#imagine being high/tipsy is like for you guys? i wouldn’t know so i can only guess

[morgana-pendragon]

every time i go to take these goddamn pills i forget how to swallow what is UP with that .

[saerins]

─── 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2k | content: fluff, slight angst, college au, best friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol/jealousy

note: for @luvjiro who gave me the suggestion !! i have a hc that he’s slightly possessive so i had fun with this >:) i hope you like it bae muwah <3

summary: just when you feel like giving up, sae pulls you back into him.

it’s new year’s and sae’s actually fucking bewildered.

no, not at oliver’s over-the-top party (with the girl to guy ratio being totally off, by the way), although it deserves a spot in sae’s hall of fame for being way too much for a college party.

what’s even more shocking than that is how bold you’ve gotten. you’re not even drunk, not even tipsy. but here you are, hands on his chest and that shit-eating grin on full display.

“you know the saying?”

sae sighs, wondering what bullshit you have ready for him this time, but he resigns anyway. such is the duty of a best friend or whatever. “what?”

“i think they say, if you want to savour the moment, you should totally kiss.”

if he can look even more unamused, he would. because who on earth says that? people wanting to get laid? he can imagine oliver saying that, for one. it’s a big surprise that you’re the one using it though.

“sounds shitty,” he retorts, looking away, though his arm stays glued around your waist, locking you in place. only because he’s seen the way some of the guys here are eyeing you. he’s protecting his best friend, that’s all.

his best friend who’s had a crush on him for as long as he can remember. it really is your fault for not having the competence to be subtle. you’d intended to send him an anonymous email confessing your feelings for him back in high school. but then it’s easy enough when you forget to use a burner email and use your personal one instead—full name and all.

and to think, you somehow became best friends with him after he rejected you back then. sae’s teal eyes shift from the view outside to you, head buried in his chest, probably pouting because he knows you like that now, familiar with all your tendencies.

how long has it been since then? five years, according to the math in his head.

now, in this position, sae wonders if this is just you being cheeky, or if it’s you still having feelings for him. he wonders what if he didn’t know you had feelings for him—would he be treating you any differently? would he just go fuck it and just agree to kiss you at midnight? or would he still be this cautious about stepping over the line?

but then again, if you hadn’t been such a klutz about your anonymous email, sae wouldn’t have spoken to you in the first place, wouldn’t have found you in that lecture hall and went if you wanted to confess anonymously, you suck at it. if it weren’t for you being classic you, the both of you wouldn’t have been friends. sae would’ve stuck to himself and probably would’ve deleted that mail anyway, thinking it was spam.

what was it that made him become friends with you? in part it was probably your shamelessness, your misplaced anger at him calling you out. since then, you’d told him that you’d make him regret rejecting you, that one day you’d get over him and he’d miss you. it was pretty funny, admittedly, looking at this girl he barely knew spouting all this nonsense.

he’d taken you up on that challenge, and somehow his guard slipped, let you in just a little, telling himself one day you’d be over it anyway.

yet now here he is, wondering why his heart is beating faster and faster.

it better not have anything to do with the fact that this is the first time you’d ever been so forward with him. sure, you’d spoken about how you felt on various occasions. sae’s always listened. but you’d never been this… transparent.

even when he tried to agitate you that one time by agreeing to play spin the bottle (which ended up with you sulking the whole night because every time sae spun it landed on some other girl and you always somehow got stuck with the other guys on his team).

until now, sae wonders why it irked him watching you kiss otoya or oliver or karasu.

“itoshi sae,” you call to him through gritted teeth, definitely still pouting when you tilt your face up to look at him. “it’s almost midnight, you gonna kiss me later or what?”

sae sighs, you’re such a brat.

before letting him say a word, you take that sigh to mean yet another rejection—after all, the way he first rejected you still burns fresh in your mind; how he looked at you with barely any empathy while muttering a nah, i don’t like you that way, probably would never.

you’re just another one of those girls who got rejected by itoshi sae. even if you are his best friend. doesn’t really give you any edge, so it seems.

so you sigh this time, pulling away. “nah, it’s fine.”

this time, sae’s confused. “huh?”

you wink at him, compartmentalising your feelings—any sadness didn’t deserve a place here during new year’s. it’s going to be a good party for you and you’d fake it till you make it.

“just joking, i’m gonna find someone else to entertain me,” you giggle, just to make sure you throw him off because somehow, sae is weirdly perceptive to your actual feelings every time.

before sae gets any time to respond, you crawl off the sofa and bound off in a random direction, trying to shake off your disappointment.

you find yourself at the balcony a few seconds later. wow, oliver’s apartment is actually fucking huge, because you realise he has several balconies and this is just the one at the top floor.

“hey, what’re you doing up here alone?”

by your side, quick as a flash, is otoya eita holding a beer bottle in his hand, offering it to you and then taking a swig after you shake your head.

“am i not allowed to be?”

he smirks. “just thought you’d be with sae after all,” he shrugs, mirroring your position, forearms resting on the railing and looking out at the scenery below. tokyo’s beautiful at night. “so what are you doing out here, princess?”

you roll your eyes at the sarcastic way he calls you that, but you chuckle all the same. otoya’s surprisingly good at being a distraction.

“fishing for a guy to kiss at midnight,” you tell him, before you pull back at the sight of him grinning. “and i don’t mean you, eita.”

his bangs cover half his face as he pulls back in faux shock, hand to his chest, “what’s wrong with me?”

you nudge his shoulder playfully, laughing along. “don’t you have like, six other girls at this party you slept with who’s looking for a kiss too or something?”

otoya sticks his tongue out, “ha ha very funny, y/n.” he takes another swig of his beer. “you’d beat them hands down, though. no contest.”

this time it’s your turn to stick your tongue out. “thanks eita, still not gonna sleep with you though.”

“damn it,” otoya plays along. “fuck, maybe when you get over sae then.”

because everyone knows you have a hopeless crush on itoshi sae.

“when will that be?” otoya asks, taunting you, closing the gap between you. but then a hand on his coat pulls him back and away from you, effectively ruining his moment.

“that’ll be never, so back off.”

you can only blink in confusion as you realise it’s sae here, telling otoya off for flirting with you. the same sae who reaches his hand out and waits for you to take it before leading you back into the house. the same sae who’s never interlinked fingers with you before who’s doing that exact thing now.

“um, what was that for?” you ask him once he lets go of your hand, situating the both of you at the corner of the house, near oliver’s room.

sae doesn’t respond, only holds an index finger to his lips and telling you to shush before he quietly, carefully, unlocks oliver’s room, peering inside to make sure the coast is clear before getting you to follow him in.

it’s only a minute left to midnight and while you’re slightly miffed about not having someone to kiss when new year’s hits, you think it’s fine anyway. sae’s always who you spent this occasion with, somehow, so maybe sticking with tradition is enough for you. even if it’s just as normal friends.

even if it’s less than what you want.

“this is nice,” you coo as he leads you out onto a private balcony—just for the two of you. you’re guessing oliver doesn’t know, but it’s better that way, having secrets that’s just kept between you and sae feels more thrilling anyway.

“better here than up there with all those other idiots.”

there’s a bitterness in sae’s voice that you can’t help but fixate on. “you haven’t answered my question earlier.”

“about what?”

“why’d you stop eita?”

“that guy? he’s kissed so many girls, who knows what type of sickness he’ll pass on to you.” nonchalantly. like he doesn’t give a shit. too bad for him, you know him too well by now to believe that.

you sigh. “be serious, sae.”

ten seconds to midnight and the both of you can hear everyone else counting down.

“i don’t know.”

eight.

seven.

“you’re so confusing, sae.”

four.

three.

“i don’t think i am.”

one.

then you get what you asked for from the very person you wanted it from. from the same person you’ve wanted since you were seventeen.

sae’s lips are soft and gentle on yours. so are his hands around your waist, although the pads of his fingertips dig into your sides, the side effect of having seen otoya so nearly get to kiss you and your perfect lips.

no, you can’t be with anyone else. sae doesn’t want to see you with anyone else. and maybe he’s a dick for not fully realising his feelings until now and for not doing anything about it, but he’ll treat you better than anyone else, he’ll make sure of it.

god, kissing you is addicting. especially with your soft murmurs against his lips and your hands around his neck.

“sae,” you breathe out when he finally pulls away, your foreheads connected. “what was this for?”

at this moment, sae recalls your email to him way back then.

[ one new email from: ynln@email.com ]

hi itoshi sae!

i’ve been watching you play soccer and you’re really cool on the field!! i get why people call you the prodigy now. but my favourite thing about you would be that even though you look scary, you’re actually kinda nice. maybe… i kind of like you. but you probably don’t even know i exist, so i’m gonna keep it that way hehe i’ll still be rooting for you though!!

all the best, xoxo <3

sae can’t stop from smiling against your lips when he recalls that confession, “maybe… i kinda like you.”

you pull back, stunned, thinking maybe your delusions have gotten the better of you. “itoshi sae, what did you say?”

he leans back against the railing, hands in his pockets, repeating himself, but slower. “i. like. you. yn.”

you break out into a grin before he even finishes his sentence, jumping onto him and wrapping yourself around his body, sae instinctively catching you and holding you up.

“so you were being jealous earlier?”

sae’s expression deadpans as he looks at you, “shut up or i’m taking that confession back.”

“like i’d ever let you do that,” you giggle, still in disbelief that after all these years, turns out that sae does have feelings for you after all.

before either of you can say any more, you hear a very exaggerated sigh from inside the bedroom. both of you whip your head around to find oliver there, arms crossed, probably judging the both of you.

“y/n, i’m happy for you and all that that blockhead finally admitted it, but you guys better not fuck on my bed.”

[dorimena]

I seriously love Bakugou and Todoroki. Especially Bakugou in his tight winter costume in S5. And I love Dom reader and femdom more than a sub. Can I pleaseee request Todoroki or Bakugou where the reader is recording them playing with a vibrator or dildo but get overstimulated because they can't cum from the cock ring because it's their punishments since they forgot their anniversary so reader also forget to stop the toys even if they beg reader to stop in the camera.if you don't mind the request

I don’t mind~ May your sin be forgiven with this prayer (˘⌣˘人) This sounds really, really sexy, so I had a blast imagining and putting this into words.

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki & todoroki shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, sex toys (dildo, vibrators, cockring), overstimulation, cam sex (recording), exhibitionism, semi-public, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; balcony sex (?), threesome, whiny Bakugou, weeping Todoroki, punishment, orgasm denial, aged-up characters, Bakugou and Todoroki are both 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; Unravel Me by Sabrina Claudio and Fuck Love by XXXTENTACION ft. Trippie Reid somehow helped me piece this together. Sorry if there are any typos! It’s not proofread.

𝕯𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊

“I-I-”

“W-we! We-”

You watch as both men struggle to speak, trying to ask for forgiveness, once again. It’s the fourth time this hour, the way Bakugou tries to open his mouth wide enough to not slur his words and Todoroki tries to correct Bakugou while keeping himself coherent.

It’s cute how the smartest guys in your life seem to fail miserably in having a decent human conversation

Well, you can’t blame them either, not with the way you keep toying around with the intensity of the vibrators taped to their dicks, cum drying on the toy enough to show anyone who looks up on the balcony that these two men, with such stature and muscles, are easily falling apart.

“Speak better, sweethearts. Can’t have you guys sounding so dumb on camera, right?”

Oh yeah, and you’re even recording them, in case anyone else would want to watch the rising proheros break.

You’re not actually going to show them to the public, but maybe to their friends. Maybe Kirishima would like to watch? Kaminari? Sero? Or maybe Iida? Midoriya?

Heck, the girls might even ask some day.

But you know what makes you curious about showing this video to their friends?

The way both Bakugou and Todoroki are presenting themselves beautifully, as if they’re pro porn stars saving the wanks rather than proheros saving the day.

It’s cute, how Bakugou’s puffing his muscular chest in the air as if they were the juiciest tits ever, which they are, and how Todoroki is somehow sensually humping the air with every buzz against his furious red tip.

Your eyes stay on the screen, making sure the lighting is entering nice enough to make it seem like they’re glowing, other than their post-orgasm glow.

How many times have they come by now?

“Babes, how many times have you cum?”

They both shake their heads.

Of course they wouldn’t know. They just take what they’re receiving. They’re making up for their mistake.

You still pout, tapping the touchable screen to even out the weird lighting as another cloud covers the sun, again.

Maybe giving their punishment out on the balcony wasn’t such a good idea.

As you look down to the floor below them, seeing the once growing puddle of cum slowly be pushed by the wind to trail off towards the side of the balcony, seeping through the small opening and probably dripping feets below is what keeps you positive, happy knowing people will eventually look up and wonder ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Well, either the drying cum gives away your dirty activities or it’s Todoroki’s wailing as an orgasm is ripped out of him forcibly.

Pity nothing comes from his tip, not since some time ago.

They both thought they deserve to cum and be satisfied?

Maybe you should’ve put the cock rings on them before making them come the first two times, but their reactions and frustration with how little some cum leaves or how their body reacts with the dry convulsions makes you giggle in pride.

Pretty babes.

“Todoroki, shut up. You’ll make the neighbors look over- oh! Oh, that’s what you want? I understand.”

And poor Todoroki is just shaking his head way too fast, enough to give him whiplash, but you just snicker as you reach over to a white box.

An unfamiliar white box.

Bakugou’s eyeing Todoroki in pity, wondering what the other will have to endure as he keeps trying to fight off his orgasm.

How he’s doing it, he has no clue. But god his dick hurts.

He’s been wanting to cum for the past 30 minutes, but with the way he resents this stupid cock ring, he’d rather not humilliate himself in front of you and figure out how else to please you.

Maybe he should offer to eat you out?

The way his body is super tense and his breathing is shallow doesn’t escape your attention, less how much pity is showing itself on his face as he shakes his face in disapproval with Todoroki’s recent dry orgasm.

Good thing you invested in this double dildo.

Neither of the boys take notice with how you’re lubing the dildo that looks like it’d belong to you. It’s quite pretty, long and thick enough to hopefully please your boys.

Even if they won’t get to cum.

“Bakugou,” you start, smiling as you watch his once bright eyes suddenly darken as shock takes over his face.

What the

“Fuck is that?!” He yells out, accidentally letting his body relax as it finally submits to the vibrations of the toy, his yell turning into an unbroken series of high-pitched moans, his hips losing control with how incredibly close he is.

“A double dildo, baby. Look! It even looks like if I’d be fucking you two, isn’t that fun?”

Bakugou shakes his head, gasping ‘no, no, no!’ before he falls forward, balancing himself with his palms as he sobs through his first dry orgasm. Maybe he shouldn’t have held back for so long, not with the way his body unforgivably goes through waves of pure unsatisfied pleasure.

Todoroki, meanwhile, is nodding eagerly, eyes welling up in happy tears at the idea of getting fucked, in getting more pleasure and love from you, even if this is meant to be punishment.

But, why are you exposing them like this?

They forgot your anniversary.

Your 3rd anniversary as a throuple, the anniversary Bakugou swallowed his bite and pride to confess to you how much he loves you and how he’s falling in love with Todoroki too; the anniversary Todoroki finally let loose the dam of emotions and even if a bit tipsy, agreed he too was falling in love with both you and Bakugou, how he hasn’t ever felt so understood, so loved, so safe.

So, yeah, how dare they forget?

But if they wanna be dumb, you’ll help with that.

It’s been a while now since you’ve turned off the vibrators and since you’ve prepped them well enough to take the dildo together.

The scene in front of you is gorgeous, ethereal, sublime.

You just want to ruin them like this everyday.

“Aagh! Ugh! F-fuck! Sl-slow do-own! Haaah~”

“S-sorry! ‘m s-sorry! Ca-an’t! Nnah…”

It’s cute watching them argue a bit, how Bakugou can’t take how fast Todoroki is fucking himself back on the dildo while also pushing the toy deeper into Bakugou. And Todoroki doesn’t actually look sorry, not with how his eyes keep crossing everytime he manages to get the toy to hit his sweet spot.

He’s trying so hard to win your forgiveness by putting up with this, but it’s kind of sad knowing you’re not going to stop anytime soon, or take off the cockrings.

Not like they know anyways.

Bakugou might’ve known, might’ve noticed, with the way he’s trying to keep this dragging as slow and steady as possible; with the way his precum is struggling to escape the confines the cockring gives; with how much his red and miserably hard dick keeps jumping with every push Todoroki’s ass gives him.

You’re lounging about, resisting the urge to get off to the scene in front of you, or else they’d start begging to let them please you as apologies, and knowing how sentimental this day is for you, you know you’d immediately give in.

But this is punishment for their forgetfulness.

So, as the cherry on top of this cum covered balcony sex sundae, you’ll also forget about them.

It lasted for a while as you got bored with how neither of them seemed to be reaching another orgasm.

If only the dildo had a vibration option.

But the vibrators still taped on their dicks will have to do.

So you turn them back on, and oh would you look at that! The cockrings could also vibrate.

The pleasure-filled scream coming from Bakugou and the cute, drawled whine of your name Todoroki lets out makes you feel grateful for thinking ahead, kinda.

Now both boys are writhing against each other, different ways to let out their desperations and dying need to properly cum manifesting in either rapid fucking on the dildo to simply submitting to the minstruations of the other party.

To put it in better, shorter words, Bakugou took the reigns in fucking the dildo in such rigor and strength that made Todoroki lay on his chest, ass still up as he simply took everything Bakugou kept pushing into him, mouth opened as hiccups and drool escaped. His eyes settle onto your form, watering as more tears gather on his waterline before dropping to the ground his face is resting on.

It feels so good, so, so good he can’t believe this is punishment. Even if he hasn’t been able to properly cum for some time now, he still thinks you’re being nice with them. Must be because of the anniversary that you sadly reminded them of.

He’s trying his best to push back on the dildo, wanting Bakugou to feel just as good as him, just as fucked as him.

And everytime the toy hits him just right, Todoroki sees stars, feels an all too familiar tingly sensation as he tries to grab his dick, but when you turn the vibrator up even more, his hands just lay on the ground, nails raking as he tries gripping on something, anything.

He really, really, really needs to cum. He wants to cum.

Keep being a good boy for you.

But all he gets is a choked sob of your name leaving his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed upwards as the strongest orgasm takes over his body, he’d be convinced there’s an earthquake happening. Small whimpers of how much it hurts leaves his mouth soon after, his dick twitching pathetically as it slowly becomes purple, barely a dribble of cum managing to escape.

Bakugou is in no good shape either, loudly moaning and crying out how good you’re fucking him, how he’s taking your cock, how good he is being, to please, please, please let him cum.

But actually cum, to let him contaminate the floor even more with his sperm, to let him taste it even, if that would make you happy and forgive him.

He’s close to wailing by now, hips going impossible faster as he forgets all about poor Todoroki riding out his high.

And the moment you turn on the vibrators intensity, he gets dizzy, breath getting stuck in his throat as his brain tries to process the spiraling of his warm, hot orgasm growing too much, burning him everywhere as if it were lava.

Small sparks sound on his fingertips as he howls and gets hurled into his own orgasm, back arching and head thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks, not with how his mind only cares about how good yet bad this orgasm feels.

Not even how loud his high-pitched wails of how good it feels, how much it hurts, is enough to alarm anyone near the radius of this defiling act.

Both boys are left shuddering or twitching through their intense dry orgasm, the way their bodies react with the built up cum in their dicks, with how hot and how wreckless they’re becoming with their quirks.

Still connected with the dildo, neither move, unless it’s some pathetic hump to help drag the orgasm a little more before they try to even remember what letter your name begins with.

Bakugou’s whimpering.

Todoroki’s crying silently.

Both blinking the haze out of their vision as they remember about the buzzing, about the relentless feeling on their really, really sensitive dicks.

Bakugou’s crying now.

Todoroki’s just busy mewling like a slut by now.

And when they both turn to look at you, they gasp so loudly one of them begins choking on air and the other with saliva.

Where’d you go?!

Come back!

And ‘come back’ and ‘forgive us’ is the only thing anyone could possibly hear for the next few hours as they fuck the dildo and let the vibrators do their job in milking more and more orgasms out of them.

If only they’d look closer, they would’ve seen a post-it note stuck on the tripod of the camera telling them you went to the kitchen and that they better come crawling.

Oh well, you’re enjoying the view anyways as you sip on some liquor of your liking, turning off the vibrators as you slowly walk to the balcony.

The sun’s beginning to set. You’re not that cruel in letting them fuck each other in the cold.

The bedroom is much better, and comfier.

Perfect for you to finish the job and let them finally, finally, get their deserving orgasms.

You’ll be sure to milk out

Every.

Single.

Drop.

[hornime]

for your viewing pleasure | suna rintarou x gn!reader

camming was addicting in a way; he could be as lazy as he wanted with it and people would still lose their minds over the tiny crumbs he left them. it was suna’s sadistic little game, and he loved it.

warnings: 18+, college au, camboy!suna, male masturbation, mentions of drinking

w/c: 1k (this was not supposed to get this long oops)

a/n: no because suna is literally the perfect candidate for camming. he’s so fucking effortlessly sexy that it pisses me off but i KNOW i’d be pressing that follow button in half a heartbeat.

for your viewing pleasure: part one ↓ | part two

“fuck.” suna let out a guttural groan, his right hand moving rapidly along his shaft as he braced himself on his other forearm, naked body splayed out on his white bedsheets. “my hand feels good ‘round my cock but i’d rather it was you,” he grunted out to no one in particular. he took a shaky breath. “hngh, you know, if you were good, i’d cum inside. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? stupid whore, all desperate for some cum.” a few thrusts later, his stomach clenched and balls tightened, cum spilling heavily from his blushing tip. “oh god,” he moaned, “feels s’good.”

as he recollected his thoughts from his heart-pounding release, he reached forward and clicked the red button on his phone, stopping the recording. after playing the video through to ensure that nothing above his neck was in the frame, he posted it on twitter with a suggestive caption and headed to the shower. this was suna’s almost-nightly routine: film something filthy for his almost forty thousand followers and bask in the strange satisfaction of thirsty comments praising his cock and begging to get fucked. camming was addicting in a way; he could be as lazy as he wanted with it and people would still lose their minds over the tiny crumbs he left them. it was suna’s sadistic little game, and he loved it.

looking back, it’s almost inevitable that he started filming his solo sessions for attention, and eventually for some side cash. 

suna was always good with cameras—throughout high school, the miyas consistently kept him on his toes; he was constantly anticipating an opportunity for the perfect shot of osamu getting a set straight to the face or of atsumu getting tackled in retaliation for said set. just like on the court, he was observant: he always knew the best angles, the best lighting, and the best positioning, all coming together to form the perfect picture. 

and as for the porn part, well, he was a teenage boy once. he’d watched his fair share of erotic videos on all kinds of sites before stumbling upon the vast expanse of homemade clips on twitter, instantly understanding the appeal. a few months after he turned eighteen, he made his own account, figuring that he might as well use his cock for something other than his own pleasure. his peers always gave him hell for his apathy, especially in bed, but on the internet, strangers were in awe of just how little he cared—and how much hotter that made him.

by the time he reached ten thousand followers, he’d opened a venmo, making a few hundred dollars within a week. this isn’t too bad, he thought to himself. i could definitely get used to this. and he did, establishing a pretty solid side gig as a college student that could always use some extra cash.

speaking of college, suna wasn’t really one for parties. in fact, him attending the same party you were, being in the same room you were, and overhearing the only possible conversation that could possibly interest him, were all by complete coincidence. but damn, if he isn’t glad the fates aligned in his favor.

suna, in typical wallflower fashion, was standing against the wall, solo cup in hand, not doing much other than observing those around him and occasionally indulging in the flirtatious glances of a few other partygoers. thinking back, he wasn’t sure how he got so close to you and your friends, or why he was so keen on hearing what you had to say to them. all he knew then was that you were a familiar face from one of his classes, and you were irritatingly attractive. he could probably point to at least five different posts on his account in which he was thinking of specifically you, a person of definite sexual interest, while masturbating.

you’d been drinking, undoubtedly to the point of being tipsy, because there was no way you would’ve been talking about porn, especially at that loud of a volume in the middle of a party, sober. the few beers you’d downed had comfortably warmed your body, making your brain a little fuzzy and your actions a little more reckless. so when your friend had brought up the subject of pornography, you were quick to jump in.

“ya see,” you slurred, “for all the good stuff, ya needa be on twitter. your first mistake s’gunna be going on pornhub or xvideos or some dumb shit like that. you gotta be looking for the good kush on twitter. the homemade stuff. s’authentic and real.”

suna raised a brow at that, taking a short sip of his drink, curious as to what you were going to say next. 

“and once you’re on twitter, you gotta find some good,” you waved your hand vaguely, “content creators. ya know? some accounts you can rely on for all your needs.”

your friend asked you a question that suna couldn’t make out through the reverberating bass of the music.

“me personally? all right. this is my biggest secret, like, this guy is the holy grail of twitter porn. the user is...” 

suna nearly spit out the alcohol settling on his tongue as the username of his secret account escaped your lips. holy shit, he thought to himself, trying to control his quickening pulse. the idea of you using him to get off was way more arousing then he thought it could be. did you ever time your orgasm so that you both were cumming at the same time? did you stare with envy at his hand, wishing it was you? with nothing but your imagination and your fingers, did you pretend it was him looming over you, making you feel good?

his cock stirred impatiently in his pants. shit, i’ve got to chill the fuck out.

“i’m telling you, this man has the prettiest cock i’ve ever seen. like, you guys know, i hate sucking dick. ‘s the worse thing ever ‘cus their balls always smell like old cheese. but for this guy,” you rolled your eyes back dramatically, “i’d get on my hands and knees immediately. t‘so long and thick and curved and pink,” you gushed. “and his voice is so hot. i’d let him do anything to me.”

suna smirked from behind his cup. he likes you. maybe if you play your cards right, he’ll let you suck the pretty cock that you adore so much. and maybe if he plays his cards right, you’ll let him record it so he can watch it whenever he wants, and show off to his followers what a cockhungry slut you are.

making solo porn was getting boring, anyway.

>> part two 

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png​, @bakugouswh0r3​, @yatoatyourservice​, @ayocee​, @marvel-ing-at-it-all​, @astrolcve 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3 

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter. 

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow. 

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?” 

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.” 

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?” 

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes. 

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether. 

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway. 

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week. 

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday. 

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----

[freddie-weaselbee]

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration. 

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge 

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic. 

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him. 

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss. 

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom. 

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully. 

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before. 

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him. 

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave. 

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him. 

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds. 

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there. 

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him. 

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did. 

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake. 

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more. 

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all. 

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much. 

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say. 

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion. 

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time. 

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken. 

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged. 

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side. 

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long. 

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall. 

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away. 

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

 A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked. 

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure. 

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter. 

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing. 

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong. 

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners. 

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk. 

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression. 

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation. 

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath. 

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say. 

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips. 

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night. 

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on. 

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style. 

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 6

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ;

Masterlist

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Part 6 -

49 days of camp left

“The thing I don’t understand is,” said JJ, taking a sip of his coffee several days later at breakfast, “How is everyone so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, everyone except for us,” said Caroline.

“And Topper,” mumbled Sarah.

Her three friends all looked up at her, eyes wide.

“What?” she looked back at them, eyes equally as wide in confusion, “Why’d you think he’s been moping around camp, face looking like a slapped ass?”

“Sarah, why didn’t you say anything at the campfire?” Caroline asked angrily.

“Um, I did,” defended Sarah.

“Um, no you didn’t,” clapped back JJ, getting visibly annoyed.

John B nodded and mumbled quietly, “They’re right, you didn’t…”

“Not now, John B,” snapped Sarah at him, turning towards her other friends, “What do you mean I didn’t?”

“When we asked you about what Topper said, you literally said ‘oh nothing of importance, he doesn’t care about the bitch either’ and then you went back to glaring at those girls goggling at John B,” said JJ.

Sarah scoffed, “I was only glaring because they refuse to listen to me and only do whatever he says,”

“That’s beside the point, Sarah,” sighed JJ, “If you weren’t too busy doing that, perhaps you’d have mentioned that Topper doesn’t buy the whole boyfriend story either, which could mean that we’ve got an ally amongst all of these lunatics!”

“Sorry,” Sarah shrugged, “I guess I just got distracted,”

Caroline shook her head sighing, “Anyway, it’s almost 9,” she looked at JJ, “What’s on our schedule for today?”

“Funny you ask,” JJ responded, “We’ve actually got swimming until 11, which means the kids have swimming until 11 and we can just chill by the lake,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “If you know what I mean,”

In the days since camp began, the whole Madison thing had died down and since there was no new occurrences and, well, no new leads, Caroline and JJ decided to put their primary focus on their teens. They’d made a small rule that every time their schedule indicated that they’ve got an activity where their physical participation is not directly required, Caroline would sneak some whiskey in their thermoses and they would quietly drink it in secret, just to spice up their day.

So far Caroline was doing a pretty good job at hiding her crush on JJ, which was somehow becoming bigger by the day. For some reason everything that JJ did was attractive. Whether it was him running, or teaching the boys how to tie a noose, or eating (pretty messily) his food, or not to mention swimming practice when he was required to get naked – Caroline could just stare at him all day. She was somewhat happy about their newfound tradition of taking over some of their daily tasks while tipsy because the alcohol was somewhat helping her seem more confident and less shy.

Caroline tied her long brunette hair in a Dutch braid and smeared the tiniest bit of mascara on her lashes, just to seem effortlessly pretty, of course. She adjusted the straps of her swimsuit and grabbed her and JJ’s prefilled thermoses before heading out to meet the boy and their group in front of the camper’s cabin.

“There she is,” said JJ, unable to hide his excitement, “We ready to go?”

The campers all agreed and they made their way down towards the lake, where Caroline and JJ sat at one of the benches while their campers hurried into the water.

“Now, now, Teens 2,” said JJ after them, not too bothered about sounding strict, “Usually our timetable says swimming, but since we’re all grown ups here, we can all do whatever we want, as long as we don’t go too far away from me and Carrie’s eyesight, alright?”

Everyone agreed and JJ sat back down next to Caroline, who handed him his thermos.

“I’ve gotta give it to you, Maybank,” she said, taking a sip of the spicy liquor in her flask, “You’ve got a way with kids,”

JJ smiled down at her, taking a sip too, “I mean they’re hardly kids, C,” he said, “Besides, I try my best, I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you,”

That blush that Caroline was all too familiar with crept back onto her cheeks, “In front of me?” she repeated, surprised.

“Yeah,” nodded JJ as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t see any other pretty girls around here,”

Caroline looked in the opposite direction, too shy to look at JJ, as she took another rather large sip of her drink, “JJ…”

“What? Can’t a guy give you a compliment?” he smirked, “Hey, come on now, we’re in this together, besides… your mom did say -”

Just as Caroline was about to turn towards JJ with a panicked look in her eyes, fearing what exactly her mom had said to him, two of their campers began screaming their names, diverting both of their attentions.

“Carrie! JJ! You’ve gotta come see this!”

JJ shot up, helping Caroline up as well, as they ran towards the dock. Bobby and Eli, the two campers who had called out for them, were hastily swimming back to shore.

“What is it?” Caroline asked, worry filling up her nerves.

“We found something dope!” said Eli, reaching the dock, “But we can’t reach it without you guys’ help,”

“What did you find?” asked JJ.

“That,” Bobby pointed in the direction they’d just swam from. There, a good distance away, in the middle of the body of water, stood an abandoned-looking stilt house.

“The old lake house,” JJ and Caroline said in unison.

“That’s just an old building, it’s been there forever and there’s literally nothing in it,” explained JJ, his nerves calming down after the initial jump scare, “Trust me, we’ve looked,”

Bobby rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on, you can’t be serious,” he moaned, “That place looks wicked!”

“Yeah, if you watch a lot of horror movies,” said Caroline, “JJ’s right, there’s nothing in there. I’ve been numerous times, it looks way cooler in your imagination, believe me. Reality is underwhelming,”

Eli crossed his arms, “If it’s so underwhelming why don’t you wanna take us there?”

JJ sighed, “Eli, taking you there would require taking the boats, which we’re not allowed to do unless it’s on our schedule, which it’s not, and if we take you there, we’d have to take everyone there, and -”

“Take everyone where?” came Jennie, another one of their campers’, voice suddenly.

“Yeah, JJ,” more campers gathered around the dock, “Where are you taking us?”

JJ and Caroline sighed in defeat as they shared a defeated look, making Bobby and Eli high five in victory.

“Change of plans, kids,” said JJ finally, giving in, “Swimming’s cancelled, looks like we’re going to be learning how to row today,”

_________________________________________________________

“You sure about this?” JJ grabbed Caroline’s hand as she was stepping off the boat and onto the back deck of the abandoned stilt house.

Caroline turned towards him and gave him a reassuring smile, “It’ll be just like the old days,” she said, her tone sounding promising.

JJ followed her onto the deck and they helped their campers tie their little boats on the deck’s cleats.

“Looks like y’all were really paying attention during our noose tying workshop,” JJ said proudly as he double-checked that all the boats were securely tied, “I’m gonna make sure to bring that up to Miss P and we might have a shot of winning at the Will-all-hail banquet,”

Caroline snorted at the name, “So tacky…”

“Come on guys, follow me and Carrie and watch your steps,” JJ signaled, catching everyone’s attention, “This place is crazy old so be careful! One wrong step and you may end up in the water,”

Carefully, the group entered the old creaky building. It was all too familiar to Caroline and JJ, the smell of mold and condensation hitting their nostrils as the single dusty dark room they had secretly lurked into numerous times as kids presented itself in front of them. Part of Caroline had always secretly wished for the old lake house to serve as a passageway to a parallel universe, or to hold some great big secret, or even to be inhabited by the not-so-friendly ghost of whoever built it back in the day, however unsurprisingly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet again. The room was empty, other than the numerous spider webs which decorated almost every corner and crease.

“There you go,” Caroline said, turning to leave, “Nothing to see here,”

JJ agreed, “As always, underwhelming and empty,”

“If it’s so empty,” spoke one of the campers, “then what’s that?” the teenager pointed in the direction of where there was once a door leading towards the front deck.

Everyone’s heads turned in that direction and sure enough, on one of the old nails sticking out of the door frame, was hung a piece of red fabric, barely noticeable from the inside, let alone from where the shore to camp was.

“Stand back,” said Caroline, slowly stepping forward towards the fabric. She peeped her head through the door hole cautiously, checking if there was anyone on the front deck, holding her breath as she did so. She breathed out in relief once she saw that the coast was clear and analyzed the fabric, “Hey, J, can you come over?”

JJ, half-impressed, half-paralyzed, snapped back to reality as he walked over to the girl who now looked so brave in his eyes, mentally slapping himself for not being a man and volunteering to go instead of her.

“Why does this look familiar?” Caroline said once JJ came over to piece of clothing. It turned out to be a dress.

JJ shrugged, pulling at the material and taking a sniff, “Whoever’s it is was here recently,” he said, “Smell of perfume is fresh,” he sniffed again, “And super strong,” he scrunched his nose, a look of disgust on his face.

Caroline took a sniff too, “Yeah, that smell is so familiar, but where from…” she sniffed again, closing her eyes in an attempt to figure out where she recognized the scent from.

“Probably one of the girls from your cabin,” concluded JJ, “I’d put my money on Jenna Kinley, she seems like the type to sneak around,”

Caroline smirked, “Sounds about right, she was probably up here sneaking around with Barry, I hear her talking about him all the time,” she unhooked the dress from the nail, “I’ll bring it back to her, she must think she’s lost it,”

JJ nodded and they led the campers out of the stilt house and onto shore again. Caroline tucked the dress in her bag along with her thermos and waited until after everyone’s daily activities were over to meet Sarah by the showers and tell her about her and JJ’s scandalous little discovery. Ever since they’d arrived at Camp Willowdale and had their phones taken away for the rest of the summer, the only source of news and gossip was whatever was happening around camp, and since it wasn’t all that much, every little bit of spice counted.

“So how was archery?” she asked Sarah as she folded her underwear and turned the water in her shower on.

Sarah followed in after her, not bothering on going into a neighboring shower stall. They had developed his habit of showering together about three days into camp, with Sarah seemingly having separation anxiety and insisting that “they’ve both got the same bits and pieces” and that how “any guy would be lucky to be in the position Caroline is in,”.

The blonde groaned as she squeezed some of her purple shampoo in her palm, foaming it up and working it into her hair, “Horrible,” she said, “How do you see me with a bow and arrows?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” teased Caroline, mirroring Sarah’s actions and washing her hair.

“Whatever, C,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “How was your swim date with your boyfriend?”

“Okay, first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” said Caroline earning a smug look from Sarah, “And second, you’ll never guess what we found,”

“Oooh, is it the incessant lust you have for each other?” teased Sarah.

“No, it’s better,” said Caroline, ignoring her friend’s words, “We went to the old lake house and we may or may not have found what we believe to be Jenna’s dress just hanging there,” Sarah’s eyes widened at her words, “Yeah, we assume she’s sneaking around with Barry, how fucking scandalous is that?”

“Shut up!” gasped Sarah.

Caroline nodded excitedly, “Right? She’s been yapping about him nonstop and we just put two and two together,”

“Who’d have thought… little miss perfect and Barry,” scoffed Sarah, “D’you have the dress? It’ll be so embarrassing once you give it back to her, I can picture her face already,”

“You bet I do, it’s in my bag,” said Caroline, “Must’ve done the deed recently, it still reeks of her,” she scrunched her nose at the thought of the horrible smell.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “What’re you pulling that face for? Does she smell that bad?”

Caroline shook her head, “It’s her perfume,” she explained, “Smells like what I imagine Miss P’s underwear drawer smelling like,”

Sarah scoffed, “Now you’ve got me intrigued,” she quickly rinsed her hair and body off, hurrying for her towel, “Where’d you say this dress was?”

Caroline nodded her head in the direction of her bag, “Somewhere in my bag,” she said, “But I’m being serious – you’ve been warned,”

As she continued rinsing her hair, Sarah dove her hand into Caroline’s bag, searching for the dress in question. When she finally felt it in her hand, she pulled the piece of clothing out pressing it against her nose to take a sniff. Her eyes widened in horror as realization consumed her.

“Carrie…” she mumbled not loud enough for her friend to look up, “Carrie, this isn’t Jenna’s dress,” she spoke louder.

This time, Caroline looked up at Sarah with a look of confusion in her eyes.

“The perfume you’re talking about,” said Sarah, “It’s Guerlain Shalimar, I’d recognize it anywhere,”

“Your point being…?”

“This perfume doesn’t belong to Jenna,” Sarah turned to look at Caroline, her eyes still wide in horror, “It’s Madison’s,”

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A/N: chapter 6 is upppp!! I hope you like it!! let me know what you think and if you want to be added in the tag list for future chapters, tell me!! xxx

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04

Part 7 here

[arvinsescape]

The Princess and The Guard.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, I had my first vaccination and it made me really sleepy so i couldn’t bring myself to write! There is a time skip in this to move their relationship along but I hope you enjoy! The next chapter will have much more angst as things are starting to happen! I would love to hear your feedback and i will accept construstive criticism. 

This series is not historically accurate and is not intended to be so please bare that in mind when you are reading, I am no real expert on how royalty works (even if I am from England).

This series will contain misogynistic language and views, violence, death and nsfw content. I will always put the relevant warnings into each chapter!

Teaser, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three, Chapter four

Warnings: Language, Smut (Minors do not engage), thigh riding, talking of first orgasms. I think that’s it for this chapter!

W/C: 4K.

Chapter Three:

You sat around the dinner table as you were forced to converse with the Duke. This was the first time you’d been forced to spend time with Oliver for longer than a few moments, you quickly grew bored of the conversation and his constant moaning about the poorer people, along with his bragging about his achievements. Your mind couldn’t help but go back to the last few months with Tom and how things had changed between the two of you, if your parents knew they’d probably disown you.

Harrison’s wedding was a beautiful affair, everyone was enjoying seeing the happy couple, it was a rare occasion where the staff where able to celebrate in their own quarters and given the night off. Your parents watched in pride and delight as Harrison and Ellie danced around the ballroom, completely captivated by one an another. It was almost like no one else was in the room, your eyes consistently found Tom’s. He was one of the only members of staff able to celebrate with the rest of you as he was Harrison’s personal guard.

It was getting late as Harrison and Ellie retired to bed, most of the nobles had left by now, your parents having gone to bed a while ago. As you said your goodnight’s to the remaining people, you headed into the corridors and towards your bedroom, you were quite tipsy by this point, Harrison having encouraged you to ‘live a little.’ Your thoughts had drifted to Tom and how he walked you back to your room a lot these days, as if he was thinking the same, you heard his voice, a smile making its way onto your lips.

“Princess. Allow me to walk you to your room.”

“I would love that Tom.” You smiled as you looked back at him, watching as he fell into step next to you.

“Tonight was a beautiful night. You looked beautiful.”

“Thank you Tom.”

You walked in a comfortable silence until you reached your bedroom door, as it always seemed to be the case when you and Tom did this, no other staff where in the corridors and you couldn’t be more thankful for that fact.

“I’m glad Harrison found his happiness, I truly hope you do to.” He smiled as he spoke to you and you bit your lip as you looked at him.

“I hope you do too Tom.” The alcohol in your system was making you slightly more brave. “Nightcap?” You asked as you pointed to your bedroom, gesturing for him to come in.

“Princess-“ Tom went to say, apprehension clear in his tone.

“No one will know, I’m in charge of getting myself ready for bed tonight.” You almost pleaded with him, you wanted to spend more time with him, he was becoming addictive. He nodded slightly as you both made your way into your bedroom, you made sure to shut your bedroom door, knowing that if anyone was to disturb you now they’d have to knock.

You poured two glasses of wine, handing one to Tom as you both took seats at your small table, one your mother insisted you needed in a bedroom. He looked slightly uncomfortable, this would be the first time he’d ever been into your bedroom.

“Tom, relax.” You laughed. “No one is going to know.”

“Sorry, I just, I never expected to be here.” He said and you smiled.

“Most men would jump at the chance to be here.” You teased and now it was his turn to smile.

“I enjoy spending time with you princess, but this is improper, as much as I like being here and with you, it’s improper.” The nickname was making your heart beat faster, he really was the only person who could call you that and it didn’t make you want to roll your eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked and he nodded, you felt bolder than usual, moving closer to him. “Do you want to kiss me Tom?” You asked and Tom visibly gulped.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He spoke, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as you looked at each other.

“That’s not a yes or a no.” You whispered, faces incredibly close. You heart was hammering in your chest, although this would not be your first kiss, it would be the first kiss that meant anything to you. The tension between the two of you was thick, Tom’s eyes had darkened slightly as his eyes flicked from yours to your lips.

“Yes.” He answered confidently and you smiled.

“Then please, Tom, kiss me.” You whispered back and that was all it took before you felt his lips on yours. It felt too good to be true. His lips were softer than you’d imagined. You felt as his hand placed itself on your cheek, it was soft, caring, almost as if he was frightened of hurting you. The kiss was innocent and sweet until your thoughts drifted elsewhere and you found yourself pushing your lips harder against his, deepening the kiss.

Tom didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, just as firm, his hand slipping into your hair as he carefully removed your grip, your hair falling around you. You couldn’t help yourself as you moved to straddle his thigh and your mind became clouded with lustful thoughts. You’d never done anything above a kiss with another man but you were not naive, you’d been educated on the sexual side to relationships.

His hand had a firm grip on your waist as your hands slid into his hair. You pulled back slightly for some air and Tom took the opportunity to plant kisses down your neck, you moved your head to the side, sighing in pleasure, it felt good, a kind of pleasure you’d never experienced before. You felt a need grow between your legs, a need that felt as though it needed to be shifted, this was new and exciting to you. You ground your hips against Tom’s thigh, the pleasure felt like nothing you’d ever felt before, you moaned.

Tom hummed against your neck, before pulling away. “Y/n.” He said and you reconnected your lips, cutting him off. You moved your hand down his chest, hand falling into his crotch as you felt his hardened length and he moaned. “Y/N/N.” He said again before pulling back completely, you looked at him with furrowed brows, halting your movements.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” He asked seriously and you shook your head. “I’m sorry, I need to go, I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He said as he moved you off him.

“But Tom, I started it. Do you not want to?” You asked, embarrassment settling in your chest.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. Fuck, I want nothing more than to have you fall apart on me but you’ve been drinking.” He said as he cupped your cheek in his hand, he smoothed his thumb across your cheek before dipping his head down and capturing your lips in his, the kiss sweet and soft. “Goodnight Princess.”

You’d had countless dreams about that night, ones had you going further. You’d wanted to do it again, the pleasure you’d felt was like nothing you had before and it intrigued you. You’d asked Annie about it, her cheeks growing red as she answered your burning question of what happens after.

“It’s what happens before you orgasm, your highness.” She said, cheeks redder than a tomato.

“Does it feel good?” You asked her and she nodded.

“Forgive me, Princess, but why do you ask?” This time it was your turn to feel embarrassed.

“It doesn’t matter, I was just curious is all. Some of the women were talking about it.” You lied, you were well aware of what an orgasm was and how sex worked but you were never told how truly pleasurable it felt and how it ignited excitement and passion in you.

“I’ve found you have to do it with the right person for it to feel the best it can.” She added as she brushed through your hair.

“You’ve done it more than once?” You asked and she nodded.

“I had feelings for a guy I used to meet in the bar before well.” She cut herself off, you knew she was talking about Tuwaine, she’d never admit it but you weren’t blind. “I found it always felt better with him.” She added.

“Did you ever enter a relationship with him?” You asked.

“No, he wasn’t the relationship sort of man.” She answered.

You’d found yourself wanting to do it again, it had you seeking out the brown haired guard, trying to find him alone. Tom made you feel things no one ever had before and it wasn’t just aroused, he made you laugh and smile, made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world to him just by looking at you. You’d found yourself in the library with him two weeks later.

Tom’s lips were on yours, you’re not sure how you got into this position, pressed up against a bookshelf as Tom kissed you like his life depended on it. You’d bumped into each other on another one of your late night ventures, you practically jumped at one an another, the tension between you both was thick.

“You look amazing.” Tom said and you almost accused him of being a liar, the silk of your nightgown being no where near as flattering as some of the gowns you wore but you were too wrapped up in his lips trailing down your neck.

“Tom.” You breathed and he hummed. “I want to-“ you cut yourself off suddenly feeling embarrassed, he pulled back to look at you, hand cupping your neck.

“What? What do you want?” He asked and the look he gave you made you feel safe, like he wouldn’t judge you for anything you were going to say, you suddenly felt a surge of confidence under his stare, he really did make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

“The other night when we- It felt good.” You said and he smiled. “I want to do it again.” You added. “Please Tom.” You almost begged and he nodded.

“Not here.” He spoke and you nodded, suddenly remembering where you were, anyone could catch the two of you. He took your hand in his and laced them together, carefully, and quietly manoeuvring you both through the halls and towards your bedroom. Once you were both sure no one was watching you both you entered your bedroom.

“Are you sure you want to do this? That you want it to be me?” He asked and there was a vulnerability to his question that you didn’t like, sure you weren’t supposed to be doing this but it didn’t feel wrong, it felt so right in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Tom, I’m sure.” You reassured him as you cupped his cheek and kissed his lips.

“You’re so perfect.” He said as he smoothed out your hair. “If you’re sure?” He asked and you grasped his hand, moving him to sit on the chair he had two weeks ago, a sense of déjà vu hitting you. You moved to straddle his thigh again, his hands instantly finding your waist as he softly gripped them. A sudden feeling of vulnerability settled in your chest, you knew he’d done this before, what if you weren’t as good?

“Have you done this before?” You asked and he furrowed his brows as he moved a hand to smooth out your hair.

“Yes, I’ve had sex before, but never with a woman like you.” He said and the sincerity in his eyes had you feeling more secure instantly. “Don’t think about them Princess, I’m not. Now let me make you feel good.” He grinned and you reconnected your lips, the kiss growing deeper quickly.

He licked your bottom lip and asked for entrance which you happily granted, your tongues entwining together as Tom took control of the kiss, his hand slipping to cup your neck as yours found his hair. You felt your need for him grow as you felt yourself dampen at your core. You ground your hips against his thigh and sighed in pleasure.

“Feel good?” Tom asked as he placed a string of kisses down your neck and you hummed in response. His hand moved under your silk nightdress as you continued to grind into his thigh, his fingers leaving a hot trail in their wake. He moved to your underwear and guided you to move it to the side, your core making contact with his clothed thigh, you moaned quietly, this felt so much better.

Tom moved his hands to your waist as he started to guide your movements and you gasped at the pleasure, this felt better than anything you’d ever done before. Your forehead rested against his as he watched your movements, seemingly entranced by you. You hand fisted his hair as you moved against his thigh, small moans escaping your lips. Tom’s eyes connected with yours and they’d noticeably darkened.

“You look so hot like this.” He spoke and the words went straight down south, making you wetter than before, you were sure the evidence would be on his thigh, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You felt a knot forming in your stomach as Tom guided your movements, taking full control as he moved you towards your high. You were sure this couldn’t feel any better and Tom proved you wrong as he tensed his thigh and you moaned louder than before, Tom’s hand shooting up to cover your mouth.

“Fuck Princess, you sound so hot but we can’t risk anyone hearing, you need to be quiet.” He spoke and the tone was something new, you’d never experienced this stern tone from Tom and it only served to turn you on more. “I can feel how wet you are through this material, so wet for me. Gonna make you come all over my thigh.” He spoke again and you moaned against his hand.

The knot in your stomach was foreign but it felt good, it had you wanting to move yourself against him faster.

“Tom, I’m. I don’t.” You stuttered over your words, they were muffled by his hand. “I need more.” You settled on, you were unfamiliar with what you needed to do but you were becoming consumed by the pleasure you were feeling, everything felt good.

“You close baby?” He asked and you just looked at him innocently, unsure of exactly what that meant and he groaned as he took in your expression. “Fuck, you are.” He said as he tensed and relaxed his thigh in a rhythm that had you almost seeing stars. The coil in your stomach felt ready to snap, you were convinced that it couldn’t wind any tighter. Tom must have sensed this as he pulled back to cup your face with one hand, looking you straight in the eyes as he spoke.

“I’ve got you Princess, you’re safe. It’s okay, come for me. You’re safe with me.” He spoke again and you threw your head back as you moaned louder, his hand covering your mouth again. The coil snapping as pleasure consumed everything. Tom continued to move you against him and you became more aware of how loudly your heart was beating as your vision blurred slightly, it felt amazing.

Slowly your vision returned to normal as did your senses, you looked and saw Tom already looking at you, you smiled lazily at him, a sudden sense of tiredness taking over. His hand cupping your cheek as his thumb smoothed over it. You were on cloud nine and you were so sure nothing could ruin this moment for you.

“Thank you.” You spoke and Tom smiled.

“Anything for you Princess.”

You’d done it a few more times over the past few months, you even took it a step further and brought each other to orgasm as you ground your crotches together. Watching Tom fall apart became something you found intoxicating, everything about him looked hot when he did it. You hadn’t gone any further than you learned was called dry humping but you felt like you were ready for more, ready for him to touch you with no clothing there.

“Y/N?” Your mother broke you from your trance. You looked at the rest of the table and found everyone looking at you expectantly.

“I apologise, I was distracted for a moment.” You said and your mother shook her head in annoyance as Harrison bit back a smile, you remember the day he found out.

“Y/N, I know.” Harrison spoke vaguely as he entered your room, you furrowed your brows as you looked at him.

“What?”

“About Tom.” He said again.

“I-“ You stopped yourself unsure of his reaction. “How did you know?”

“Little sister, I have been aware of his infatuation with you for years, he is my closest friend, I’ve noticed how much happier he is. It didn’t take much for me to figure out something was going on. Then I caught the two of you kissing in the library last week.” He said, smile on his face.

“Wait. You’re not mad?” You asked.

“Mad? No. Does he make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then honestly, that is all I care about. Be careful though, mother and father must never find out.”

 Harrison was incredibly supportive, he was much like you, he didn’t believe that you couldn’t have happiness in order to perform your duties. Having Harrison know made it much easier on you and Tom, Harrison helped sneak Tom into your room so he could hold you until you fell asleep, he also made sure Tom was gone from your room before anyone else arrived.

  “I asked if you wanted to go for walk down by the river next week.” Oliver smiled, there was something off about him, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. His smile was sweet but almost sickly sweet, like he was forcing it but not in the way as though he was uncomfortable, it was strange and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You said, almost bored.

“Yes, I suppose I am.” There was that smile again, almost as though it had an ulterior motive behind it.

“I will think about it.” You said.

“She will go.” Your mother interrupted.

“What?” You protested. “I just said I will think about it.” You snapped.

“You are being rude.” She snapped back.

“Forgive me but I do not see how that was rude. I said I would consider a date with him, I did not insult the man.” You snarled, Harrison laughed and concealed it with a cough.

“That is enough.” Your mother suddenly stood from her seat. “I apologise for my daughters incredibly bad manners Oliver. I will be in touch later in the week but right now I believe we need a family meeting. Y/N, Harrison, study now.” She snapped angrily as she made her way out of the room, you, Harrison, and your father in tow.

You all made your way into the study, your mother angrily slamming the door behind you all.

“You have read too many story books. Life for a Princess does not play out as those children’s stories do. You do not marry for love, you marry because it is expected of you and you marry to carry on the family name and lineage. I have heard enough of your excuses and we shall be choosing your suitor promptly.” Your mother spat at you as tears slipped from your eyes. You were thankful your parents didn’t know about Tom and what you’d been up to.

“But mother-“

“That is enough! I have stood by and watched you make a mockery of this Royal family for long enough, you will be like your brother, you will behave and you will get married by the end of the year.” She interrupted as she made her way out of the room.

“Father, please.” You pleaded with your father, he looked guilty for a second before he composed himself.

“My daughter, I have always wanted what is best for you. I have always wanted you to be happy but your mother is right, you cannot continue this path of rejecting every man who asks. It is decided, we shall be choosing who you marry.” He said as he followed your mother out of the room, leaving you and Harrison stood there.

“Harrison, what do I do?” You cried as your brother took you into his arms and tried to comfort you. “I love him.” You concluded and Harrison nodded.

“We’ll figure this out, I promise. If I was King, I’d allow it.” He clenched his jaw. “You deserve to be happy but we need to be smart about this. If you and Tom have any shot at a future, we have to be smart about this.”

You found yourself in your room that evening crying uncontrollably. You heard a soft knock at your door as you tried to compose yourself. You got up from your bed as you answered the door to be met with Harrison.

“I thought you could use a pick me up, don’t worry no one knows we’re here.” You furrowed your brows in confusion before Harrison practically shoved Tom into your room, shutting the door quickly. You looked at Tom for a second before you felt the tears again, you couldn’t control yourself as you practically fell into his arms and cried into his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist as his other ran through your hair.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s happened?” He asked as he held you.

“My mother, she’s insisting that I marry, she’s going to chose a suitor and I don’t want her to. Tom, I want you.” You cried and he held you tighter.

“Baby, you knew as well as I did that this couldn’t last forever. You were always someone I could never truly have, not forever.” He said into your hair and you only cried harder.

“It’s just not fair.”

“I know it’s not fair but it’s the reality, I’m sorry Princess.”

“But Tom, I love you.” You said as you pulled back and sniffled, wiping your nose. It was the first time you’d said it out loud but it was the truth, you truly did love him. He smiled sadly at you before picking you up and moving onto the bed with you, cuddling you into his chest, you felt safe, almost happy to be back in his arms.

“I love you too Princess. I always have.” He said and like you, this was the first time he’d said the words. “It sounds harsh on those women but they could never fill the void you created. I don’t think I’ve known a moment in my life where you haven’t consumed my thoughts.” He spoke and your heart warmed, he felt the same.

“I don’t care what happens Tom, I really don’t. I want you and I’m going to try and find a way to keep you.” You said as your tears subsided and he pulled you closer.

“Even if we’re not together Princess, you’ll always have a part of me. You’ll never truly lose me.” He whispered as you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you, letting yourself fall fully into the comfort of his arms.

“I’ll find a way Tom.” You whispered.

“Shh.” He whispered back, hand running through your hair as you fought to stay awake. “Get some sleep Princess. I always knew I couldn’t have you forever but I sure as hell will cherish what we have together forever.” He whispered into your hair as you succumbed to sleep.

**

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[ohheyitsokay]

spectators

part 8 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

paring: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.6k

warnings: strong language, kissing, enough fluff for a rich person chair

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, the Frankie and you appease the people who have been invested in their relationship this whole time.

>>

Pope threw the ball straight up, and caught it.

Then he did it again – he was thinking.

Right hand, then left. Right, left. The ball was in the air less and less time, but the speed didn’t increase. Eventually he was just tossing it straight into his own palm, slowly, thoughtfully, his gaze fixed somewhere far away.

Frankie watched, not even nervous. Of all the reactions he could’ve predicted this was more or less what he expected.

“I’m proud of you,” this throw was for Catfish.

“Thanks.” He caught it.

“You’re fucking lucky,” Pope grinned.

“I know.” Frankie threw it back.

“When is the next date?” Benny plucked it out of the air, a strange look in his eyes. The rest of the team was already back in the locker rooms, but they had held Frankie back, curious. He had spent the morning practice practically glowing, playing well, but suspiciously distracted. Initially, there was an onslaught of teasing and questions and exaggerated berating, but now they had quieted, actually processing this, as friends. Will look satisfied, happy even, but Frankie kicked himself, remembering too late that Ben’s most recent romance hadn’t worked out.

“Tonight – she thinks the parties are bad news,” he said it carefully - Ironhead had been the one to start sharing their pasts with you, but it was really out there now, for you to take or leave. He moved past them towards the showers and he heard Tom snort, making an exaggerated whipping sound. The older man had listened to his abbreviated story with a stoic face, just raised eyebrows and his arms crossed. Frankie’s jaw clenched, wondering if he should retort, but he didn’t get the chance.

It was quiet, but Will added, “She’s not wrong,” in that even, reasonable tone of his. The tension fell, and then rose, sharply, a testament to the respect they all held for the first-baseman's opinion. Trudging through the hallway suddenly felt too fast, too dangerous, like the conversation should’ve stayed outside. A long moment filled only by footsteps as they all considered, before Ben spoke. 

“Can I come?” Frankie stopped walking, turning incredulously and Santi smacked the rookie on the back of his head. Benny glared, but without any real bite. “Ow, fuck you - I’d rather hang out than go to another one of those stupid parties, wouldn’t you?” He looked defiant, meeting each of their eyes and gesturing with both of his arms, goading them to answer him, to disagree.

No one did, not even Tom, who glowered, the leather of his glove folded into deep wrinkles. Will’s blue eyes met the brown of Santi’s, and his mouth hooked into a smile. Deep laughter went a long way to thawing tension when it was genuine, and it was.

“Ben, you can’t crash Fish's date, we can do something else,” Will took his own turn smacking his brother but it was a bit of a bold statement. There were days when it felt like they really couldn’t so anything else, like there wasn’t other options that felt real – but they should be able to.

Frankie dragged a hand over his face before groaning a muffled, “Wait,” and sighing. He cursed, not even aware of what language it was in, occupied by the thought of what you would say if you were here. It was ridiculous but it felt right, and it was an opportunity for him to slow down again. “Honestly she would probably love if you guys hung out.”

There was a beat, where they stared at him, before the debate began. It didn’t last long, hushing as they reached the locker room, but by the time they were clean and dried and settled, it was decided. There really wasn’t a downside to it and really, they were all figuring you out, too. The lure of your smiles and home cooked food far outweighed the temptation of loud music and sticky floors and girls too tipsy to talk with, at least this time.

In the lull between the practice and the game, Frankie tried not to jump whenever his phone made a noise. One date in, and he was already daydreaming about just driving to your house and just kissing you until one of you had somewhere better to be. But you had a job, and things to finish so you had time for his game that evening, and he was acutely aware that while you had let that incredible evening – yesterday? – happen, he would need to slow down. He had already told you, he wanted to do this right.

He confirmed the plans for the evening, smiling as you agreed to host all his friends, and then tossed his phone into his bag. Then put a jacket on top of the bag, folded twice so it balanced precariously. When it buzzed he made himself take a lap around the building, and wanted to bang his head against the wall when it was a random email.

And all evening the thought of you. The game rolled in, and he squatted bitterly, annoyed his position left his back to the crowd. It meant he couldn’t look for you, and James. Logically he knew, even if you had told him your exact seats, he wouldn’t be able to make you out unless you were close, but that didn’t stop him from wishful thinking. 

Catch, catch, walk, sit, swing, hit, run, walk, sit. Repeat. 

The game built, and tensions were high as the scores stayed close and the crowd whispered about playoffs. It was the worst time for him to be batting, the pressure too high to be on the shoulders of a catcher, but it couldn’t be helped.

He walked out, listening to the blast of an old song too familiar to recognize, and the rumble of the announcer.

Frankie looked towards the crowd, knowing you were out there and fruitlessly wishing he could see you. He stopped at the plate, shifting on the balls of his feet, feeling the dirt under his cleats and trying to imagine your eyes on him. His hands tightened, loosened, tightened again, the wrap on the handle of the bat protested the movement, and he tried to hear you whispering his name.

You were cheering for him, right?

The ball hit his bat with a satisfying crack, and he didn’t watch where it went before he ran.

-

James was stalling.

You were supposed to drive him home, as always, but after spending most of the game filling him in about you and Francisco, there was no convincing him to move faster.

He wanted to see the man who had kissed his granddaughter – more than once! – and look him over again. The sweet, elderly man could be quite determined, especially when it involved two of his favorite people in the whole world. It meant waiting until the crowds fled and dodging staff who would no doubt shoo you away, but the eagerness on his little, wrinkled face made him impossible to deny.

“Jimbo, you’ve already met him,” you tried again, listening to the shrieks of a fangirl. After the surprising home run, the catcher was in high demand, and it made your stomach twist.

You had woken up this morning still shy and baffled at what you were to him, what was happening. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and you talked a lot, but not about... you, together. But James was certain, this was it, and he wanted to look Francisco in the eyes before he gave you his blessing.

His hand was in your elbow and you tugged, again, before withering under his look. He began lecturing you, about this being his job and you offered a compromise. This time, you weren’t invited, but you guided him towards the lobby where friends and family met the players, and when they let you in, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

Santiago found you first, and both of you got big hugs from him and the Miller boys, as they told you animatedly about how much hell they gave Frankie for bringing you home the first date. You barely got a word in, but you grinned as James joined their indignation.

In truth, your eyes were looking for Frankie, and you chided yourself at how much you ached for him, as always.

After a few minutes, Will pushed you towards the locker room, and you shot him a grateful smile. All the other players were clear, he told you, Frankie was being a baby about facing the fans. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, confirming that he was at loathe to run into anyone but you. They kept your grandfather occupied, and you knew they were in good hands as he was insisting he was hosting game night, that night.

Ducking into the hall, you followed the tile and the gaudy decorations, and found him.

Frankie, your Francisco was freshly showered, tshirt and jeans marked with drips from his curls, fiddling with his phone like he was waiting for you to text back. When he saw you, he dropped it into his bag, and your arms and eyes were suddenly full of him.

It was a crushing hug, he was eager and almost bursting with pride. You made a noise, you know you did, when only your toes were touching the ground, but he didn’t spin you around before he set you down.

He tried to pull away, he really did, but he couldn’t help but stay close, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were flushed as you congratulated him, telling him admiringly about how exciting his home run was.

Feeling him against you again was surreal. Mere weeks ago you had been watching him from a distance, and then burying ridiculous daydreams under the rug in your mind. And yet here he was, looking at you with the same softness as he had the night before, without regret, and like reality was better than a dream.

When he asked why and how you were here – not that he was complaining, you told him and explained about James. He only smiled, shifting closer to you again, telling you after all you put up with yesterday, he could certainly do this for you.

There was a pause, the air both clear and thick at the same time, and his head tilted, hands shifting on your hips. Thoughts of your family and friends and food slipped from your mind as his face drew closer, the tip of his nose tapping yours.

Brown eyes, searching your face, you almost felt like you could count his eye lashes. Frankie had little freckles, faint, spattered across the tan skin of his neck and face, and there were sweet little sparse patches in his beard.

“You know, we wont get any time alone, tonight.”

His tone was thoughtful, but he said it like he almost didn’t hear himself, and you could feel the edges of the words against your lips.

The hand on your hip slid up. Up and up, until it settled on the back of your head and he was pressing into you. Frankie’s kisses were deep and slow, like he couldn’t believe last night was not a figment of his imagination, and you wound your arms around him before you got lost in them. There were words in them, distant proclamations and promises and you pulled him into you, yearning to hear them clearly.

It could’ve been a minute or half an hour, between that moment and when he pulled away. With shock, you realized you had been pushed against the locker with his name on it, and his palm was cushioning your head.

There was a clatter of aluminum against the floor, and you jumped like caught teenagers. Then you were firmly planted on the ground again, and Frankie was turned around, shielding you like it was already instinct. Neither of you saw anyone, and his laughter was bashful and sweet. When he said you should probably go, and took your hand, you heard a genuine roughness in his voice.

Behind another row of lockers, Molly whispered into Tom’s neck, “Do you need to go, too? There’s that party tonight.” And he shrugged.

-

The environment at James' home was completely different than last time they were there. Things were less clean, there was less food, and everyone was twice as comfortable. 

It was strange, what really knowing them did - they teased you more, and breathed easier, as if they had never met someone who hadn’t minded it all. 

“Juice packets?” Will asked, confused at the drink selection, and you smiled when Santi winked at you. Tom hadn’t come but you thought it would be best to play it safe. It was important to you, that if they were choosing this over a party that it was lighthearted, sincere and simple.

“I just thought it would be fun,” you gave as your only explanation and he didn’t question it further. He did drink them three at a time, though, and when you laughed, you swore you saw his smile lines.

Benny was on your team, yelling and by far the most competitive, Santi and Will’s luck encouraging it every step of the way. They bickered like kids, bellowing laughter and rambunctious celebrations included. You made an extra rule – anyone who hit you with a pillow or playing piece had to buy you ice cream, next time the opportunity came up.

If should’ve been distracting, how James had pulled Frankie to the side to talk, but it warmed your heart. You didn’t need to swoop in and rescue him – they were talking like old friends, like Frankie was genuinely interested and invested in your beloved grandfather.

Every once in awhile, he would look up and meet your eyes, watching you with his friends with one corner of his mouth pulling higher. Once, you blew him a kiss and he scrunched his nose, like it hit him between the eyes.

Later, you scooted over to them, trying to steal him back, James leaned over and ruffled your hair before sternly, adorably telling you to let him have his turn with Frankie. When Frankie joined him, jokingly telling you to back off, you thought if it didn’t work out with him, Jimbo would adopt him. 

The night stretched beautifully late, before your grandfather lectured them on the importance of sleep and Benny spun you around in victory. There were stars in the sky, and you listened to their chatter fade as they piled into their cars, surprised at how affectionate you felt for all of them, after so little time and such unlikely circumstances. 

Frankie had stayed back, accepting goodbye hugs, and leaning against your car as you waved the other’s off. Of course, you asked, but he didn’t tell you what they talked about and he didn’t linger as long as you had hoped he would. 

His kiss was sweet and chaste, like he knew he had all the time in the world.

<<

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[ayellowcurtain]

This happen somewhere during season 3 - Their first date

Sander takes a deep breath. In and out, even slower. His heart is beating so fast and so loud he can feel it all over his chest. And he doesn’t know how to fix it, if that’s a thing it’ll happen every time he spends hours with Robbe, sharing a meal while talking about everything, so curious to know every detail of Robbe. He wonders if that’s what falling in love really means. It wasn’t his first first date but it feels like it. Robbe is the one that matters so that must be it, the feeling of anxiety, of not knowing what to do, how to behave to impress him. And Robbe has never been on a real date before so he had to make this perfect. A little bit of weight is off their shoulders because they were tipsy one night and did things in a different order.

But he still feels very anxious and excited. He's trying to behave like it's a real first date, like nothing ever happened between them, like he doesn't already feel madly, deeply in love with this boy.

He looks up carefully through his lashes, and Robbe looks at him the same way a second later. He snorts and Robbe laughs, looking back down at Sander's phone, finding the Bowie playlist he made for tonight. Robbe's new test, the advanced one he wanted a few weeks ago. Sander tried to be helpful that night but things went differently than expected, better than Sander could have ever imagined. The memories still are fresh in his mind, he can still feel Robbe’s soaking wet hair in between his fingers, the way Robbe left out a soft moan between their kiss that night. He can’t keep thinking about that kiss when they’re in public, acting like that kiss never happened.

They're standing so close they sort of make each other lose balance a little bit, swaying back and forth while Sander shares the link, sending it to Robbe. They are so close Sander feels like kissing Robbe, just pressing their lips together but he's not sure if he can so he waits, putting his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

"I'll do amazing in this test." Robbe thinks out loud, and Sander sighs, gently pressing their foreheads together to push Robbe away just enough so it’s easier to resist the urge to kiss him.

"I'll be the one to judge that." Robbe tilts his head, looking at Sander with that coy smile, and bright, innocent eyes, and Sander sighs again. Robbe is so cute, and irresistible, and they get each other so well already that he knows Sander is sighing because he's thinking how gone he already is. The feeling between them is magical, like Sander thought it would be since that night he first saw Robbe. He feels seen, and heard, not just a fake act like it was with Britt. Robbe actually listens, and talks, and they get each other and Sander is in awe that it’s real.

"So you're an annoying teacher?" Robbe presses his lips together, with his narrow eyes trying to not smile. Sander nods his head, and Robbe moves his in that way he does when he’s too shy to ask something.

He looks around, people passing by them without giving them much thought standing there, outside the restaurant they just ate at. Once the last couple is at a safe distance, almost at the end of the sidewalk a couple of meters down from them, Robbe gatters the courage to ask.

“Do you wanna go somewhere else now?” Robbe lifts his shoulders almost as high as they can go, his hands deep inside his pockets. Sander lifts his eyebrows, taking the question in, surprised to be invited to go somewhere else. He was certain their awkward date was over, and successful, hopefully. They would walk to the nearest station, hug each other for a little too long, and walk their separate ways, text each other all the way to their homes, not feeling like ending the night if they didn’t have to. If the text conversation felt as good as the real date did, Sander would find a way to ask for another date.

“Do you?”

He has to ask, make sure Robbe is not inviting him because he feels any pressure to do so. Robbe nods his head very shyly, and Sander feels his whole body warming up and melting a little at the same time. Robbe is too cute.

“Yeah, let’s go somewhere else.” He decides for them, turning his heels uncertainly to walk to the right. He saw a fancy hotel on his bus ride here. Maybe if he gathers the courage he’ll drop a comment about it when they’re passing by to see if that’s what Robbe wants to do.

They walk in silence for some time, stopping to wait for the green light to turn on for them, when he tries to quietly check on Robbe, their eyes meet, and Sander smiles, nodding his head for no reason.

“Can I tell you something?” Robbe asks once they’re on the other side of the street, still walking with no rush.

“Anything.”

“I don’t feel like going anywhere without you these days.”

Sander looks at him, still walking with no extra weight on his shoulder for being so open like that. “That’s nice...I don’t wanna do that either.”

Robbe smiles, and they continue walking, carefully like even the sound of their steps could make things more real than they already are.

“That day…” Robbe looks at him when Sander doesn’t say a thing because he is not following which day they’re talking about. “The first test.”

“Oh. What about it?”

“Were you and Britt…?”

Sander knows what he means by the way Robbe lifts his eyebrows suggestively but he doesn’t understand how he would go to that conclusion. “She walked behind you wearing only a towel.” Robbe explains, and only then Sander remembers more about that day before their video call. He laughs, feeling stupid for talking about it.

“No. She wanted to, but I was busy rushing to create a playlist to find a way to talk to a guy I’ve met through her. So she got pissed, and went to take a shower.”

Robbe laughs, and Sander watches his tanned skin turn redder on his cheeks. They’re walking so closely their arms keep hitting each other, so they walk slower, and Sander plays with Robbe’s fingers quietly, acting like it’s an accident that their fingers keep brushing against each other.

“Were you surprised that I was calling you?”

Robbe nods his head, kicking some rocks on the sidewalk, finally looking at Sander, squinting his eyes a little bit because of the bright street lights.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about...I don’t know, talking to you in any way. So when you replied to my text right away and I saw you were online still, I did it without thinking much about it.”

“Do you regret it?” Robbe asks, closing one of his eyes so he can see Sander.

“No, never.”

“It was nice. I was listening to your playlist when you called.”

“Did you really like it or were you just being nice?” Sander smiles, and Robbe laughs, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Of course I did! I wouldn’t lie to you about that. I know how Bowie is important to you, the love of your life.”

Sander snorts at that, looking at Robbe, holding his gaze.

“Do you really need to hear me say it?”

They both know what’s on the underlines of that question.

“We’ll go back to this in a few weeks.”

“Okay, Bowie.”

Robbe smiles, and he finally holds Sander’s hand, leaning against his arm a little bit, keeping Sander’s hand in between both of his.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Sero NSFW alphabet

I can write sero smut... as a treat. 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He treats you like a god once he’s done with you. He’s a big fan of after sex massages. Sero also likes to smoke a little after sex but that usually leads to one of you getting horny and having sex again so like/ not really after sex more like mid sex. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s got such a nice jaw and he knows it. Please kiss his jaw and chin he will get so riled up. 

Sero likes your back, it’s got such a nice shape to it and he loves the little moles and freckles on your back. He spends a lot of time touching your back when you too cuddle/ looking at it while he rails you from behind

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

his cum is so fucking thick for no reason. He can’t really do cum shots because it’s too god damn heavy to fly off. it’s also like, sweet? not like a lot just a little sweeter than average, it makes going down on him bearable. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He takes so many practice nudes, Like he is so concerned you won’t like his dick pics so he takes a thousand and only sends you the best ones. this also leads to posing after he gets out of the shower. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean he’s had sex before but probably only one or two partners, its a bit of a learning experience for both of you. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It changes day to day tbh on the one hand he likes fucking you from behind where you’re laying down, but he also likes it when he tapes your legs above you're head and he fucks you that way but also also he loves it when you ride him - or when He fucks you while spooning gah theirs just too many to chose from. for the most part though he likes positions where he gets to touch you and look at you as much as possible. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

...if you read kinktober day 31 you know what i think. Yeah he’s an absolute CLOWN do not trust this boy he will start humming the wee theme song in the middle of blowing your back out. He loves to see you laugh so he might fuck around and start tickling you while he’s eating you ot or something.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This boy has a full on bush he is so fucking hairy. he has a thick treasure trail starting at his belly button and leading to his pubes wich are a mess tbh. he keeps it clean but like unless you ask him to trim he won’t think to do it. a lot of chest on his chest and his under arms too

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like I said most of the time he’s a goof but hear me out- after like a glass of wine he gets so romantic. Please imagine tipsy Sero whispering soft praise in your ear and calling you pet names in Spanish while he kisses your neck and fingers you. 

something to think about idk

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not often tbh, really only when you’re not around to do it for him but most of the time he’s patient enough to wait for you to be in the mood too. but if you ask he will send you a video of him putting, all those practice nudes pay off. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

food play- That one ask really did something for me AnYwAys. He liked feeding his partner, it really turns him on and he loves it when he gets to eat off of you, and he generally has an oral fixation and this feeds you. 

praise- please he is so soft, he loves to worship your body and tell you how gorgeous he thinks you look when he’s fucking you and he will go feral if you give him some of that energy back he loves it when you praise him

cum play- uhm. hmm, how to phrase this. He likes to cum in you and when he pulls out push the cum back in with his fingers until it’s all soaked up same if he came in your mouth

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

shower/ bath sex babie. He loves the feeling of water around you and it’s also super hot when both of you are sweaty/ dirty he really gets off on that. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when you're clingy. he feels his soul assend to a higher plain of being when you needy and crawl into his lap to hug him. Of course if you’re not feeling it he can be a gentleman and keep his hands to himself but if you want to be even closer with him...

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

piss. Idk he just thinks it’s gross

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

you are his fucking world and his face is your throne please watterboard him he loves to give head you are just so yummy he can’t get enough of you. 

he likes getting head as much as the next guy but it’s really an after thought to absolutely devouring you and making your legs shake. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to go slow and take his time unraveling you. His strokes are long and deep. it’s almost torture that he won’t speed up unless you beg him. Sero takes his sweet time building you up, and you hate it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

pretty indifferent tbh. He likes them fine and he enjoys the risk of doing it in some place public but he’d prefer to fuck you properly some where he can take his time with you

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

meh he knows what a he likes so he can be a little hesitant to try something new but he’ll usually bend to your will and try something for you. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

pretty average, he can go for a while with out busting but after he cums he gets pretty tired quickly and needs a break in between rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

like I said earlier he loves to tie you up and use his tape on you and he’s a pretty big fan of other toys too like vibrators and nipple clamps, anything to get you worked up really. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

mmm not really a tease in his actions but in his words. He likes to pick on you a little bit to get a laugh or make you beg if you really want something but he’s usually not the type to withhold pleasure, unless you’ve been really bad.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is quiet but he talks a lot. Sero likes to moan in your ear softly, He’ll praise you and tell you how pretty you look right now and whisper how much he loves you but it’s all easily drowed out by the noises you make which he lives to hear. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I didn’t have anywhere else to put this but he is a big Service top / Pleasure dom. He’s not really mean to you and he will do just about anything you want him too but he sure as hell is in charge and he reminds you of that fact by overstimulating you until you’re crying and can’t take anymore. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

hee hee he’s got a big cock. I know it I know it’s big. hmm no thoughts just sero’s big cock. uhm anyways like pretty nice it’s long and thick with some pretty purple veins and a slight left curve to it

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I mean. it’s healthy but not as high as say Kaminiari’s sex drive. little things get him worked up and that tends to build until it’s too much to take

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will stay awake long enough to take care of you but he likes to cuddle pretty soon afterwards. 

[vminity21]

hoax | jjk

Pairing: friend!Jeongguk x female!reader, friendship to lovers!au

Word Count: 2,854

Genre: fluff/smut/angst

Warning(s): angst involving unrequited love, foul language use, smut, oral (m receiving), grinding, smutty kissing, unprotected sex, may or may not have happened in a restaurant,  slight fem!dom Rated: 18+

Summary: the hoax was that you assumed it was unrequited love, but being approached by Jeongguk’s potential love interest proved otherwise, and the determination of confessing your feelings had never been so strong.

Credit to: @suhdays​ for the cover! I’m obsessed with it!

It’s crazy to think that just a certain way someone looks at you can spark a desire to dream about every and any scenario you can fester to make reality seem promising. Especially when it comes to a potential future with a suitor who’s gentle eyes meet yours now and again definitely trailing strings of hope in its wake. You imagine the way he would touch you in a dim, candlelit room where nervous breaths echo and wide eyes venture; you imagine the way he would tease you with silly banter if you could only muster enough bravery to sit next to him; you would envision moments of laughter even in the hours of the early morning before heading to work; you even ponder about how he would kiss you the very second you confess your love for him.

You wonder, you wonder, you wonder.

Palm clutching the metal doorknob from inside the bathroom, nerves tingle along your stomach when a fresh wave of nausea erupts. He is out there somewhere in the dining hall with his family as well as yours, and everyone assumes you are working late. Desperate to reveal what you have kept underneath for too long, your boss gave you the evening off, and here you are fully clothed in a glimmering dress, hair curled, and makeup dazzling your face. Mind drifting to all the events leading up to this moment has been what fueled your impulse of a decision.

When a friend of the past, LenLen, reached out to you last spring, you immediately took it considering it had been years since you had seen her including her four siblings: Maeve, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jeongguk. Unfortunately, your siblings, Monnie and Hoseok, happened to be busy that evening but you still went anyway, driving to what happens to be your favorite Italian restaurant. Seeing LenLen for the first time in four years was exciting, and you were happy to discover she had a boyfriend by the name of Kim Namjoon. His tall frame nearly overtowered LenLen and you were very appreciative of how social he was, and you found it quite adorable that they happened to meet on a popular dating app where many knew it to be for casual hookups.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the crew to show up, but you were amazed at how much everyone had grown- four years can make a world of difference, but you will never forget when your eyes landed on Jeongguk- your heart nearly leaped from your chest. Dark strands parted to showcase glimmering brown eyes and a thin lipped smile remained on his face nearly the entire evening. The attraction you felt was evident to you especially when everyone decided to continue the evening with mini golf. Anytime he was around you, it was like the feelings budded into a hope you weren’t sure how to control.

LenLen and Namjoon who you had carpooled with after dropping your car off at the apartment, decided to head home and LenLen’s siblings offered to drive you back to where you live. Jeongguk wouldn’t even drop you off where you claimed you would walk, parking in a handicap spot close enough to where the walk was easier to get to your door. He hadn’t gone with you but you were thankful he was kind enough to dismiss your original request. After a few days, you received a dm of a meme that he said made him think of you which ignited the excitement that he may be interested in you after all, but it was the most short lived four messages you had ever seen.

Moving on, nearly a year and a half passed when your roommate and best friend, Min Yoongi, decided to move into a new apartment ten minutes down the road, and your sister Monnie was preparing to move in to take Yoongi’s place. Maeve happens to be very fond of Monnie, and a month prior to the move, LenLen and Maeve invited you and Monnie to hangout at a Brewery not far down the road from your apartment. LenLen and Namjoon mentioned a guy named Seokjin who they were going to try setting you up with even though you already had a person in mind. When Monnie messaged you about the plans, you jokingly asked if Jeongguk was going to be there and at first he wasn’t, but when the day came, and he showed up at the table-

your hands went completely numb.

His presence was so overwhelming that you felt the need to consume enough alcohol to tipsy away the anxiety revolving around how shocked you were to see Jeongguk in all his glory sitting across from you. Taehyung took the seat to your left; Monnie had the biggest crush on Taehyung until Seokjin arrived and although the broad shoulders nearly caved you in, you knew Seokjin was your sister’s type and before you knew it, you caught Seokjin sneaking glimpses of Monnie every chance he got. And, after a few weeks, Seokjin and Monnie became the next couple aside from LenLen and Namjoon, cuddling at every bonfire.

As much as you hoped for Jeongguk’s attention, the most you scored was a teasing side eye while he planted his car keys into your hand where his fingers lingered a bit longer than you expected; also, the quick witted flirt of when you dropped your phone he offered to call it resulting in a deep blush flushing across your chest. Even admitting to him how he most definitely had muscles despite his insecurity of wanting his body to become more buff, and you may have spilled that he was attractive, because he is. The funny part is this all happened in front of Cadence- a girl Jeongguk had feelings for and the same girl who upset you enough that you are now hiding in the bathroom, trying to suppress the fuming anger boiling in your chest.

‘You think for one second he meant anything he said to you? I’m the one he wants and you know it.’

She was the first to see your arrival, and she immediately approached you with intense determination and resentment etched in her red lipped frown. She made it clear that she was aware of you and Jeongguk sharing a serious moment where you almost fully confessed, and he claimed how lucky any guy would be to have you. Your heart shattered for you knew he was stuck between a woman who couldn’t make up her mind and a woman that could. It was like he knew what the true answer was but he battled on not wanting to hurt anyone. When Cadence said what she said, you literally muttered, “What are we, in high school?” Offending the girl enough that you were able to stomp away, tears brimmed, yet you knew you couldn’t give up on Jeongguk just yet.

Bursting through the restroom door, the front of your gown clutched within both hands as you dash past the waiters and waitresses concentrating on balancing trays of food while the air reverberates with clinking glasses and scraping forks. The waft of savory meat and loaves of bread floods your nostrils, yet your eyes search the crowded tables for only one person. Frantically, you find his brother, Taehyung, fitted in a suit, chowing down on his dinner, “Hey, have you seen Guk?” You lean toward his ear trying to maintain your cool.

“Yeah, he’s over there,” Taehyung points toward his right where a few chairs away sat Jeongguk merrily conversing with his siblings though a sadness clouds his umber eyes. When you left earlier, he appeared visibly hurt that you couldn’t make it tonight, but here you are, rushing to him as if this would be the last time you would ever see him again.

“Guk!” You breathe, his wide eyes immediately turning to see you halting before him.

“Y/N? I thought-” He scoots his chair back to stand to his feet, overtowering you as his hair falls into his eyes. The sounds of the restaurant are loud enough to not make the scene unfolding as noticeable, but even if there was to be silence, you could care less.

“I worked it out with my boss, and I’m here now, and I don’t give two fucks what Cadence says-” you’re panting now as well as burning up with unwanted blushes.

“Cadence? She’s here?”

“Of course she is, when is she not with you?” Wetting his lips, his eyebrows furrow when he swallows slowly.

“I didn’t invite her.”

Shock is evident in your expression as the words died on your tongue, “You didn’t?”

“No, because it wasn’t her that I wanted to see tonight.”

When relief floods your limbs, you are hardly in a position to think straight for the man you’ve been hoping for all this time is finally seeing the light that has been shining this entire time: you. “Guk, I love you,” gasping, his lips collide with yours without any hesitation as his palms move to grip your waist. The tips of your thumbs find the corners of his lips while he kisses you slowly, taking in every moment that he never wants to lose any further for you are the missing puzzle piece that he has needed. He wants to show how sorry he is for letting you down prior to this moment; how blind he was to ever think he could let you walk away, and as stunning as you are, his heart pounds significantly.

“Awwww,” you hear Monnie coo as you giggle against his kiss. Jeongguk’s lips hardly leave yours before the pair of you find yourselves in a walkway where swinging doors meet at each end of the hall. Empty food carts are sporadic within the space and it’s so dim, your mind races with the feelings growing in all the right places. Moaning into his kiss when tongues meet, his arms latch underneath your ass before lifting you up to where your back hits the wall. Kisses growing so aggressive yet so passionate, you feel like you can’t catch a good breath and the last thing you ever want is to stop. Fingers tangling with the dark strands of his hair, your legs wrap tightly around his frame while you slide your teeth over his bottom lip, him hissing in response as he continues to bruise your mouth with the same hunger.

You are hoping not one individual happens to walk through here, and yet you don’t seem to mind this scandalous desperation of finally becoming one with the love of your life who happens to love you in return though it took a long time coming. Your dress has slid up to your thighs exposing your skin where you feel the material of his tuxedo and when the click of your heels meet the ground after a few more minutes of paradise, you feel his erection against your abdomen which arouses you to oblivion, and the sheet of your dress returns to sway against your shins.

Lost in the continuous motion of his kiss, you realize he plops into a chair that the back of his calves happened to discover. Breathless, you realize his attire has been disheveled while his hazy eyes sweep your figure, and with a lustful gaze you party a knowing smirk. Seductively you step forward to slowly swing each leg over his frame, set in a perfect straddle where your core grazes along his length. He hums pleasurably while you move your hips back and forth in a tease before pressing your lips to the corner of his jaw. Jeongguk struggles where to place his hands, sliding them along your back until he squeezes your thighs, letting you glide as much as you want while you pepper kisses on any visible skin you see.

Heat clenching, you can hardly take it anymore when you scramble to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his slacks, parting the slit in his underwear to reveal his being prompting your mouth to water at the sight. Jeongguk inhales sharply, you wanting to get down to business, sliding backward off his lap until your ajar mouth tickles along his shaft to build anticipation. “You don’t have to-”

“Shut up,” you take charge, fingers accepting his length carefully while the tip of your tongue dances from the base of his being to the tip in an agonizing pace. He places his hands within the curls of your hair, tightening his grip as he groans in ecstasy. Swirling your tongue along his tip, spreading his precum on his surface, you dip, sucking up and down- the feeling so satisfying, he can’t take his eyes off you. “Fuck,” his raspy voice sounds, “you feel so good.”

His words ignite the motivation to keep going, sashaying your tongue along his girth while you continue the bliss, but you didn’t want him to finish too soon. Releasing, you stand to bundle your dress up to expose a coral thong, shedding it down your legs prompting Guk to raise his hands in surrender. “Are you gonna at least let me pleasure-” Leaning forward with the sexiest menacing look you can muster, you fold your palm over the chair, inching as close to his face as you can to where your mouth barely brushes his panting lips. His words stop, eyes enlarging at the way you take the lead so effortlessly.

“I said shut. Up.” Deep down, you are willing to admit that you are truly showing Jeongguk what he will be missing if he ever decides to change his mind, and with the truth appearing at bay, there is nothing that you could ever do that will ever scare him away. He wants to make you feel good too. He wants to be with you. Reaching for his length, you position it beneath your core, letting the sloppy sound of your wetness cover his tip before taking him all in.

“Ooooh my-“ He grits his teeth trying to control himself and when you nod your permission, he begins his thrusting, your hands tangled in his hair while you moan against his ear. The way he moves sends you over the edge in the most erotic way, and with each stroke, he hits your g-spot, the strong feeling growing so intensely, you can feel the brink of a climax. “Keep going!” You gasp, “Keep going, Jeongguk, keep- ah!” Your toes curl against your heels as your thighs tighten, your high coming to its completion, as an orgasm overtakes your senses. Jeongguk spills within in you, arms wrapping around you tightly while he presses his mouth into your shoulder. Hugging him back, you have forgotten the existence of time, and how long you two hold each other, you are unsure.

“I’m so sorry that I-”

“Don’t.” You stop his whisper, eyes closed while you bury your face into the crook of his neck, taking in the crisp scent of his cologne. “I’m just glad you’re with me now.”

He tips his head enough to where you turn to face him, a seriousness overcomes his expression, his stare flitting to make contact with your own, “I love you, too.” Hearing the words become so real to the point that you almost want to cry tears of joy, but that doesn’t get to happen.

“Uh-” A male voice echoes, scrambling to your feet in pure terror, while the scrape of a turning chair holds Jeongguk fumbling to return his area back into his pants. Jimin stands frozen in place while you struggle to form any phrase.

“It’s not- it’s not what you think!” You squeak, your skin burning from embarrassment. As soon as the words left your mouth, Jimin’s ajar lips and wide eyes, look down at your crumpled thong that still rests proudly upon the floor. Shit, you shudder, and Jimin’s stiffened frame, shifts to exit the hallway, Jeongguk stifling laughter while you twirl to face him. Unbeknownst to you, Guk had reached to retrieve the damp garment, shaking his head. “You’re laughing? Your brother just caught us having sex in a restaurant!”

“An isolated part of a restaurant. And, I promise you he didn’t see too much of anything, I think he will be fine,” Guk chuckles, standing to his feet while you stare at him in calm disbelief.

“If this gets back to Monnie, I will never hear the end of it.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” you reply, relaxing into his embrace.

“Good. Because I plan to be around every time she brings it up.” Tilting your chin, he kisses you once again. “And,” he pulls away swiftly, raising your thong to your peripheral vision, “I want plenty reasons to have to return these to where they rightfully belong.”

And just like that, your dreams come true, staring up at his wide smile that scrunches his nose, and the way he looks at you returning the same joy- the hoax of unrequited love almost made you give up, and Jeongguk is determined to never let you slip away ever again.

[hongnanglen-arina]

Movie night? | Jeon Wonwoo

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warnings: abandoned movies, horny!Wonu, dirty talk, fingering

Words: 1390

A/N: Hi! Wonu’s recent ab flashes were too much for me to handle.. so this shortish one happened... and as always, please remember that English isn't my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

---

You should have known better when you invited your boyfriend over for a movie night that you wouldn’t finish all the movies you chose for today. To be honest, you weren’t exactly disappointed because the two of you have always been very needy for each other but you thought you would at least make it to the end of the second one. But reality taught you better - again.

During the ending credits of the first movie, Wonwoo put his bag of chips to the side and turned to you with a smirk on his lips and you immediately knew what he was thinking. “Hey, be proud of me that I didn’t rip your clothes off when that guy made out with the main actress because… I was this close…” His sharp eyes bore into your soul as he inched closer. You two were leaning against the couch with your backs, sitting in the middle of a pile of fuzzy blankets on the floor, with lots of snacks and some drinks between you two and the huge tv you got yourself as your own christmas present 2 years ago. Each of you had finished their first can of beer, not enough alcohol in the system to call yourselves tipsy - instead you were hungry. For each other.

“Did you see how he threw her on the bed? Hella wild, right?” Wonwoo breathed against your ear, making you shiver. His voice was naturally deep but like this and with you, it was so much deeper that you were sure you could die of a heatstroke just because of that. Your cheeks burned and he merely did anything yet. “Wonwoo… d-do something or I will start the next movie…..” You were surprised of yourself. Normally you wouldn’t dare to say that since you wanted to feel him closer already. He always knew you better than anyone else and whenever he was in the mood for teasing, he would stop everything and act as if nothing happened. It would frustrate you so much that you often end up on his lap, trying to get what you wanted - what you needed. Wonwoo had so much more self composure than you. He would mock you for being so needy. For grinding against his things, for begging for more. He just had so much power over you. Not only this but you would always lose against him. No matter the occasion. Book or movie quotes. If the food you couldn’t finish would fit in the containers or not. Sprints. Games. This boy was unbelievable in those things. As well as in your ‘sexy time’. 

His hand found your bare thigh, kneading your hot skin while his lips left open mouthed kisses on your exposed neck. You lifted your arm and slid your hand underneath his shirt, letting your nails skim over his chest and abs which caused him to hum against your skin. He took the collar of your shirt between his teeth and tugged at it so that it slipped down your shoulder and arm. The fact that you loved oversized clothes made it easy for him to get what he wanted. There were many shirts of your boyfriend at your place. Mostly because you loved his scent but also because they were too big for your form which you loved. So it was a double win. You knew that he loved to see you in his clothes. He found it endearing and often made sure to tell you that. 

“Ah!” You gasped when you felt his teeth carefully bite down the exposed mound of your breast, licking over the little mark. “Mh so soft…” You were about to say something when you felt a firm grip on your wrist, removing your hand from his chest and placed it on his crotch. “Touch me.” And again, his cat like eyes bore into yours and you absentmindedly gulped, doing what you were told. You moved your hand over his almost fully erect length, even feeling the veins through the thin fabrics of his boxers. Wonwoo made a pleased noise and pulled you in for a deep kiss, pushing you back and down on your back in the process.

Even though the warmth of the blankets was gone, you still felt hot. Especially when his fingers were back on your hip, drawing circles with his thumb before letting his hand disappear between your thighs. You let out a yelp when his cold and slender fingers slid underneath your panties but he swallowed your noises with his kiss, letting his tongue explore your mouth. “Interesting.” You felt him grin against your lips as he started to spread your arousal where he needed it to be. “What is my girl so wet for, mh?” You bit your bottom lip, stroking his length again, in hopes you didn’t need to answer his question but without success. “Tell me or I will stop” He knew how shy you were with dirty talk. He was a master in it but you? You were always a blushing mess. “I… for you, Wonwoo…” His middle finger rubbed over you clit and your back arched at the friction, pushing your chest against his with a whine. “I haven’t done anything… tell me what you were imagining.” You felt a wet patch on his boxers. He really enjoyed your little dialogue. You moved your fingers so your nail could scratch slightly over the wet patch and his sensitive tip and it made him groan instantly. “… I imagined how you… would do the same things to me… like in the movie.. I guess…” 

Without a warning, he pushed two of his fingers in you and you couldn’t hold back your high pitched moan. “Means… you want it rough today?” “M-maybe..” A third finger joined but he wouldn’t move them, instead they stood still, your walls pulsating around them. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged at it before releasing it. You just realized that you had closed your eyes and you couldn’t remember when but when you opened them again, you were met with your handsome boyfriend smirking down at you. “As you wish, baby.”

With that said, he shook his hand with such a force that it felt as if a vibrating toy was deep in your core. Squirming under his treatment, he watched your every move, every emotion on your face, adoring the sweet noises you let free and into the room. Just for him. Without knowing you squeezed his hand between your legs, it slowly became too much. Wonwoo knew exactly what he was doing and how he could bring you to your climax. You had forgotten about his previous words and your hand on his cock. Secretly you were praying he would let it slide and finish you although you disobeyed his order. Your hands were grabbing at the blankets beside you, that familiar knot steadily forming inside of you. “Nngh…. W-wonwoo…. ahh…” His fingers were still shaking in your core, giving you just the right amount of friction that you needed. The grip on the soft fabrics got tighter, so did your moans and whimpers. You were so close that everything spun in your head. You could smell beer, the different snacks beside you two and your arousal, mixed with his favorite cologne. Turning your head to the side and getting ready for your high, you felt him bite down your neck and it was the last thing you needed. With a loud cry of his name, you came around his fingers, messily moving your hips to feel more or to feel less. Your mind couldn’t decide. His fingers slid in and out of your clenching walls, not shaking anymore which you were thankful for because you slowly became sensitive to his penetration.

Your boyfriend sensed it and slowed down until he pulled his fingers out to lick them clean, slurping pleasantly. “Fuck, I love your taste.”

With flushed cheeks and a thin layer of sweat covering your body, you turned to face him, sheepishly watching him clean his fingers from your juice. “Thank you, Wonwoo.”

Suddenly the room turned dark as the tv screen became black for not using it for a while. “Don’t think I’m done with you”, you heard him say in a low tone.

[sachigram]

With Teeth Chapter 4

((click here to read on ao3!))

The next few days pass by normally for Shizuo. He's been making more of an effort to be social, doesn't want to make his friends feel left out of his life. He could see how it hurt them before when he pushed them away. As a result, he has more things to do, and he feels better than he has in ages.

Tonight, he's sitting across from Tom, next to Vorona. They're all having drinks to celebrate a successful week at work, and Shizuo is looking forward to the weekend. He doesn't have any plans on his off days, but he likes not having to worry about tracking down some low-life, even if he's only free of it two days a week.

“Any plans this weekend?” Tom asks them both. He's flushed, clearly tipsy already. Shizuo has a high tolerance, and he's pretty sure Vorona does too, because she's drinking faster than either of them, and she seems perfectly sober.

“Negative,” Vorona replies while Shizuo merely shakes his head. “I may go to the bookstore tomorrow.”

“Your checks all go to books,” Tom says. “You should live a little.”

“To acquire knowledge is life's goal.”

Tom looks from her to Shizuo and raises his eyebrows. Immediately, Shizuo feels like Tom is about to do something stupid.

“Why don't the two of you hang out together? Since neither of you have plans.” Tom sips his drink, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. Shizuo's blood boils.

“I—“ he starts, but is interrupted when Vorona speaks.

“That would be nice.”

“Huh?” Shizuo asks, turning to face her. She's looking at him with her usual indifferent gaze, not the least bit affronted by the idea.

“If it would be agreeable for Shizuo-senpai, I see no reason we cannot meet tomorrow,” Vorona says, and she tosses back the rest of her drink. It's straight gin, no mixer, no rocks, but she doesn't even flinch. Just the smell of it has been burning Shizuo's nose.

“Oh, um. If you want to,” Shizuo says, unsure of what's even happening.

“So it's a date then,” Tom announces, and he goes to get them all more drinks.

***

“You shouldn't have done that,” Shizuo grumbles later, after Vorona has split away from them to go catch her train. “You made her feel like she had to agree.”

“Shizuo, come on, man. How do you miss the way she looks at you? She's had a thing for you since she started working with us.” Tom is stumbling a bit as he walks, and Shizuo considers letting him face-plant if he falls.

“She does not. And even if she did, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

Tom looks up at Shizuo, giving him such an incredulous look that it's almost reminisce of the way the flea looks at him.

“What are you supposed to do about it?” Tom repeats, and then he laughs. “Oh, my god. You're killing me.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. I'm not someone that anyone should have a thing for. I'm dangerous, and it's only gotten worse.” Shizuo looks up at the sky, sees the lights of airplanes flying overhead. “I don't want to hurt her.”

“You don't hurt people who don't deserve it,” Tom replies, and Shizuo thinks of that strange dream he had before, the one where Izaya was there, seeing his worst memory. “Give yourself some credit, would you? Have fun. Try to be happy.”

“I am trying. This is a bad idea.”

“Well, too late now. If you stand her up, you really will be an asshole,” Tom says, and then he falls on his face. Shizuo makes no move to help him up.

Shizuo doesn't sleep that night. He's too anxious about his “date” with Vorona, has no idea what they'll do or what they'll talk about. He's tried before to think of himself as the kind of guy who would be lucky enough to have a pretty girl on his arm, but it's always too much of a fantasy, something unattainable and pointless to hope for. Vorona is strong, and she's seen him fight, knows what he's capable of, but it's different to behold someone dangerous from the sidelines and then up close, when it's turned on you. He imagines her look of indifference changing to real fear when he lunges at her, and he doesn't realize until he's waking up that he actually managed to slip into unconsciousness.

“Fuck.” He gets up from the bed, moving to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He's terrified of what will come, of what he is. More than anything, he's sick of being so terrified. His reflection is older, maybe wiser, but all Shizuo can see is that same snotty kid who hurt someone he wanted to protect once.

***

He meets Vorona at the train station. She's dressed the same as she always is, and he's grateful she didn't do anything different in her routine for his sake. She lifts a hand in greeting, studying his face.

“You appear tired,” she says.

“Yeah. Didn't sleep well last night. Sorry.”

“No apology necessary. Perhaps we could get coffee first, both wake up a little more.”

As it turns out, following Vorona around isn't too different from trailing after Tom. She doesn't talk nearly as much, but she doesn't seem to mind taking the lead, and she doesn't take his silence as disinterest. They wind up going to the bookstore Vorona mentioned, grabbing coffee from a little kiosk outside before wandering the aisles. Vorona picks up a book every now and then, explains it to Shizuo in a way he can understand without being pretentious about it, and he finds that he's actually enjoying himself.

After Vorona purchases some new books, they make their way down the street to a restaurant she says she's been wanting to try. This is the part Shizuo was worried about, having to sit alone with her and have her realize he's got absolutely nothing interesting to say, but they manage to keep the conversation going. It's easier than Shizuo expected, and he finds himself thinking he should thank Tom later for setting this up.

“You seem happier than before,” Vorona says when they're walking out of the restaurant. “You were so quiet for so long.”

Shizuo opens his mouth to ask what she means, but he thinks he knows. He was feeling sorry for himself after the bite, wanted to keep everyone out, pushed them away. He is happier now than he was then, but he's still a coward, and he's still scared of anyone learning his secret.

“I'm better now,” he says, feeling that it's true.

“I am very glad,” she replies, and she gives him a rare smile.

That night, as Shizuo walks home after escorting Vorona to the train station, he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Yo,” he says, picking up the call.

“How did it go?”  Tom asks.

“It was...nice,” Shizuo says. He can practically feel Tom's frustrations through the phone.

“Nice? That's not telling me anything!”

“We had a good time. It was much better than I thought it would be.”

“I guess that's all I'm going to get from you. Either way, I'm glad. I think you'll both be good for each other.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo replies. For the first time in his life, he can picture a girl on his arm. “Me too.”

***

The days that follow are slow, but enjoyable. Shizuo goes to work, hangs out with Tom and Vorona, makes plans to spend time with Vorona again on the upcoming weekend. He's almost able to forget all about his ailment, and the bullshit alliance he has with Izaya, who has been silent since storming out of his place the morning after the full moon. Shizuo will have to see him soon so he can stock back up on his potion, and he's not looking forward to it. Part of him worries what Izaya might do if he learns Shizuo is dating Vorona. Izaya wants to ruin every good thing in Shizuo's life. There's no way he wouldn't interfere.

Still, Shizuo is enjoying his period of peace. He's able to sidestep his involuntary entanglement with the other world, with Izaya. He's enjoying feeling like himself again, whoever that may be.

Friday night, before his date with Vorona on Saturday, he's able to find sleep easily, but it doesn't feel like sleeping. He closes his eyes in his room, opens them somewhere else. He hears the sounds of crying, of screaming, and while he should move away from it, he finds himself moving closer. There's a familiar scene before him, one of himself standing in front of a small boy cowering in a corner while two toddlers scream in their cribs. It feels like he's been here before, but he can't place why, not until the small boy looks up at him.

“Izaya,” Shizuo breathes. He doesn't know his own age here, but he can see how small Izaya is, how scared. It's unsettling. Shizuo has never seen fear on Izaya's face before.

“Who are you?” Izaya asks him, looking up at him with wonder.

“You don't know me?” Shizuo asks in disbelief. Izaya has his webs of deceit stretched over everything, over everyone, so time and space probably mean nothing to him either. But when Izaya shakes his head, Shizuo finds he instantly believes him.

“Am I dreaming?” Izaya looks around. “Are you a vision? You're not a ghost, right?”

“No,” Shizuo says. “I'm dreaming. I don't know what the fuck you're doing. You're a witch, right? You've gotta be the one doing something.”

Izaya flinches at the word “witch”, and he looks nervously around himself before looking back up at Shizuo.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shizuo snaps, and Izaya flinches even more. Shizuo feels concern for the kid in front of him, even knowing who he is, or at least who he'll grow up to be. Is this real? It's not real; it can't be real. It's a dream, one of those lucid dreams he's heard about. He'll ask Shinra about it later.

“Your mind is loud,” Izaya says, and he stands up, padding across the floor to stand in front of Shizuo. How is the flea so tall? He's a small kid, can't be more than twelve if the twins are still toddlers, but Shizuo is looking in Izaya's eyes. Izaya snorts, amused. “I'm not tall. You're the same height as me.”

Shizuo looks down at himself, realizes he's a kid here, too, but with all his memories of the future. He looks back at Izaya, dubious of him, and the amusement drains from Izaya's face.

“You really don't like me,” Izaya says, and he fidgets.

“You ruined my life,” Shizuo spits. “Or you will, anyway.”

“Oh.” Izaya's voice is small. “I've sensed terrible things to come in the future. Things for myself, especially, but I don't know how to stop any of it. I don't think it can be stopped.”

“The future is shitty already, but you make it worse. You enjoy making people suffer. The Izaya I know is—“ Shizuo stops himself, realizes he was yelling. Izaya seems terrified of him, but also curious, his eyes shining even in the darkness of the room.

“You're the realest vision I've ever had,” Izaya says. “I hope I remember you. I forget them sometimes when they're over.” The lights of the room begin flickering on and off, and Izaya puts his hands over his ears. “Go away!” he shouts towards the corner of the room.

“What's happening? Who's doing this?” Shizuo asks, feeling like he should protect this child version of his greatest enemy. The Izaya before him is just a kid, and Shizuo doesn't know how or why, but he can feel how incredibly lonely Izaya is.

“A ghost,” Izaya replies, and he narrows his eyes at Shizuo as if daring him to argue. “I see them all the time, and they want me to help them, but I don't know how. They won't listen to me when I say that.”

“Where are your parents?”

Izaya shrugs, and Shizuo feels rage boiling inside him. He remembers hearing from Shinra once that Izaya's parents were never around, that Izaya raised the twins practically on his own. Mairu and Kururi are weird, certainly, and Shizuo isn't fond of the idea of letting them anywhere near his own brother, but he think they're good kids, all things considered, especially if this is how they were raised.

“My grandparents are around,” Izaya says, seeming to read Shizuo's thoughts. “Or, they will be tomorrow. They already came by today to bring food.”

“That's so fucked up,” Shizuo blurts, and to his surprise, Izaya smiles.

“My parents aren't bad people. They're incredibly busy, and they weren't expecting to have more kids.” Izaya looks to the the twins, who are watching him, still warbling even though the lights have stopped flickering for now. Their little hands are reaching towards him through the bars of their cribs. “As for my grandparents, they're not in great health. They can't do much to help aside from cooking and checking in every now and then.”

“Sounds like a lot of excuses,” Shizuo says, thinking of his own family. His mother never even wanted to leave their family overnight, much less weeks, months at a time. Izaya shrugs again.

“Maybe so. It doesn't matter much to me anymore. They never listened to me even when they were here.” Izaya studies Shizuo for a moment. “Your mind is—“

“Loud, yeah. You keep saying that.”

“It's more than that! It's like static and whirlwind mixed together. I can feel you wanting me out of your head, but you keep letting me back in, pulling me in, really. It's like you want me to hear you.”

“I don't,” Shizuo says flatly. “How are you doing any of this, anyway? I'm not anywhere near you in the present right now. Why are we sharing the same dream?”

“How should I know? I was born with this power, but I don't know how to use it all yet,” Izaya says, and Shizuo frowns at him, wants to bring up the future and all the terrible things Izaya will do once he does master his stupid power, but it would be pointless. This Izaya has no idea of the future, probably isn't even real. This is a dream, probably, Shizuo's brain attempting to humanize the flea.

“You called me a witch,” Izaya murmurs, more to himself than to Shizuo.

“That's what you call yourself,” Shizuo says.

“I've never had a word for it before. I just knew I was...different. People romanticize it, you know, being different from everyone else. Standing out. Maybe for a while, it was fun. But lately I'm like an island in myself, and every day the distance to the mainland grows.” Izaya pauses, as if hearing himself say so out loud is illuminating in some way. “I'm being dramatic, aren't I? I didn't mean to say any of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Shizuo finds himself saying. He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't really have to. He can feel Izaya in his head, like a prickle on the edges of his subconscious.

“Why aren't we friends?” Izaya asks, and the question is so earnest, so innocent, that Shizuo finds himself bolting upright in his bed, jerked back into wakefulness.

“Fuck these fucking dreams,” he hisses, rolling over to check his phone. It's a little after seven in the morning, an hour before his alarm was set to go off. He's already got a message from Vorona, telling him she's looking forward to their outing.

He doesn't know why he can't get Izaya's face out of his mind.

***

Shizuo's second date with Vorona goes well.

They meet at Sunshine 60, have some drinks with their food. Conversation comes easier this time, and there's hardly any silence between them. While they walk, Shizuo finds her hand in his, and he doesn't hate it. Her hand is soft, but not too soft. She has the same callused hands he does, and it reminds him that she can take care of herself, that she can handle him, so long as he's careful to remain human around her.

He drank enough to have a little bit of a buzz going as they make their way up towards the observatory. Vorona says she hasn't seen it yet, and wants to. It reminds Shizuo that this is the sort of thing people who visit Ikebukuro find exciting, while it remains mundane to the locals. He trails after her as they walk, and he doesn't know why he notices a familiar face off to the side, outside a comic book store, but he does notice, and he stops in his tracks. Vorona looks up at him questioningly.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Hey, I'll meet you up there. I need to ask someone something really quick.”

Vorona studies him. “Affirmative. I will go on ahead.”

Shizuo watches her go for a moment, and then he turns back to the comic book store, making his way through the crowd. A redheaded man is leaning against the building, his arms crossed. He grins up at Shizuo when he notices his approach.

“Well, well. Heiwajima Shizuo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I don't remember your name,” Shizuo says bluntly, and the man laughs.

“Yeah, why would you? I'm sure you've got more pressing things to manage these days. You can call me Akabayashi, if you bother to remember it.”

Shizuo recognizes him from all that shit with Akane. Akabayashi also was there with the twins that day at the dojo, Vorona's first day of work.

“You know, don't you?” Shizuo asks, keeping his voice low. Akabayashi raises an eyebrow.

“You'll have to be more specific.”

“Cut the shit. You know what I am, and you know who did it. I wanna know why.”

“Well, let's see,” Akabayashi says, scratching his chin. “As I recall, you don't keep your head down much. In fact, you've gotten involved in plenty of things you shouldn't have been. You know that already, so your pressing question really is who, isn't it?”

“I already know Izaya ordered it. I wanna know who it was that did the dirty work.” Shizuo glowers at Akabayashi, hating how amused the man seems. He's not scared of Shizuo in the least. It's refreshing, but it's also irritating.

“Don't make assumptions that we take orders from the likes of that brat. Anyway, yeah, I know who did it, and so would you, if you saw him. He's laying low for now, under orders. I can't give you a name. You understand.”

“Bullshit, I do!” Shizuo snaps, and he lifts Akabayashi up by the collar of his suit. “Give me a name, dammit! It's the least you fuckers can do after you all stood back and let me turn into this— thing!”

“This is the problem with youngsters like you. You're too emotional. It's okay, kid, I was like that before, too, but this city has a way of beating passion right out of you.” Akabayashi doesn't seems concerned at all, even as his feet dangle. In fact, he looks like he's having a blast. “You'll know in due time. A little patience would do you good.”

“It's been seven months,” Shizuo says, offended at the idea he hasn't been too patient already.

“And? What do you want, a medal?”

“You fucker—“

“They had it! They really had it!” A small, excited voice says, and Shizuo finds himself looking down into the wide eyes of Awakusu Akane. She's carrying a bag from the store, clearly over the moon about her purchase.

“I'm glad,” Akabayashi says. “You can tell me all about that story of yours while we get lunch.”

“Shizuo-san...” Akane whimpers, and Shizuo releases Akabayashi. “You're not here to fight, right?”

“I was thinking about it,” Shizuo admits, “but I decided against it.”

“I'm not ready to fight you yet!” Akane says, her voice more determined now. “But I will be! I'm trying extra hard at the dojo, and I can challenge you soon!”

“I look forward to it. Just don't work too hard, okay? Getting strong means taking it easy sometimes, too,” Shizuo says, putting a hand on her head.

“Right! I'll do my best!”

“Anything else, or can I take the little miss to our lunch date?” Akabayashi asks, and Shizuo glares at him.

“I'll ask you again later.”

“Go for it! Maybe I'll give you an answer. Maybe you could ask that information broker friend of yours, too.” Akabayashi turns on his heel, pulling Akane along with him with one hand, his cane in the other. “Or then again, steer clear of that one. He's not right in the head.”

“Bye, Shizuo-san!”

Shizuo growls after them, and then he goes to meet Vorona. Akabayashi was right; Shizuo does have more pressing things to worry about.

***

After parting ways with Vorona at the train station again, Shizuo considers going to see Shinra and asking about the dreams he's been having, but he decides he'll do it later. He had a good day, and he doesn't want Shinra dampening it with his overstepping. Especially while Shizuo has something else even more terrible to deal with.

He knocks, and it takes a few moments for the door to open. Finally, an irate brunette appears, glaring at Shizuo.

“What do you want now?” she asks, and her voice sounds accusatory, as if Shizuo is interrupting more than just her current peace.

“I'm here to see Izaya,” Shizuo says, and she rolls her eyes.

“I didn't think you were here for anything else. Come in, I guess.” She steps to the side, allowing Shizuo inside. He doesn't see Izaya anywhere.

“He left something for you,” she says, moving to the corner. She emerges with a large box in her arms, and she shuffles towards Shizuo, letting him take it from her. “He said he knew you were coming, and that he didn't want to see you.”

“Of course,” Shizuo spits, taking the box that's filled with his potions. He doesn't know why he expected to see Izaya here, why he's disappointed he didn't.

“Please tell me you didn't give him anything to use against you,” the woman says. Shizuo frowns at her.

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Is that really relevant? I'm your mortal enemy's secretary, and I also hate him. Watching him be angry about you is one of my few joys in life.”

“That's pathetic,” Shizuo says, feeling a vindictive sort of satisfaction when her lip curls at him.

“I wasn't looking for your approval. Answer my question.”

“Where is Izaya?” Shizuo asks, bypassing her and her scrutiny.

“Does it matter? Out. I thought you'd be happy. Now answer me, dammit. What's he holding over your head? Is it worth seeing him so frequently? To my understanding, the two of you only crossed paths before by accident, and it was always antagonistic.”

“If you hate him so much, you shouldn't work for him,” Shizuo snaps, disliking her and her unwanted insight into his life. “You seem capable enough to handle yourself. What do you need him for?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says flatly, and he scoffs.

“Yeah? Well, I asked you first. The thing is, we both know what we're getting from him, right? And neither of us feel the need to share it with anyone else.”

“Whatever. Sue me for wondering. I won't take pity on you again.”

Shizuo is all but shoved from the apartment, the box of potion vials in his arms. He doesn't like anything about the way he feels, but he trudges home, his stomach in knots the entire way. Not seeing Izaya feels like an omen of sorts, like a harbinger of things to come.

***

He dreams later, first of nothing, and then of that same room, of the twins screaming in their cribs, and Izaya crying out in fear. It seems like the slate has been wiped clean, like this version of Izaya never spoke to any version of Shizuo. But that's accurate, isn't it? This is all pretend. It's all just a dream.

“Why do you keep coming back here?” Izaya's voice asks, and when Shizuo meets his eyes, it's the present version of Izaya. He's standing in the corner, right beside his past self, who doesn't seem to be able to see either of them now.

“I don't know,” Shizuo says. He's not a kid this time. He's towering over Izaya, but of course Izaya isn't backing down. “How are you doing this?”

“Me?” Izaya asks, incredulous. “How am I doing what? You're the one spying on my past.”

“I'm not the one with magic!” Shizuo roars. “Don't act like I'm invading your privacy, not when you're the one who's always linking us. It's not my fault that it goes both ways.”

Izaya pales, as if this thought only just occurred to him. He recovers quickly, schooling his features, turning away from Shizuo in a show of nonchalance.

“You got what you wanted from me. You got your potions, the ones that keep you so fucking tame—“

“Who are you to tell me what I want?” Shizuo interjects. “I never wanted to deal with you at all, especially so frequently. And even then, you couldn't leave well enough alone, right? You had to start haunting my dreams, too.”

When their eyes meet again, Shizuo is filled with a sudden onslaught of understanding, thoughts he knows aren't his own. Izaya isn't doing this on purpose, doesn't know how it keeps happening, doesn't like it any more than Shizuo does. Shizuo's mind is almost impossible for Izaya to pull away from, like a black hole, and even with Izaya trying to pull back, Shizuo doesn't seem to be allowing it. In fact, Shizuo is strengthening the link by being here, by interacting with Izaya's past. He's the one pulling Izaya in, like a child in desperate need of company.

“That's not true,” Shizuo growls, not appreciating Izaya's comparison. He can't help looking over to the younger version of Izaya, who is still crying pitifully. Shizuo feels the need to protect him from his future self's callous words, too, even if he can't seem to hear anything other than the twins and the ghost terrorizing them.

“In case you haven't noticed, I have been leaving you alone. I'm incredibly busy, and every time I actually manage to sleep, here you are, poking around. Snooping. Don't you have better things to do, like entertain that Matryoshka doll of yours?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo whirls back to face him, his mouth a twisted snarl of rage.

“Don't you fucking talk to me about her.”

“Don't talk to me at all. Get the fuck out!” Izaya shouts, and the door behind Shizuo opens. He's yanked backwards by an incredible force, and he falls through the doorway. He keeps falling through black nothingness, images flashing before his eyes as he does, memories he knows aren't his own. He tries to grab onto them, tries to make sense of any of them, but he can't. They're gone as soon as they appear.

Right before he hits whatever ground is below, he jerks awake, finds he's twisted himself into his sheets and managed to topple over into the floor. Cursing, he untangles himself, and he thinks back to the dream, at least, the parts of it he can remember. The image of a young, nervous Izaya talking to older men in fine suits is at the forefront of his mind.

Miles away, he knows Izaya is awake, too.

[bangtansbun]

Endgame || End This Way

pairing: jeongguk x f. reader

genre: just sad :(

word count: 2,011

warnings: mentions of hypothetical alcohol use, just grab the tissues

a/n: and this is it. the last part (part 19) of past yn and guk. in a way, i feel really sad leaving these sweet babies behind, but there’s so much to come (some good things too!!)

It’s the morning of your graduation ceremony. You knew this day was coming and you should be feeling excited, right?? Finally getting to leave the hell that is high school and move on to bigger and better things. But you’re not excited. You’re not even the tiniest bit happy. The reason being that you won’t be celebrating this momentous day with your best friend and love of your life.

You’d both dreamt of this day. You’d planned to have an innocent sleepover with movies, popcorn, sweets, and maybe the tiniest bit of alcohol mixed in with your soft drink of choice (sprite for you, coke for him) to celebrate. You’d wake up together, not even hungover because neither of you like to go past tipsy, and have a large breakfast courtesy of your wonderful mom. You’d get ready together and then head for the ceremony. It would be long and boring but you two would entertain each other by making faces at one another through the rows of chairs. You’d both have your names called, being handed over that coveted diploma, and the rest of the day would be filled with graduation parties and laughter.

That wouldn’t be the case, though. Instead, you’d woken up alone, sent a text to Guk asking if you’d be able to see him today (even though you knew it would likely go unanswered), and ate your mom’s delicious breakfast sadly. You really weren’t sure if you’d get to talk to him at all today, but you still held out hope.

Your mom helped you get ready for your walk across the stage, but your sadness was palpable. You tried to keep your feelings at bay, though, because you knew this day would be much worse for Guk than it would be for you.

It was three weeks ago that you got the call. It was just past five in the morning, and you knew the saying: bad news was the only news that couldn’t wait until morning. You picked up the phone with dread, already knowing what it would be about.

“She’s gone.”

Within seconds you had leapt out of bed, threw on your hard-sole slippers and went straight to his house. Guk was inconsolable, understandably so. His whole world came to a stop that day and there was nothing you could do to help. Sure, you could be there for him, but that didn’t change the fact that is mom was now gone and his family forever changed.

The funeral was just a few days later, on the weekend and you had never felt so sad in your life. His family was basically like your own. You can’t remember your childhood without his mom in it - always feeding you guys snacks or making you picnics in his back yard. Jeongguk was brave, though. He kept it together for the most part and you had never been so in awe of him. You knew he’d break down later, in the quiet of his bedroom, but for now he needed to be strong for his dad.

To your surprise, Guk asked to stay the night with you that night. He said he couldn’t bear to be in his house after everything that day. People were still there from after the funeral and he just wanted some peace and quiet. The couldn’t stand the thought of having to hear one more “I’m so sorry about your mom” or have to stomach the food provided after the funeral (how could anyone eat after that??). You held him in the dark and he cried into your chest. Long drawn out sobs, the kind that can only come from someone in mourning. The two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, Guk’s cheeks stained with tears as his breathing evened out. You were glad you could do something, anything for him that night.

When you woke up the next morning he was gone already. He’d left a post-it note on your desk thanking you for the night before, and that was the last you’d heard from him despite your attempts to reach out. You understood for the most part. You couldn’t imagine losing your mom at such an early age and you didn’t want to push him. He needed his time to heal and you’d give him that, save for a few texts here and there just so he knows you’re still thinking about him. Still doesn’t change how much you miss him.

You arrived at school with your family and you felt utterly lost once they left you to find their seats in the audience. You were supposed to be doing this with Guk and now you had to figure it all out on your own. It made you feel sad, but even sadder for him because he’s having to do it all alone too.

You desperately wanted to find him, even if he didn’t respond to your text this morning. You wanted to see him, hold his hand, and have him know you were there even if he tried to distance himself. You knew he didn’t mean to, Guk had always been sensitive and he tended to shutdown when wrought with emotion.  

You showered the crowd of students all in the same outfit. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Your head kept whirling around in every direction, searching with no luck to find your love. Did he even come? you thought to yourself. He doesn’t technically have to walk across the stage to graduate. They could just mail his diploma to him. Maybe he just decided not to show up, the event too much for him without his mom to be here. That honestly made a lot of sense to you. You probably wouldn’t have come either if you were in his situation. Unfortunately for you, the announcement was made that you’d have to take your seats before you were able to find him.

You sadly trudged to your spot, but you felt a tiny flicker of happiness when you saw Guk sat in his seat. This was good. You’d easily be able to get to him after the ceremony now that you knew where he was. He turned around in his seat and made eye contact with you. You gave him a wave and a weak smile appeared on his face. He was definitely sad. You could tell that much for sure. All the signs were there in the way his smile was barely there, his eyes not creasing like they normally do, a glassy quality to them now.

The ceremony was long and boring, just as you expected it to be. You were beyond ready when they had gotten through all of the formalities and started actually calling out names.

You’d never yelled louder than you did when they called Jeongguk’s name. Jeon Jeongguk, they announced. He stood proud and tall as he walked across and received his diploma. A firm handshake given to the head of your school and then he took his seat once again as the other students’ names were called.

Soon enough, your own name was called and you felt a wash of overwhelm come over you. High school was over and your life was about to become so different. Again, you were supposed to be happy, but you weren’t prepared  for the future and you certainly weren’t prepared for one without Guk.

The head of your school gave a final speech, you all stood up and cheered, this was it. You quickly made your way to where Guk was seated, hoping he hadn’t already bolted. Amazement written all over your face when you finally spot him.

He saw you, and although you expected him to ignore you and run, he didn’t. He waited patiently for you to make your way through the crowd.

“Hey,” you say to him, feeling unsure of what to say in this moment. You really didn’t care what was said, you just wanted to be with him. “Hi,” he supplies back to you. You both stand there awkwardly for a moment, and then he surprises you by bringing you in for a tight hug. You’re quick to wrap your arms around him. Taking in his clean, fresh linen scent one more time. Wanting to commit it to memory just in case. It takes you a moment to realize he’s started crying, but you just continue to hold him. Soothing circles being rubbed into his back.

“I’m so sorry,” he says to you, his voice sounding wet. You know what he means even without context. He’s apologizing for not answering you back and practically not seeing you at all. “No, don’t be sorry. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” you try to comfort him. Then, “I miss her so much.” That absolutely breaks your heart. Lost for words, you give him a comforting squeeze.

He doesn’t let go for a while, but when he does his face devastates you. You wish you could change everything, take all of the pain away, make everything better. Anything to not have to see him like this. But you know you can’t do that.

“You’re leaving soon aren’t you?” he asks you. You both had to get comfortable with the idea that you wouldn’t be going to college together anymore, therefore seeing less and less of each other. You would be leaving in a week to get settled in your apartment near campus and start your summer job there. You nod your head, not wanting to say a word because that would make it too real. “I don’t want you to leave.” God, you would drop everything for him if you could. You would risk it all for him if it wasn’t for the fact that your parents already took out student loans for you to go to the school of your choice. You feel tears starting to well in your eyes. Your emotions starting to get the better of you. “I’ll visit you as much as you want. Just tell me,” you try to reassure him with a shaky voice. A small smile creeps on to his face at that.

“Will you be able to make it to my graduation party?” You knew he had decided not to have one, but your parents insisted that you did and you hoped he’d come. “I’m not sure, I was thinking of just having a quiet dinner out with my dad. This is hard for him too.” You smile at him in understanding. However, the realization that this might be one of the last times you see him hits you like a truck. “Well, if you need anything tonight, let me know.” He nods at you and brings you in for another hug. You finally let the tears fall and he pulls you tights against him when he realizes you’re crying. Let’s you nuzzle into his chest. He gives a kiss to the top of your head, “I love you.” You sniffle before pulling away from him, “I love you too.” He knows the weight behind this moment just as much as you do, but he knows you have to part ways now, your families waiting for both of you. He gives you another kiss, but to your cheek this time and he walks away. Just like the night he told you about his mom, not looking back because he doesn’t think he’d be able to walk away from you if he saw your face again.

Neither of you wanted it to end this way.

The rest of your day should have been filled with party after graduation party, excitement, and laughter. Instead, it’s filled with fake smiles, moments of crying in the bathroom between saying “hi” to guests, and dread enveloping you as the day comes to an end and you have to start packing up your things. The week would come and go quickly and soon enough you’d be hours away from your hometown and the love of your life. This was it.

taglist: @ggukkieland​ @hecticwonderer​ @kookiepout​ @koochiekoo​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @imluckybitches​ @madaboutjeon​ @mybiasforsure​ @thequeen-kat​ @betysotelo18​ @scentedsope​ @apollukee​ @nightapple4jk​ @xtrataerrestrial​ @peachthi​ @pimpnameyannie​

[dat-town]

bad attitude

Characters: boxer!Juyeon & You

Setting : your typical YA “bad boy” romance, inspired by his GenZ vid (and I kind of wanted to drop hints of the Ares & Aphrodite dynamic but I’m not sure I succeeded)

Summary: He looked like trouble walking on long legs. The kind of guy your parents would want you to stay away. And yet, not even the blood on his knuckles or his cold words biting like bullets can scare you away. Because Juyeon isn’t as bad as he thinks he is.

Warning: mentions of violence, implied sexual content and some guys not getting the hint to f*ck off

Words: 7k

You winced. 

You weren't even the one being hit and yet, the thud of punches soared through your whole body.

You'd never liked violence, not even fighting sports like this, and gosh, you regretted letting your best friend drag you with herself. Just because she had a crush on a boxer or MMA fighter or whatever, it didn't mean you had to support all her choices and out-of-character behaviour like paying a visit to a match. But she was determined and you were a good friend, so of course, you accompanied her. You wouldn't have let her go alone to this suspicious place called Dungeon probably filled with sweaty, muscly and aggressive guys. Although in reality, it was different from what you had imagined. A lot more professional and civilized for sure. But it didn't mean you liked it. At all. 

"Minjung-aaaah, how long do we have to stay here? Your guy has already beat someone," you whined because even though it felt as if you were out on a basketball match, still the witnessed violence, the blood splattered on the ground of the ring because of the gloveless fight and aggressive yelling from time to time made you feel uncomfortable in your skin.

"Until the end, silly, there's an after party we are invited to but come on, there's only one match left and I heard it's the most anticipated one," she tugged on your arm even acting cutely to convince you to stay a little more and even though you groaned, you stayed put. Oh the things you did for her, you thought but it was lovely to see her smile so bright.

"And now, the highlight of tonight... Let's applaud the current champion Leeeeee Juyeon and the challenger Kiiiiim Hongseok!" the announcer yelled into his mic and the audience roared. However, you paid more attention to the approaching, freshly-out-of-the-shower guy and kept nudging Minjung in the side, so she would notice him, too. She only did though when he arrived right next to you.

"Oh hey Sunwoo," she smiled at the redhead unconsciously playing with the banner in her hand that she had brought in support of the boy. You found her shy actions cute. 

"Hey girls, I'm glad you could make it," the fighter flashed a boyish smile at Minjung. Your friend had already spent nights telling you all about how much she liked the way his eyes sparkled or the way his lips tilted when he smiled, so even though you had never met the guy before, his appearance didn't shock you at all and in all honesty you thought they would have looked nice together. Also even though they were eyeing each other very obviously they engaged you in their small talk as well, so you didn't feel like a miserable third-wheel. 

"Juyeon is my friend and he is like really good," Sunwoo added when the match was about to start and he pointed at the guy wearing a white tank top and royal blue bandages around his knuckles. His ink black locks fell into his feline eyes and he really did look like a predator the way he circled around his competitor.

It was pretty high tension, everybody held their breath waiting for the first attack but it came so suddenly that you almost missed it. It was like a viper's strike: quick and deadly. The other guy stattered back, blood dripping from his mouth already. But then it got faster and more aggressive but you could tell it was the bloody faced one who started to lose his patience. There were hits and punches and you really didn't understand the pointing system no matter how Sunwoo kept narrating and explaining, but one thing you knew was that the match had come to an end of the match when the coal haired guy knocked out the other. Loud cheering erupted in the warehouse and the winner was awarded before the crowd started to dissolve. It was only then when you noticed how fast your heart hammered due to the adrenalin. You still didn't like it though.

"Imma get the guys but meet you there, girls," Sunwoo grinned at the two of you, and you have never seen Minjung so enamoured. She gushed all about him on your way to the nearby club and even when you got seated in a booth once you got yourself cocktails. She was in the middle of a self pep talk convincing herself to ask the guy out before the night ended when the guys showed up. Sunwoo, his roommate Chanhee whom you have also heard of, someone named Hyunjoon and Juyeon from the ring.

At first, you didn't recognize him. This time he wore blue jeans instead of sweattracks, a black shirt and a leather jacket over his lean biceps. One of his cheeks was puffy under his eyes and he had split lips but other than that, he looked unaffected by the fight before. That deadly glare was missing from his dark eyes as well. He merely looked a bit cold and uninterested. Even when Sunwoo took it upon himself to introduce everyone. He barely glanced in your direction, not even when your best friend found it necessary to tell everyone that you were modelling for a living beside university.

“My father told me to put my pretty face to some use,” you shrugged and you were glad when the guys moved on from the topic after a good laugh. Even though you had grown to love your job, as a model you faced quite a lot of prejudice about being nothing but a shallow beauty, so you didn't really like to talk about it. 

Throughout the evening Juyeon was quiet too but you couldn't help glancing his way a few times. He let others do the talking but the way he made sure to pour less alcohol into Hyunjoon's glass who was tipsy after a can of beer made you smile to yourself behind your cocktail.

At one point Minjung and Sunwoo left to dance and Hyunjoon managed to drag Chanhee along too, so you were left alone with 'the toughest guy of all' as Sunwoo jokingly called Juyeon earlier. He didn't look that scary now though.

"Does it hurt?" you pointed at his face which seemed to surprise him, not expecting you to speak up or at least not by bringing something like that up. 

"I've gotten used to it," he muttered while looking straight into your eyes, a pair of coal irises boring your yours and he just shrugged. 

"So it does," you hummed not really knowing what to do with his nonchalant behaviour. You weren't used to this. Some guys became bashful once they met you, some fanned over your beauty that always made your mother happy or even if they were more collected than that, you could always tell from their eyes that they were awed by your appearance at least a bit. But Juyeon? He didn't seem to care at all.

It was a relief, to be honest to not be put under the spotlight merely due to your pretty features. Sure, you earned good money thanks to your luck for having been born this way, so you shouldn't have complained but with being pretty came the expectations and everyone treated you like a doll and truth to tell, you wanted them to not only look but see you for real as well. Maybe that was why you were certain that the fighter had more to him as well but he wasn't an easy one to crack.

You asked how he knew Sunwoo (they went to the same gym), whether he felt pressured to keep his first place (he didn't care much about ranks, he just hated to lose) or whether he had always wanted to become some sort of athlete (that was merely what he was good at) and he kept giving curt answers. Yet, he didn't seem bothered by your questions, he jugged down his beer slowly in the meantime.

“I'm getting another round,” you proclaimed, getting up with a rum-flavoured smile on your rosy lips and you walked up to the counter to order another cocktail for you and beer for Juyeon. On the dance floor, you caught the vague image of Minjung and her boy, so you smiled and someone just had to be there to misunderstand…

“Like what you see, pretty? Want to join me for a drink?” Some guy at the counter directed his slurred question at you. You politely rejected his offer, telling him that you had company waiting for you but the guy didn't seem to understand your intent. Quite the opposite. “Oh come on! Are you trying to play hard to get? Don't be like this. Let oppa pour you a drink,” he cooed and unexpectedly grabbed you on the waist pulling you closer.

“Let go of me!” you whisper-yelled at the guy since you didn't want to earn pitying glances or draw too much attention. But it seemed like he didn't understand from simple, nice words.

So you were just about to threaten him by telling him he could get kicked out of the place for such harassment when someone grabbed the guy's wrist, prying it off you. You looked up surprised to see those wicked dark eyes back while rubbing your side where that douchebag had held you.

"She told you to leave her alone. Do you have problems with your hearing?" Juyeon asked through gritted teeth and his whole aura radiated power. You were surprised that the drunken guy dared to go against him but maybe it was due to liquid courage.

"What? Are you her boyfriend or what? Fuck off, dude." 

"It doesn't matter who I am, I can break your wrist nevertheless," Juyeon warned the guy but when he didn't listen, he indeed twisted his arm behind his back until he yelled for mercy.

"That's enough. Let's go," you put a hand over Juyeon's shoulder, feeling the tense muscles underneath, trying to reason that he shouldn't get into trouble. He shot you a glance, a displeased one but didn't object. He let go of the guy, who stumbled backwards.

Drinks long forgotten you let Juyeon lead you away from the crowd, a little further to the corridors and you felt strangely safe with the guy's big hand resting barely over the small of your back.

"Thank you," you whispered when you were away enough for it to be heard over the music. The guy didn't seem to expect such gratitude but he acknowledged it with a firm nod, hair falling ahead into his pitch dark eyes. 

"Do you want to go home?" he asked hoarsely and you gave it a thought. You didn't want to leave Minjung alone but she seemed to have good company and while you could have pretended being alright, not shaken up at all but one scene like this brought back many memories of other accidents and you just lost your party mood.

"Uhm yeah," you murmured and let Minjung know about your decision. Sunwoo also promised that he would make sure she got home safe and sound, then you got ready to leave. When you told Juyeon that you didn't mean to ruin his night and he shouldn't worry about you, he just shrugged.

“I needed an excuse to leave anyway. Let me walk you home.”

“You don't have to. I'm not a damsel in distress,” you protested immediately because even though you appreciated his concern, you also hated nothing more than being treated as weak. Even your steps halted once the fresh night air hit you in the face outside of the club.

“And I'm not a caveman,” Juyeon retorted and gosh, if it was his way of saying that he could act like a gentleman, it was pretty funny coming from him.

“Tells someone who beats people up for a living. Pretty Neandertal if you ask me,” you raised a brow challengingly but playful and it took a moment or two, him staring at you in disbelief, blinking before his lips trembled and his surprised chuckle morphed into a smile. The first genuine smile you had seen on him and wow, it was beautiful. The way his lips curled upwards and his eyes got narrow. Unlike his overall cold behaviour, it felt warm, it made your chest feel bubbly and hot.

“Fair point,” he noted but you didn't say a word when he walked next to you on your way to the bus stop. 

"Does it happen a lot?" he asked quietly at one point almost as if he wasn't sure he had the right to ask but you understood his reason. You weren't even fazed by that douche, that must have been suspicious.

"I have gotten used to it." 

"So it does," Juyeon mimicked (mocked?) your earlier words about his pained cheek.

“I work in an industry where things like this happen often. Don't worry. I'm a big girl, I can take care of guys who think with their dicks,” you claimed and the guy pressed his mouth into a firm line. He seemed a bit impressed by your attitude.

The rest of the walk and the bus ride was quiet. You didn't mind though, it wasn't the uncomfortable or awkward kind. It was an understanding one. Pretty nice.

“So that's me,” you said, pointing at the apartment block in which you shared your flat with Minjung. Juyeon looked around, alert eyes taking in the surroundings before acknowledging your answer with a nod. He really wasn't talkative and standing there, in front of the gates in all black, he reminded you of stray cats, careful and reckless all the same.

“I will see you around, I guess. Don't forget to put ice on that,” you pointed at his puffy cheek and he grinned at that. Hands deep in his pockets, leather jacket loose on his shoulder, he turned around once you set your foot inside the building.

But he didn't leave your thoughts that night.

Next day, you would have expected Minjung to be sleepy and whiny like she usually was in the mornings but she was already up by the time you went out to the kitchen. It should have been suspicious but you only realized the reason behind her giddiness a bit later.

“Soooo you and Juyeon...” she singsonged while putting coffee in front of you and you couldn't hide an amused smile in disbelief. Of course, she had to bring that up.

“There's no me and Juyeon.”

“Little birds told me you talked all night and he even walked you home,” your best friend continued making it sound like a cheap American movie because of her intonations.

“Well, I hope your birdies told you that nothing happened,” you snickered playfully because honestly, you didn't want her to get the wrong idea. It was unlikely that anything would come out of it and you weren't sure you wanted that anyway. Sure, Juyeon had this aura that attracted people and you had felt your blood rush when you had locked eyes. Not to mention that yesterday was probably just him being nice without any hidden intent. Actually you would have hated it a bit if he had expected anything in exchange for his unasked courtesy. So in your books, him walking you home and then leaving just like that was actually a good point.

It was Minjung who seemed disappointed.

“A shame. He's hot,” she pouted at which you raised a brow. She laughed it off. “What? Just because I like Sunwoo, I can admit that his friend is hot.”

“You know I don't care about looks and I'm not having casual sex with a friend of your future boyfriend,” you said firmly, tone playful by the end, wanting to get back on her because of her teasing. But it seemed like she took your words seriously as she corrected you almost nonchalantly. 

“Present tense.”

“What?” you blinked, hopeful.

“I mean I guess it's official. We are having a date on Sunday,” Minjung admitted with a bright smile, practically beaming and now you could understand where her sudden awakeness came from.

“Yah, and you waited this long to tell me!” You hit her on the back, demanding details while both of you minched on slightly overburnt toasts.

With Minjung and Sunwoo dating, their circles of friends hung out regularly and that meant that you met Juyeon quite often. The more you got to know him, the more you realized he was the actions over words type of guy and he never did anything halfassly. He was very competitive, you jokingly called him Neanderthal for that too but he didn't seem to mind. He merely got back at you, calling you princess whenever you complained about something and you wouldn't have admitted it out loud but even that kind of nickname sounded pleasing as it rolled off his tongue.

But the truth was, you were really different, it was obvious from the very beginning. You didn't need a very tipsy Hyunjoon to tell you that Juyeon used to be wary of you, thinking you were a brainless chick because 'who else would go for modelling'. It stinged despite knowing that he had changed his mind since.

“He has been a changed man since you talked,” Hyunjoon giggled, obviously exaggerating but you just nodded along, telling him it was time to go home.

To be honest, you weren't different either. Before meeting Sunwoo and his friends, you didn't have a too good of an opinion on those who earned money from fighting. You thought that those who did must have been aggressive muscle-heads outside of the ring as well.

But your differences weren't just about the stereotypes. From what you had gathered, Juyeon prefered action movies while you liked comedies. He always wore dark clothes while you had barely anything but light and pastel colours. He drank bitter beer while you opted for sweet cocktails. He was a night owl, you were a morning bird. His go-to coffee was black, yours was latte with whipped cream. He prefered silence, you on the other hand liked talks about nothing and everything. And even though you didn't know him too well, you used these differences to convince yourself that it wouldn't work out anyway so why bother trying. At least, according to Minjung you used these as excuses for not making a move.

It was nothing but a crush, it would go away, you told yourself but oh, you were just a butterfly drawn to the flame recklessly close.

After one of his matches, Juyeon was taking longer than usual, and the guys were pumped up over Sunwoo's glorious win, so they weren't too patient. You sent them off, promising to go after them with Juyeon because you didn't mind staying behind even if it meant missing out on the first few rounds of alcohol. But since Juyeon gave no sign of himself, you made your way backstage with the pass you got from Hyunjoon to check on him. Knocking on the changing room door, you could hear him grumbling something, probably thinking his visitor was one of the guys.

“It's me,” you mumbled as you opened the door but the sight that welcomed you made you freeze on the spot. The floor was scattered with green glass pieces, remnants of a soju bottle and there was blood too, carmine dots colouring the white tiles.

“What the he- What happened?” you looked around, shocked after you closed the door behind you. The place looked like there was a scrummage over there.

“Someone's a sore loser,” Juyeon muttered, anger dripping from his words while he held his hand under running water over the sink in the corner. The way he gritted his teeth you could easily tell that he was in pain. His blood coming from his lower arm and back of the hand painted the water pink, so you could understand why. You decided to pay more attention to that, rather than the asshole who attacked him off-ring.

“Do you have a first aid kit? I'll help,” you offered because bandaging his hurt hand with the other wouldn't have been easy, not even for someone who seemed experienced in taking care of his own injuries.

Juyeon looked suspicious though, at least at first, not getting how you would know anything about treating wounds.

“I have a licence, duh,” you rolled your eyes. You had been trained for emergency situations on the road, so a few cuts should have been okay. So when Juyeon sighed, you took it as a sign of agreement, so you gestured him to sit on the bench and after you got the first aid kit ready, you sat next to him.

As you took his hand in yours, you felt his rough knuckles and fingertips against your soft skin and neither that, nor his breathing against your ear didn't help you to focus. But somehow you still managed to do it, smoothing bandages over the wounds gently after you cleaned them and covered them with antiseptic. Luckily they weren't too deep but since it wasn't a simple papercut you were sure they would heal slower and wouldn't go away without a trace. 

“Done,” you announced with a smile on your face and pride in your voice, soothing a thumb over Juyeon’s wrist mindlessly as if you were trying to ease his tensed nerves. “It's going to leave an ugly scar though.”

“I'm not pretty anyway, so it doesn't matter,” the boxer muttered, probably used to having scars all over and you had this urge to tell him that even with purple and green bruises blooming all over him like flowers you would have found him beautiful.

Only when you looked up, searching for his night-like eyes on you,  you noticed how close you really were. Sitting side-by-side, knees barely but touching, you could see his facial expressions better than ever before and it would have been so easy to lean in and just… You weren't sure what but a moment was enough for you to feel overwhelmed under his intense stare.

It really wasn't that he was hot with his wide shoulders, strong arms, hands so big or with those feline eyes holding black holes and lips thin but attractive. What drew you in was the burning passion in his eyes, the way he looked when he was focused and that he seemingly didn't give a fuck about what others thought of him.

And now he was looking at your with unadulterated want and curiosity in his wild eyes and it shook you to the core.

“Isn't this the part you should tell me that I should see the other guy?” you whispered, playfully, not being able to get out what you really wanted to say about him being pretty no matter what he thought.

“You wouldn't like what you saw,” Juyeon said dryly with a twitch in the corner of his mouth. So the other guy did look worse, you concluded, and his answer reminded you how well he knew you already. And it was the answer to all your questions. So you just nodded, not asking more, not wanting to know what he had done. You gulped and turned your head away, ready to leave. Only if your legs didn't feel so heavy.

“The others must be getting worried, we shou-”

“I bet they aren't,” Juyeon interrupted you but let you pull your hand away, to fumble with the first aid kit, putting it away. “They know you are with me.”

He was right, of course they knew. They also knew that you were safe with him. So what were you afraid of? Not rejection, for sure. You knew both of you felt this kind of tingling tension between you. Then what? You weren't sure but you didn't want to be a coward anymore.

“Walk me home?” you asked, quiet and casual, no pressure but Juyeon just hummed as if it was natural. It was kind of déjavu except not really because when you reached your apartment complex, you didn't bid goodbye reminding him to change the bandage in the morning.

“Want to come upstairs? I have beer to make up for the loss of alcohol from tonight's missed party,” you offered instead and the suggestion was heavy in the air. Juyeon knew just as well that Minjung was out with the others and wouldn't make it back soon.

“Sure,” he muttered and followed you to the elevator. The tension was almost tangible by the time the flat's door closed shut behind you.

“So, this is us. Make yourself at home, I’ll bring the be-” you chattered after kicking off your high heels but on your way to the kitchen you were stopped by calloused fingers on your wrist. His touch was sudden but not rough at all and you felt electricity run through your veins because of this simple action.

“Where is this going? What do you really want, princess?” Juyeon asked, quietly, but each of his words echoed loudly in your head. And there it was, that nickname again, except this time it wasn't playful.

You turned back to him, locking eyes, finding that dark pair on you immediately. You could have told him many things, that you just wished to talk, that maybe you could watch a movie, but then in that very moment there was just one thing you really wanted.

“You,” you blurted out, not caring about the consequences, heart beating so loud you were afraid he would hear. But maybe he knew anyway with the way he kept holding on your arm, long fingers padding over your vein. At your answer, there was a flash of… something - maybe the crumble of his resolution or a spark of desire - in his eyes before he yanked you closer to him and crashed his mouth to yours.

His lips were a bit chapped and they moved feverishly against yours. He wasn't too gentle, didn't treat you like you were made of porcelain but you didn't even need or want that. It was just perfect. You ran your tongue along the wound on his lower lip and felt a rush of power and adrenaline at the way he grunted. Maybe you started to understand why he liked those things so much.

And you fell into that hole you swore you wouldn't: that night you mapped out his body, a history of past scars, lips following the marks while Juyeon left his own trace on you murmuring sweet names into your skin and kissed you like he could never get enough of you.

But of course, he could and you made it even easier as you pretended to be asleep when he walked out.

Next morning, your best friend came out of her room while you were in the middle of oversweetening your coffee to the point you would get sick of it. She seemed awfully cheerful but you just couldn't pretend that you felt the same after those haunting thoughts that didn't let you sleep almost all night. You could still smell the antiseptic mixed with sandalwood scent on your sheets.

“So you and Juyeon didn't join us yesterday,” Minjung singsonged but her knowing smile fell as soon as she saw your expression. “Oh sweetie, what happened?”

“Nothing new. I was just stupid,” you sighed but it didn't take long for the lavina inside you to burst out. “It's not like either of us promised anything. And the sex was so good, it's just… he left without saying anything or leaving a note. Gosh, I should have known better.” 

You had been emotionally involved from the very beginning and you weren't sure you could look him in the eye at the next friends gathering, so you were thinking of bailing out but in the end, with the encouragement of Minjung, you decided you weren't just some chick who would cry because of boys. So you went out accepting the drinks Chanhee generously brought all of you. You tried to avoid eye contact with Juyeon though, dancing with strangers but when you did catch his eyes on you, it made your insides boil.

“It's not polite to stare,” you told him when you got back to your table and he raised a brow at that, the smallest of smiles hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“What did you expect from a Neanderthal?”

At his joke, a chuckle threatened to leave your throat, lungs suddenly feeling light. You could do this, you thought, relaxed. So you talked: you asked about his wound, his next match, told him about your upcoming photoshoot and that one class in college that stressed you out. It was nice, so nice you felt your head spinning in his closeness and by the end of the night you found yourself pinned to the wall of a hidden corridor, lips bitten red by his eager kisses.

The thing was that it didn't happen only once. It seemed like you two were addicted to each other, hooked on the other's taste. You knew you should have stopped before getting hurt, before getting your heart broken, yet you couldn't because having him one way was still better than not having him at all.

Minjung got worried over time, asking whether you knew what you were doing and you were pretty sure Sunwoo knew about the situation, too. Otherwise his 'keeping you company while Minjung gets dressed' topic would have been utterly out of blue at the kitchen counter in your apartment.

“Juyeon… he isn't as confident as he seems. And he is pretty bad at talking about feelings stuff,” he blurted out while you were trying not to cry while cutting onions. The knife stopped in your hand, the prickling behind your eyes didn't.

“Uhm, sure.”

“Just in case you were wondering,” he shrugged and luckily dropped the topic soon, so you could go back to cooking. However, Sunwoo's wordless advice stuck with you, nudging you, knowing that you had to be the one who brings emotions. You thought that with time you would be more ready to do that but it was far from true.

It was the first time you went to the Dungeon alone. Minjung came down with something, so she was pretty much bedridden and no matter how much you insisted on staying home with her, making soup or something, she convinced you to cheer the boys on at their matches. So you were there, in the audience, alone, feeling a bit awkward and the same adrenaline mixed with awe and fear while you were watching Juyeon fight a guy taller and broader than him. He might have been the champion and you knew he was good but still, you got worried from time to time. Your heart still beat overtime when his hand was raised above his head.

You clapped proudly but this time you weren't planning on joining the afterparty, you only wanted to say hi to the guys and then leave to get some extra medicine for your best friend. However, before you could have left the warehouse, someone whom you would have never thought to see there came to your vision halfway to the exit.

“Wow, fancy seeing you here! I didn't know you like this kind of stuff,” the lanky figured guy grinned down at you and you gulped, trying to be polite about it. He was a photographer you once worked with and he was creepy as hell back then too, touching inappropriately and texting you until you blocked him not getting the sign to just stop.

“I came with friends,” you told him a half-lie and tried to pass him by with an apologizing smile but before you could have moved away from him, he grabbed your wrist, mouth pulled into a supposedly-charming smirk.

“What about getting a drink?”

“Let me go,” you attempted to pull your hand away but his grip only got firmer. Rough enough to make you wince.

“Come on, don't be like this. Or do you think you are too good for me just because you are pretty?” he spat and that was when you tossed him in the chest with your free hand even though you believed violence was never the answer. Using his loosened grip to your advantage and yanking your arm away, rubbing the bruise, you turned on your heels and started walking out in faster speed, taking out your phone just in case you had to call someone. But you weren't quick enough because the photographer guy caught up to you, calling you out on running away, calling you names you hated.

“Take your filthy hands off her,” a familiar voice snapped and you felt the photographer yanked away from you while yelling at the intruder:

“Who the fuck you think you are?”

“Someone to beat you to pulp if you keep treating her like a freaking doll,” Juyeon hissed at him, pushing him roughly to the wall of the corridor. Recognizing him the guy suddenly seemed to understand what no meant but the fear in his eyes didn't satisfy the boxer. It felt like déjavu: him coming to your rescue, his threat, the wickedness in his feline eyes, your urge to stop him before things would have gotten out of hand. “I will break your fingers if you touch her again.”

“Juyeon, stop. He isn't worth it,” you tried to pull him away by the arm but he shrugged your hand off, flashing you a glance that could have been only described as dangerous. You stumbled backwards momentarily frightened and seeing that, Juyeon's eyes immediately softened, hand loosening around the photographer's collar. He looked apologetic as he held his hand out for you with his palm up and for a moment, air got stuck in your lungs. You took his hand without thinking and let him lead you out of the place. 

You asked no questions, made no protests, just enjoyed his warm palm against yours. It was new, it was butterflies in your stomach-worthy. 

“My place is closer,” he said seemingly out of nowhere as if it was that simple but it wasn’t anything but that. It had been months since you knew him, since you started this something but you had never been at his place before.

“Okay,” you mumbled anyway.

He was right, he lived much closer than you, within walking distance and even though his place was smaller and quite messier than yours, you liked how cozy it was. He told you that his roommates would be back only later and brought you water to drink but you only tapped your fingers over the glass. 

To be honest, you didn't know where the two of you stood, and how to approach the new situation. You never talked about it and it was light and casual, playful while slowly getting to know each other out in the open but on the other hand, behind closed doors it was way more intimate than being simple friends. And things were even more fragile now having the same friends because what if you brought up dating and then he felt uncomfortable around you? Losing him and making it harder for your best friend was both something you feared.

"You're thinking too hard," Juyeon commented and you gulped.

You weren't surprised he noticed. You weren't exactly subtle but then again how he couldn't notice you slowly falling for him then? The way your eyes lingered? The way your touches were loving and gentle? The way you just couldn't get enough.

“Juyeon… What are we exactly?” you blurted out the question from the top of your mind and he sighed as if he knew what was coming but now that this question was out, you had nothing more to lose, no more of your pride.

“Good girls like you falling for bad boys like me only happen in cheesy books and movies. We both know it wouldn't work out," Juyeon told you, resigned and so sure of himself that it made your throat close up. He didn't even try to play the oblivious, he was so straightforward that it almost heart, ripping your heart out of your chest. But it wasn't an answer, it was a 'what you were not'.

“What the hell are you talking about? You are not a bad guy,” you objected right away because despite his borderline illegal job he was a good guy, loyal to his friends. But it seemed like his definition of bad was different.

“Then why did you flinch before? Do you think I could ever hit you, hurt you physically?” he asked and he was the one who looked hurt. You frantically shook your head trying to tell him that you were taken aback by the sheer anger that enveloped him in that moment but you weren't afraid of him. But Juyeon seemed unable to listen. “You know what? Doesn't matter because I don't fit into your perfect life anyway. Why would a pretty princess want an uneducated Neanderthal like me?”

You hissed, not liking the way he used your nicknames in such context and it made you desperate.

“Because I like you!”

Your voice echoed from the empty voice, it rang into your ears and there were the two of you, standing face to face, silent for a long minute.

"I don't think you like me. You like what I stand for: excitement, adrenalin, a bit of rule breaking. You will end up with a nice guy, princess, like you should," Juyeon sighed and him telling you what you should have done made you so mad. 

"Don't try to tell me what I feel!" You raised your voice, something you rarely even did and the fighter looked shocked through, eyes wide, running a hand through his inky strands.

“I don't want to hurt you and hurting people is the only thing I'm good at,” he told you and if the conversation wasn't so hurtful, you would have laughed at such a ridiculous claim.

“Bullshit. You care about your friends, you pay attention, you work hard, you are passionate and now, now you are telling me to find a nicer guy. Instead of breaking my heart to pieces by saying you don't think of me that way, that it was just sex for you, you say none of those things. Why?” you raised a brow at him, provocative, hanging on those last threads of hope and the boy stared back at you as if he was in the ring, ready to fight but unready at the same time. He was obviously torn and frustrated, knuckles turning white.

“Because it wouldn't be true,” he said almost as if he was giving up, letting the last of his walls fall and you needed a moment, heart hammering against your ribcage so loudly, to process this and what it meant. And when you finally understood, a chuckle rolled off your tongue in disbelief. You couldn’t believe that you were not just a coward but blind to see that what you two had wasn’t just being friends with something extra to him either.

You had never seen Juyeon so confused than in that moment, when in that heated moment of the fight you started laughing out loud, smile beaming and directed at him from the relief you felt.

“Good,” you hummed, acknowledging his answer. “Then stop acting so selfless. It doesn’t look good on you and anyway, Neanderthals used to fight for women, not let them go,” you tsked playfully and the guy couldn’t help a snort-like laughter either.

“You’re unbelievable,” he huffed out quite impressed and you couldn’t stop smiling. Not even when he added: “Please tell me you don’t wanna do cheesy shit Sunwoo and your friend do.”

“You mean the couple accessories and celebrating their 100th days together?” you raised a brow and just by the fact that it was his biggest worry now, you knew that you won. You pursued your lips, jokingly pondering on the possibilities. “Gosh, no… But I wouldn’t say no to cuddles tonight.”

“Oh so you wouldn’t say no...” Juyeon cracked a smile, dark cat-like eyes sparkling mischievously while a brow shot up to the middle of his forehead and hummed, excitement building up in your veins as he cornered you to the furniture behind you. “What else you wouldn’t say no to, princess?” he tilted his head and instead of giving him an answer verbally, you grabbed the collar of his tee and pulled him down for a searing kiss.

And cheesy or not, at his next match, you showed up with a banner, too. Get them, Neanderthal!