#like I don’t even feel tired after all that

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[joemama-2]

it’s late at night. he’s already situated on the bed, seeing you come into the room with unkempt hair, you shirt has splotches of dried milk and your movements are slow. tired.

why wouldn’t you be?

an energetic three year old who’s just like his father is hard to maintain. though you wouldn’t trade it for the world. “come here, baby.” he pats his lap, grinning softly.

you look over from where you’re taking off your jewelry for the day, in attempt to get ready for your nightly shower. “hm? for what?”

his eyes follow your every movement, patting his lap once more. “you know exactly why. cmon, daddy needs some stress relief.”

the laugh you let out causes his face to soften, admiring you in a way that’s reserved solely for his wife, for the mother of his son. “i thought we agreed you couldn’t call yourself that anymore.”

he adjusts himself when he sees you come over, crawling on the bed to situate yourself in a straddling position over his hips. his hands fall into place on the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on the small patch of skin that shows when your shirt lifts up. “you did. i didn’t.”

“it’s cringey.”

“so?”

you huff, eyes rolling. he dips his head forward into the crook of your neck, planting a trail of warm kisses. “satoru, are you sure?”

“are you sure?” he asks, voice muffled by your skin. “i just want to pamper my wife after a long day, can’t i do that?”

“i feel hideous right now.”

he tips his head back, bright eyes staring back at you with an intensity you’ve come to associate with. the kind of intensity that lets you know whatever he says—he means it. “hideous? what did i say before, huh? i said don’t even think about saying stupid stuff like that again. and look at you now.”

your lips downturn. “don’t say that just to make me feel better.”

“i’m not,” he places a firm kiss to your lips. “you look beautiful every day, every second of the day. but you look especially gorgeous right now.”

you narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. “why right now?”

satoru’s lips quirk into a sly grin, his thumbs still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. "because right now, I see my whole world in front of me. the woman who gave me everything I could ever want—a family, a home, a reason to come back every single day.”

the weight of his words presses against the exhaustion hanging over you. it’s not just flattery. it’s raw and genuine, just like him, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. “you’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“and you’re so heavenly,” his grin widens, leaning in closer until your noses almost touch. “but you love my cheesiness, don’t you? admit it.”

your lips twitch, a small smile breaking through despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. “maybe I do.”

“there it is,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if he’s handling something fragile. “that smile’s all I need to get through anything.”

the words wrap around your tired soul like a warm blanket. and for a moment, the weight of the day fades, replaced by the solid, steady presence of him—your husband, your partner, the man who never fails to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

you sigh, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong.” his voice is firm, his hands steady as they pull you just a little closer, subtly rubbing you against his clothed cock. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

and in that quiet, intimate moment, with the world outside fading into irrelevance, you believe him.

"now let me pamper you like I promised." he switches positions, hovering above you as you lay on your back. leaning down to raise the hem of your shirt, trailing sweet kisses and licks against your stomach—heading further south. your hips raise slightly as he discards your lounge pants, breath hitching in anticipation. hand running down through the streaks of his white hair, he smiles at the sight of your pussy hidden behind the grandma underwear you adorn.

hot breath tickling your core that leaves you almost jerking upwards for more. he kisses your clit through the loose fabric. “besides, mommy needs her fix too, doesn’t she?”

[nor-ay]

Our first masquerade ball - (unrequited love story) 

Shadow Milk Cookie thinks that you are... Odd. Different, if you will. It’s in the way you roll your eyes at White Lily Cookie, in the harsh tone that slips out when you find someone annoying, or in the way that you always seem to be out of place. But don’t get him wrong; he certainly enjoys that. He thinks that you have great potential to be his right hand. He just needs to give you a little push on the right path. Sweet talks to you a little until he gets in your good graces and WHAM, controls you like a puppet. It's a win-win situation; he gets to have you on his team and breaks your friend's spirit. 

At least, that is what he initially thought, but that changes when you accept his gift and lie to your supposed friends. You lie to Pure Vanilla Cookie, and that has him clapping and laughing like a king entertained by the best jester there is in his kingdom. He almost can’t believe it! There is no need for him to break your perception of Pure Vanilla Cookie or the nature of Cookies. You already have resentment towards them. 

… 

You think that Shadow Milk Cookie is testing you. That has to be the only explanation for the gifts and fever dream. It’s not like it bothers you, but when you look at Pure Vanilla Cookie, you feel guilt growing and wrapping itself around you. He’s not deserving of this whole situation… Shaking your head, you try to push all these thoughts away. You’re not evil—

Apple Faerie Cookie’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Cookies! Let’s go to the top of the Spire!” 

“I sincerely hope we’ll find what we’re looking for!” You find Wizard Cookie’s reply relatable. You’re tired too. And desperately wanting to get out.

“I bet you will! Now, shall we?” 

“Um…you guys can go ahead, I have to go, I mean, I forgot something.” You hate how your voice sounds so suspicious! Cringing at yourself, you try to smile. 

GingerBrave is looking at you strangely, and Pure Vanilla Cookie is unusually silent. Strawberry Cookie is the one to break the silence. “Really…? Are you sure?” 

“Yeah! I mean, what's wrong? I’m sure you all can live without me for a bit, right?” You try to laugh, but it sounds forced. When did you become so awkward around…your friends? 

Wizard Cookie frowns “Well, the way you—“ 

“All right! [Name] Cookie, I trust you; I’m sure you’re going to do something helpful! Just be careful.” GingerBrave without realizing it, saves you from being interrogated. And again, your lungs fill with guilt. You find it harder to breathe and the smile on your face falters. You’re not evil. 

“Can you not—ugh, never mind.” Wizard Cookie gives up. And you internally thank the witches for it. 

“Right. Thank you. And- please…be careful on your journey.” Ah, this is what you’re doing now. You don’t feel part of them. You never did. Not even with the five ancient heroes. You were always more of a confidant. Hearing Pure Vanilla’s worries, comforting White Lily Cookie after discovering her other half. Playing along with Golden Cheese Cookie, helping out Dark Cacao Cookie and Holyberry Cookie with their tasks. You never felt like you belonged. And so you grew resentful. 

You turn around and go in the opposite direction. Silence is the only thing you hear while going down the stairs, and you have to blink quickly to stop the tears from falling. You were not lying before when you said that you forgot something. When you arrive at the same spot where you woke up hours ago, the doll is still there. Sitting down, you pick up the mini-you and hug it tightly. Closing your eyes, you confess to no one. “I don’t know what to do… I miss when things used to be easy… I don’t want to hurt them. I’m just, so so so sick and tired of the same things over and over again…it’s like I’m trapped in a loop.” 

…

You don’t know how long it’s been since you parted ways with GingerBrave and company. But, unexpectedly, the doll in your arms starts moving on its own. So you let it go, waiting for its next move. 

Clap

A Colombina mask appears in front of you. It’s beautiful. You smile, thinking it’s a bit ironic. Perhaps even mocking that he gives you a mask. Is this his way of telling you that you’re two-faced? 

Nevertheless, you still put on the mask and follow the doll through some large hallways. Arriving at a luxurious ballroom. “How did we not see this?” You ask, completely in awe. The tiles on the floor are so white that you can see yourself reflected on them.

“Well… I had it hidden, of course; did ya forget that you’re in my domain, mhm?” It takes you a second for your brain to register who answered. 

“S-Shadow Milk Cookie!?” 

“Awe…are you really that surprised to see me? Well? Go ahead!” You notice how he’s also wearing a mask similar to yours. 

“Uh…ah-“ You don’t know what to say. Sweat begins to collect on your forehead. You begin to panic. You have to say something!! But, what can you say that he doesn’t know already?

Before you can think of anything to say, you hear Shadow Milk Cookie groan, as if annoyed. “Ughh right, I’m going too fast, this is a masquerade ball, you’re not supposed to know who I am.” 

“O-kay, let's start over!” You watch dumbfounded as he claps twice and the ballroom fills with different puppets who are dancing and talking to each other. 

You watch all this and can’t help but laugh, and, oh, it feels so freeing to be able to be as loud as you want. Everything is so out of the blue that you just can’t help it. Shadow Milk Cookie seems to be interested in what is making you laugh so much. “I’m sorry…this just doesn’t make any sense, and I love it.” 

He smiles, seeming pleased. “Now, THIS is the type of audience that I like! Alrighty! Let's get to it.” He closes the distance and takes your hand. He runs cold, you shiver at the contact.

You feel relaxed, and that should make you worry, but, as Shadow Milk Cookie gives you a twirl and spins you around the ballroom, you can’t. The giggles don’t seem to stop coming out and your eyes are all teary from all the laughter. Your hands are tightly grasping his shoulders and it doesn’t surprise you how agile he’s on his feet. It’s so easy to let him guide you. 

“Awww look at you! You’re enjoying yourself so so so much! Aren’t you going to ask me where are your frieeends?” 

“Well…,” you start—

“Oh, wait, WAIT, don’t tell me! You finally realize that it’s not with them that you belong? Especially that dreadfully, painfully, unbearably Pure Vanilla Cookie?” You can’t fully read the tone in his voice; it seems playful, but the hate he has for them inevitably seeps in. 

“That’s right,” Your smile wavers as you revert to your natural state of being. “It took me a long time, but… I’ve finally understood who I am and what I want.” A sudden bravery fills your heart as you finally ask him- “Please, take me with you!” You surprise yourself by the loudness of your voice.

Have you always been that desperate to escape your life?

“…” His eyes blink several times and it feels like the whole ballroom has grown silent. You start to feel self-conscious and—

His laugh fills the whole ballroom, and in just a second, Shadow Milk Cookie dips your body back dramatically. You grip onto him like a lifesaver and- and you’re out of breath. “Perfect,” you hear him say. His voice is lower than you’ve ever heard. “Alright, since you asked so nicely…you’re with me now!” 

“Huh, so…”

“Oops, looks like I have to go, feel free to explore my humble domain, hehe!” 

He’s gone in the blink of an eye. All the puppets that were dancing vanished too, all left behind in the ballroom was the mini-you doll and your racing heart. 

“…Did he lose track of time?”

Okay!! I actually struggled a bit with the dialogue. In my mind, there were so many different things about what Shadow Milk would say in certain situations! But, I’m happy about how it turned out. I hope you enjoyed it too!! AND, this is important, the story is going to be on hold until we get episode 8 of Beast-Yeast. It’s not like I can’t improvise, but if I continue, and then they release ep 8, I know that I’ll end up rewriting everything, and I don’t want to do that, to be honest. 

Besides that, I’m already thinking of writing Shadow Milk x reader with a trope that I really enjoy!! Orr some headcanons (maybe nsfw, still unsure about that).

@notboomm @fyodors-belovedxoxo

[fear-is-truth]

dare i say ur the best squid game writer?? the namgyu hcs was def the most accurate depiction of his character ive seen ! showed his insecurities so well. chefs kiss. speakinggg of if ur taking requests from him. what abt reader finally breaking up w him? like tired of all the toxicity. how would he react?

BREAKING UP WITH NAM-GYU / PLAYER 124

a/n. omg tysm for the kind words !! i loved the idea for your request, and i hope i did it justice ! thank you again for trusting me with it ♡

at first, nam-gyu’s reaction would be pure deflection. he’d scoff, roll his eyes, and act like he doesn’t care. “fine, go,” he’d say, his tone dripping with venom. “you think i can’t live without you? watch me.” his pride wouldn’t let him admit how much it hurts, so he’d lash out, throwing barbed words your way in an attempt to make you second-guess yourself. it’s a classic manipulation tactic—turning the blame onto you, acting like you’re the one overreacting or being unreasonable.

but as soon as you walk away, he’d start spiralling—anger would segue into panic. he’d start analysing on all the moments he pushed you too far. there would be some level of guilt, but instead of owning up to it, he’d try to convince himself it wasn’t his fault—or worse, blame you for “giving up on him.”

when hours or days pass without a word from you, he’d start calling or texting, alternating between anger (“don’t you dare ignore me”) and desperation (“just tell me what you want me to do”)

when he realises you’re serious and not coming back, he’d oscillate between two extremes. on one hand, he’d try to manipulate you into staying by pulling every card he can think of: guilt-tripping, love-bombing, even reminding you of the good times to make you question your decision. he’d say something like, “you’re just gonna throw all of this away? after everything i’ve done for you?” or, “no one else will care about you the way i do.” not because he doesn’t care (he does care. a lot) it’s because he doesn’t know how else to express his desperation.

on the other hand, he’d also act like he doesn’t give a fuck to protect his ego. he’d put on a front, telling you to go and that he’s fine without you. he’d go to work, or use loads of drugs, just to prove (to himself more than anyone else) that he doesn’t need you. but deep down, he’d feel hollow. every time he numbs himself, it’d just make him think of you more.

if he’s really desperate, and you’ve been ignoring his attempts to get your attention, this might be the moment where he shows an almost childlike side of himself. he’d show up at your door, completely disheveled, and beg you to stay. he’d get on his knees if he thought it’d work, his pride be damned.

after the breakup, if you don’t take him back, he’d probably spiral even worse. he’d rely heavily on unhealthy coping mechanisms—drugs, drinking, or surrounding himself with people who don’t actually care about him. but no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, his mind would always drift back to you. he’d fixate on what he did wrong, though he wouldn’t know how to fix it.

if you did give him a second chance after all this, he’d try to be better, but it’d be a slow, messy process. nam-gyu doesn’t know how to handle his emotions or build a healthy relationship, so even his attempts at improving would be kinda flawed. but the fear of losing you again would drive him to at least try—though whether or not he can actually change is another story.

[hoonieyun]

this is where it ends ⋆˙⟡♡

days of dodging your boyfriend after your fight finally lead you to the answer you've been looking for (read part one here) heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: aaaaangsttttt!!! angst!! heartbreak.. OOF warnings: toxic relationship, bad coping mechanisms, profanity, mentions of drinking as an addiction, gaslighting, arguing, 18+

hoonieyun notes: WHEW... lowkey was like.. damn this shit is TOO angsty so sorry in advance but im obsessed with angst lately and watching xo kitty did not help because that show was a rollercoaster LMAO anyways i hope you guys enjoy this sad piece of work because i have more coming with my vday anthology and exes reunited series plus! i've just announced my 1k follower special!

𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @heartheejake @cloud-lyy @heeweenie @jakesimfromstatefarm @lovelymelon @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@chvconn3 @heeheeyeoiizz01 @pjselee @malloryaloisia @alienqbrain @jooniesbears-blog @haeeeeefer @firstclassjaylee

heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ

it had been 3 days since you left heeseung standing in your apartment, dumbfounded and unsure of where you were. you really had hoped he would run after you that night but he didn’t and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin for you. 

were you ready to throw away your relationship all because of this? 

was it worth it to lose the person you love? 

you had pondered on so many questions since that night and each question felt like you were guilt tripping yourself into thinking that your own feelings weren’t valid, like you were trying to convince yourself that you were overreacting and that heeseung was right. 

why were you being so annoying?

but these questions only led to more questions instead of answers.

were you being annoying or were you just tired of not being heard? 

if you hadn’t been the one to constantly ask him to clean up after himself would he have done it on his own? 

why were you trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself back into his arms when you truly knew deep down the answer you were looking for…

you just weren’t ready to come to terms with it. 

so here you were, hurriedly packing what you could before heeseung could come home. and just to your luck, he had arrived much earlier than you anticipated. “yn?” heeseungs says, shock painted across his face as he sees you standing in the hallway with a box of your things. 

“wh- what are you doing?” he asks, eyes falling on the box in your hands. 

both of you knew the answer to that. 

“i think- i can’t do this anymore, hee… 

i did a lot of thinking these past fews days and everything i thought of i found myself trying to make excuses for you. trying to figure out why i was acting this way and why i was going out of my way to make it seem like i was the one causing these issues and stressing myself out and then i realized… 

why was i trying to compromise my own happiness and well being for someone who didn’t care about me? 

for someone who couldn’t simply understand where i was coming from and couldn’t even listen to me when all i would ask for was something so easy as to clean up after yourself. 

heeseung, you’re grown and so am i and i’m done acting like your words and actions don’t hurt solely for the fact that i don’t want to lose you. 

we’re over.” your eyes had tears pooling in them but you refused to let them fall in front of heeseung. 

“what?” heeseung asks, slipping his shoes off and running over to you in an attempt to stop you, reaching for the box but you move out of the way before he can. 

“yn.. can we please talk about this? don’t jump to conclusions just because you’re hurt. this isn’t what you want, what about us? 

are you willing to throw us away because of some petty fight?” and that’s when you knew that you and heeseung weren’t on the same page… at all. 

“that’s what you have to say?” and at this point you had lost the fight to stop the tears from falling. 

“you haven’t even apologized? and now you’re here trying to gaslight me into thinking that what i’m feeling is just the result of a petty fight? 

hee, you never listen to me. you dismissed my feelings and all i asked was you clean up our bedroom because i was tired. i’m sorry but if that was such a hard task then i don’t know what to tell you. 

i’m not jumping to conclusions. heeseung, we’re done.” you say, pushing passed him so you could leave and move on. start new and heal from this pain. 

“really? you’re just going to walk away?” heeseung asks, still refusing to take accountability for his actions. 

“i’m not walking away… you pushed me away.”

“bye, heeseung.”

jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ

jay hadn’t been able to pick up a bottle of alcohol since that night… 5 months ago. he hadn’t realized he developed a bad habit of drinking all because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his loving girlfriend, the one who took care of him, who loved him, who fought for him to make things right, was slowly becoming someone he didn’t love anymore. 

so why was it that now that you two were broken up, he wants nothing more to get back together with you? 

he thought about the day you finally came back. after you ran out in the middle of the night jay didn’t see you for a whole week and by the end of that week, you would be gone for good. 

“is this what you really want?” jay had asked you right before you left. 

“its not what i want… but it doesn’t seem like what i want would be something that could ever happen if i stayed with you. 

you hurt me, jay. all i ever did was care for you and love you and it made me realize i hadn’t felt care or love from you for a while now. 

i truly hope that you get help for your drinking problem but i’m sorry i’m not going to be the one to fix it for you.” and with that you were gone. out of jay’s life and although you had said that you weren’t going to be the one to fix his drinking problem, in a lot of ways; you did fix it. 

he hadn’t drank since that night and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t drink ever again and 5 months after, he’s kept that promise. 

jay wished that he did keep his promise to you. 

when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he had promised to hold your heart close to his and to never break it. only to find himself distancing his heart from yours and eventually shattering it into millions of pieces when you got into a fight that night. 

but he was now forced to face all of this all over again as you stood in front of him, mirroring the same shocked face he had as the two of you run into each other at a mutual friends party. 

you hadn’t seen jay since that night and although your heart ached for him, you had to choose yourself. you couldn’t stand being with someone who saw you as overbearing when all you did was care for and love them. 

you truly had been worried about jay ever since his drinking habits had gone worse and maybe you could’ve gone about it a better way and not made him feel attacked for his actions but he didn’t have the same consideration for you so why should you do the same… right? 

“h-hi.. yn. you look good.” jay stutters. 

“you do too, um.. i–” you begin to say but he cuts you off. “look, i know we didn’t end on the right foot and these past five months have been hard for me so i could only imagine how hard they’ve been on you. 

i wasn’t right to treat you that way and i’m sorry i’m only realizing it now. i miss you so much and i spend countless nights thinking about you. reminiscing on the good times and how i let myself ruin all of it. 

i’m sorry, yn.” it all comes out like word vomit and quite frankly, you weren’t prepared to hear any of it. you also hadn’t expected him to have this much of grasp on your relationship five months after, but it was all too late. 

“i’m sorry too, jay– but i can’t keep doing this. i think you need to move on. i know i will…” you muttered.

“for what it’s worth… you did help me… i’m five months sober.” he confesses and you give him a tight lipped smile. 

“take care of yourself, ok?” you say before turning around to leave and although jay wished that he could’ve said all of this five months sooner in hopes that it would’ve fixed your relationship, he respects your wishes and just hopes that the next guy who comes around would love you the way you deserved to be loved. 

jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ

in the time you’ve dated jake or quite frankly, anyone, they had never raised their voice and spoke to you in that way. jake seemed so angry and upset that it scared you. you knew that jake would never hurt you but his words pierced your heart in ways that caused you pain you had never felt before, especially from someone you love and was supposed to love you.

it always hurts more when it comes from someone you love right? 

you had come home the next day and found jake sleeping on the couch, hugging the plushy that he often said looked like you. 

you’d be lying if you said that seeing him like this didn’t make your heart hurt… but it did. 

it seemed like jake had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

the feeling of being unwanted, unloved, undesirable, and not enough for someone who is supposed to love you. 

but if jake had loved you he wouldn’t have raised his voice at you.. let alone speak to you in that tone and used language that was meant to hurt someone. 

“yn? is that you?” he says, stretching on the couch and rubbing his eyes, causing you to snap out of it. you quickly wipe away the tears that had miraculously appeared. “um, yeah. i just came to grab some things. you can go back to sleeping..” you explained as you made your way to your shared bedroom. 

“baby? can we talk?” jake says, peering into the room as he sees you packing your things inside of duffel bag. “wait- what are you packing? are you leaving? baby, please don’t do this, can we talk this out?” he was now on his knees in front of you, clutching onto your sweater while he begged. 

“jake, get up.” you say, rolling your eyes at him. 

“its just for a few days, i need time to myself- i need to think, ok?” you said and even now, even when you’re still hurting because of him from the night before, you were here trying to comfort him. 

jake stands up with a sniffle and he attempts to link your hands together but you pull away to continue packing your bag. “when are we going to talk about this? i love you, i don’t want you to leave… please stay.” he continues to beg and although its working, you needed to stay strong. 

“if you loved me you wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. people who love each other don’t speak to people they love that way. 

jake, you hurt me… and i don’t know what i did to deserve that treatment but i just wanted help. i spent all day running errands despite feeling like shit because of my period and you dismissed my feelings like it was nothing. 

that blanket meant so much to me, you knew that it was from my late grandmother yet you tossed it aside for your own accord because you didn’t have the same care for me and the things i love the way i do for you.” you said with a huff as you stuffed the last of your things into the bag. 

“when will you come back?” was all jake asked and all you could muster up was a shrug, because you weren’t entirely sure when you would be back. 

needless to say, a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months and at some point you found yourself not having the need to come back. 

you wished you could get the closure you wanted from jake and you were sure he also wanted that, but walking away was something you needed to do. even if it was just one instance where jake spoke to you that way, it was enough for you to leave because you weren’t going to allow yourself to be with someone who found it in themselves to speak that way to someone they supposedly loved. 

not then, not now, and not ever.

sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ

sunghoon hadn’t known what he was doing, it was like his body was moving before his brain could think because he was running back inside and grabbing his car keys to drive after you. 

he wasn’t sure where you were headed off to but he had guessed that you were most likely going to stay with your mom. you were always close with your mom and she often was the person you went to when you were having troubles if you didn’t go to sunghoon. 

sunghoon knew he fucked up and he shouldn’t have treated you that way let alone let some strangers treat you that way. he didn’t know what let him get to the point where he was allowing these men to speak about you, the girl that he loved, in a way that made you feel small. demeaning and degrading you in a way that he hadn’t realized and even if he did, he chose to look away instead of defend you all because he was filled with the greed of wanting this promotion. 

was it even worth it anymore if it meant losing you? 

sunghoon was speeding at this point and although you hadn’t left much before he had went to follow you, there was no one else in the streets as he sped through to catch up to you. 

in a short amount of time, he’s turning into the street that your mom lives on and sure enough, he sees you just about to walk up to the front door. he hapazardly parks the car on the side of the street and stumbles out of his car to get to you. 

“yn, please. wait, lets talk about this!” he says and you’re startled at sunghoon suddenly appearing and you wipe the tears from your face and blink a few times to make sure he was actually there. 

“hoon? what are you doing here?” you ask, stepping down the small stairway that led to your mom’s home. “i couldn’t just let you leave like that, we need to talk-

look i’m sorry for the way i treated you and even more sorry that i let them treat you that way. i love you so much and i couldn’t imagine the amount of hurt i caused you for making it seem like i was okay with letting them say those things about you all because i wanted that promotion so damn bad. 

i was selfish and greedy but those are the things that make me want you more. i don’t want you to leave and walk away from me because i am selfish and greedy and i want you all to myself. 

i’m sorry that i didn’t defend you and i made you feel small…” he says and at this point sunghoon is crying. his voice breaks with every other word and you truly hadn’t seen sunghoon in this much distress, ever. 

you didn’t know how to respond but the longer you looked into sunghoon’s bloodshot eyes, the more confused you became. 

you could tell sunghoon was sincere but you didn’t think this was something that could be fixed right then and there. your sensitivity was always something you struggled with and sunghoon knew that yet he brushed off your feelings like it was nothing. 

“you shouldn’t have driven out all this way… 

because although i appreciate your apology i don’t know that i’m in the right place to accept it or to forgive you. 

sunghoon you hurt me and you let others hurt me. 

i’m selfish too, i want you all to myself too and i wouldn’t have stayed so long if i didn’t love you and want to be with you… but-

i don’t know if i can be with someone that doesn’t see me in the way i deserve. 

and i certainly know i don’t deserve any of that.” both of your attention is drawn to the sound of the front door as it opens, revealing your mother in her nightwear and arms crossed; a displeased expression on her face. 

“i’ll reach out to you when i’m ready.” you say and without another word you’re retreating into your mom’s home, hiding away from sunghoon and preparing yourself to have to face the inevitable one day. 

sunghoon on the other hand, drags himself to his car, head hanging low as he has to come to terms that his own selfishness and greed for the one he loved was also what caused him to lose the love of his life. 

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[dolcejwnie]

YOUNG LUST, X ᥫ᭡. N.RIKI

SYNOPSIS : you get in your ex's car. inspired by diet pepsi of addison rae.

GENRE: ex! niki x ex! reader au, smut, songfic, 1.9k words

WARNINGS: smut! oral (f!rec), dirty talking, car sex, we all know what the song is about, minors dni!

remember to reblog and like for more content!

the night was electric, the hum of the city lights filling the air, casting shadows on the streets. nishimura riki’s car purred beneath you as you both drove down a quiet road, the rhythm of the tires a comforting beat against your thoughts. you were in the backseat, heart racing, feeling a wave of anticipation wash over you. his hands gripped the steering wheel with confidence, exuding an effortless allure that made your heart race. he was someone you knew — charming, confident, and always just out of reach. you had never pictured yourself in this moment with him, and yet here you were, the thrill of the night whispering secrets into your ears.

the faint glow of a streetlamp reflected off his cross-gold chain, a flash of gold that shimmered like a beacon, catching your eye with every subtle turn of his head. he glanced at you for a moment, that mischievous smirk on his lips as he caught your gaze. his words were sweet, but there was an edge to them — a teasing promise that made your heart race.

even after everything, he still had that effect on you. “you look good tonight,” he said, the words rolling off his tongue with genuine warmth, but there was an unmistakable edge — a teasing promise that made your heart thump loudly, reminding you of the chemistry that had once brought you together.

you shifted slightly, the rip in your jeans drawing his attention, the fabric hugging at your legs just right. it felt as if he could sense the effect he had on you, how his words tugged at old feelings, reigniting forgotten embers; the way his words wrapped around your spirit and made your cheeks blossom with warmth — a cherry in the radiant spring sun, fresh, ripe, and bursting with life. memories of your time together flared, but this was different: you were not just his ex, you were in the backseat of his car, separated by miles and circumstances, yet inexplicably drawn back together in this reckless moment.

you could have taken a different ride home from the party; you could have avoided this moment, but still, you chose this — the two of you stealing a moment in the dark.

he reached over, fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver racing down your spine. the air felt thick with unfulfilled desires and unspoken words, as if the weight of everything left unsaid spiraled around you. the night felt charged with possibilities, and you could feel the tension crackling between you like electricity. you had made other choices tonight, but somehow found yourself here again, with the man who once pulled at your heartstrings.

suddenly, he slowed the car, the engine humming softly as he pulled over to the side of the road, the headlights illuminating the dark stretch of deserted street ahead. your breath quickened as he shifted, turning slightly to face you, his gaze dark and intense. it was a moment suspended in time where everything else faded away, leaving just the two of you simmering with tension.

“i can’t help but think about how you look tonight,” he murmured, leaning closer, his voice sultry and low, drowning out any thoughts of what was right or wrong. “you leave your mark everywhere, don’t you?”

with a swift movement, he maneuvered himself to straddle in the back seat, effectively pinning you beneath him. the exhilaration of the moment mixed with a sense of danger as he pushed his body against yours, making you acutely aware of every inch of him. the freedom of the night surged within you, drowning out the doubts that had lingered at the back of your mind.

his fingers slid beneath the hem of your jeans, fingertips trailing softly along your thigh, igniting a fire that surged through your body, each touch sending waves of heat spiraling through you. the car transformed into a sanctuary, a world away from the rest of existence, as your breath quickened with every caress. you leaned into him, craving more of his warmth, the weight of desire pressing against your consciousness.

“you drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with a hunger that mirrored your own. he didn’t give you a chance to respond, leaning in for another kiss that stole your breath. soft at first, but quickly escalating into a heated exploration, his lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your heart race.

as his hands found the buttons of your jeans, he paused, teasingly looking into your eyes, searching for your permission. you nodded slightly, a surge of excitement coursing through you, and with that, he continued, unfastening them with deliberate slowness that sent your pulse racing. he grinned, that wicked smile spilling over his features as he slid your jeans down your legs. there was an intoxicating thrill in the vulnerability, the intimacy of the moment.

“just like that,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath as anticipation coiled tightly within you. riki's gaze darkened, filled with something primal, almost possessive. he leaned down, his lips trailing down your neck, warm kisses burning sweet paths along your skin as he pressed close, dragging his body against yours. you arched into him, lost in the sensations that spiraled with each touch.

with a swift motion, he settled between your legs, spreading them wider as he made himself comfortable, drinking in the sight of you. you gasped as his hands found the soft skin of your thighs, his touch igniting every nerve ending until you felt like you were on fire. the world outside faded completely, leaving only the throbbing pulse of your desire, echoing in tune with your racing heart.

“you’re exquisite,” he murmured against your skin, the words vibrating through you as he kissed lower, the warm exhale of his breath causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps. when his tongue flicked out, tasting the tender skin of your inner thigh, you moaned softly, your body arching instinctively toward him, urging him to continue. every flick, every teasing caress made your senses come alive, pulling you deeper into a blissful haze.

then, as if sensing the crescendo building inside you, he placed a kiss just above the waistband of your panties, his fingers teasingly brushing against the fabric before shifting them aside. a gasp tore from your lips as he slowly drew your pleasure closer, his mouth enveloping you in warmth, his tongue swirling with tormented delight. the world outside disappeared, leaving you utterly absorbed in the sensations he ignited, each flick of his tongue sending shudders of ecstasy radiating through you.

“riki,” you breathed, the syllables escaping your lips like a prayer, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him to delve deeper. he complied, his touch eager and insistent, exploring your depths as you surrendered to the pleasure that built like a storm within you. each movement of his mouth was calculated and delicious, pulling you closer to the precipice as your body ached for release.

as the waves of pleasure rose higher, you felt the tension coil, building tightly until it threatened to consume you whole. you could feel your heart racing, breath quickening in time with the rhythm he carved into your body, each kiss igniting a fresh wave of delight. just as you were teetering on the edge, he slid a finger inside you, curling it in a way that perfectly found the spot that sent you spiraling. “oh, god,” you gasped, the sensation sending you over the brink, and you clutched at him harder, as if anchoring yourself to reality.

“that’s it, just let go,” he urged, his voice thick with raw need, and at that moment, you couldn’t hold back anymore. you surrendered completely, your body writhing beneath his expert touch as you felt yourself cresting a wave of ecstasy that washed over you like a tidal surge, pulling you under and leaving nothing but blissful chaos in its wake.

when you came down, breathless and exhilarated, you pulled him up for another fierce kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, and the passion surged back to life. he quickly shed his remaining clothes, the urgency palpable in the air as he positioned himself at your entrance, his gaze locking onto yours in a moment that felt both intimate and electric.

“you want this, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and inviting, hot with relentless desire. you nodded, words escaping you as the urgency overwhelmed your senses. his mouth found its way down your neck, trailing kisses that felt rough and demanding, igniting a heat low in your belly.

“tell me you want it,” he commanded, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you tight against the seat. each kiss, each bite of his lips made you squirm, raw and desperate, a fiery need blooming within you.

“please, riki,” you gasped, the urgency of your voice shattering any restraint. “i want you.” His sound of satisfaction rang out low in his throat, and with a sudden fierce thrust of his hips, he took you, filling you completely,stretching you in a way that sent another rush of delight coursing through you. the sensation was overwhelming, pulling a moan from deep within you as he began to move, each thrust merging with the rhythm of your heart.

it felt as if time itself had stopped, the world outside falling away as you lost yourselves in the dance of passion—the sound of skin against skin, the cadence of your breaths blending into a harmonious chorus of pleasure. 

“god, you feel so good, i missed you so much,” he growled, momentum building as he set a forceful, relentless pace. each thrust intensified the fever pitch of your desire; it felt raw, primal — the rhythm of your bodies colliding in a heady mix of passion and abandon, drowning any thoughts of restraint. the car rocked slightly with the force, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the confined space, mingled with hurried breaths and desperate moans that echoed against the windows.

you lost yourself in the moment, every thrust driving you closer to the edge, the world outside a distant memory. his fingers gripped your hips, pulling you closer with brute force, demanding more, and you gave it willingly, matching his rhythm with your own. you could feel the heat pooling deeper, hungry for release, your body responding uncontrollably to him as he chased his own pleasure.

“you’re mine,” he growled before stealing another kiss, his voice a mixture of possession and lust. “only mine.” each word only fueled the fire within you, pushing you closer to that sweet peak of desire. with every thrust, you could feel yourself unraveling, pleasure surging through you in waves, threatening to consume you entirely in your desperate need for him.

as the intensity built, you felt the tension humming along your skin, every nerve ending alight with pleasure, and you were sure you were about to explode. everything that had once held you apart seemed to vanish, replaced by an intoxicating mix of thrill and desperation.

“only this moment matters,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver through you. “forget everything else.”

then, as he thrust deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you with reckless abandon, it sent you spiraling over the edge. the pleasure crested like a tidal wave, crashing through you, leaving you gasping as you reached the pinnacle, crying out his name as you surrendered completely.

and in that intoxicating chaos, both of you knew this encounter would haunt your thoughts long after tonight, a secret filled with pure, unrestrained lust that left you gasping for more.

⭑.ᐟauthor note .ᐟ ive honestly wanted to push over my comfort zone in my writing, and tried to do some smut. (ᵕ—ᴗ—) this is pure experiment, ive never ever tried to write smut before honestly, i would like some feedback 🫶

[spicyspiders]

Professor Howlett

logan howlett x male reader smut

3.7k words

cw: power imbalance (logan is the reader's professor), age difference, rimming, virginity kink, thigh fucking, size kink, and spit as lube.

“This is utterly disappointing,” Professor Howlett tosses your paper down onto his desk with a thwap. The sound makes you jump, but you quickly steel yourself before he can look up and see how your calm expression is beginning to break.

You have to clear your throat before responding, though it does little to stop the lump you feel forming in your throat, ”I tried my best, professor,” you respond, keeping your eyes locked on the paper littered with red pen marks.

“Did you?” Professor Howlett questions angrily, making you jump once more at the tone, “because this sure as hell doesn’t read like it!”

“Professor, I-” you try to explain, but he cuts you off. 

“The first paper you wrote got the highest grade in the class, and then you go on to write this?” He asks, waving the red pen he used to mark up your paper angrily in the air as he speaks. If you weren’t biting your lip hard enough that at any second you thought it would bleed, you would laugh at the display. 

He looked at you expectantly, and with how angry he looked, you didn’t think any explanation that you could give would be enough. You had to try and do so anyway, knowing the sooner you spoke, the sooner you could leave his office and contemplate dropping his class or dropping out of college in general. 

You suck in a shaky breath before you respond, “I’m sorry, professor,” and when his angry expression doesn’t falter, you continue, “I knew I didn’t give myself enough time and knew I just had to take the hit to my grade and do better on the next paper.”

The man in front of you lets out a bitter laugh, “so you waste my time?”

“That wasn’t my intention, sir,” you respond, slouching down into the chair, trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You look up at the man across from you after a few moments of awkward silence, meeting his eyes as you try to calm your racing heart. 

He lets out a long sigh before he speaks again, “I must have set my expectations for the rest of your assignments too high,” he passes the paper across the desk until it sets in front of you, “I apologize.”

You can feel anger welling up in your body at his words. It was one bad assignment, it’s not like you were now some lost cause. “I can still write a paper just as good as the first one,” you snap before snatching the paper off the desk. “I told you,” you huff, angrily unzipping your book backpack to put the paper inside, “I didn’t give myself enough time, which won’t happen again,” you stand up in a flash, the chair shooting out from behind you fast enough you’re surprised it didn’t tip over, “I apologize, professor.”

“Hey hey hey,” Logan says, racing around the desk to grab your shoulder. He turns you around slowly from where you were about to stop out of his office and slam the door behind you, “I don’t want this to impact your grade.”

”It already is,” you spit, not angry at him, but angry at yourself. You remember getting the notification this morning that your professor had posted the grade, the number immediately turning your mood sour. 

“It’s okay,” Professor Howlett says, running a soothing hand down your shoulder, “I’ll give you a week to rewrite the paper and give you full credit back.”

“I’m not rewriting the paper,” you say with a bitter laugh that sounds a lot like Professor Howlett’s did earlier. 

“I know you can do better than this,” Professor Howlett responds, crossing his arms along his broad chest. 

“As you’ve already said,” you say, rolling your eyes, “I’m not writing an extra paper,” too tired to even think after you stayed up all night bullshitting the paper you had turned into Professor Howlett, you put the decision in his hands: “so what do you want to do, professor?” You ask tiredly.

You stare into Professor Howlett’s eyes, waiting for the man to make his decision. He looks back at you, observing you closely with his dark eyes. You are on the edge of feeling uncomfortable by the time he’s made up his mind, a look that you’re unable to pinpoint settling over his face. 

“Take off your bag and put it in the chair,” he commands, the lone tone of his voice making you shiver. 

“Okay,” you respond shakily, now back in front of him with your bag resting in the chair, “now wh-”

Your back collides with the door, and then a second later, his lips collide with yours. You gasp in surprise against his mouth and feel his tongue enter the opening, the appendage sliding wetly against yours. 

Too caught off guard to respond to the kiss, Logan moans against your unresponsive lips, one of his hands going to your chin to angle your head so his tongue can move deeper. His other hand you can hear beside you fiddling with the lock, and when the knob finally clicks, you can barely hear it over the sound of Professor Howlett’s breathing after he pulls away from the kiss. 

“Professor-” you begin, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, your mind too confused on whether you should push him away or pull him closer. You’ve already crossed the line you never thought you would cross. Sure, you had your fantasies dating back to the first day you walked into class, but you thought those would just stay in your head, only coming out in breaths of the professor’s name when your mind would wonder when you touched yourself.

“Logan.”

“Logan,” you correct yourself, trying to bite back a moan when Professor- Logan pushes his thigh between your legs, “I don’t think-”

He cuts you off with yet another kiss, but this time, you crane your neck to pull away from the kiss, trying your hardest to ignore the weight of your cock chubbing up in your pants. 

The second kiss ending abruptly does nothing to discourage Logan, instead, it gives his lips a new area to map out. “You drive me insane,” Logan moans against the column of your neck, his stubble digging into the sensitive skin. “So smart,” he says kissing down until he reaches the collar of your shirt, “so beautiful,” he whispers, moving to press his forehead to yours, “yet you barely talk in class,” he says, pressing his lips to yours once more, but this one much softer than the last. 

There wasn’t a participation grade outlined in the syllabus for Logan’s class like it was for some of your other professors, meaning you weren’t going to talk if you didn’t have to. Sometimes you did, feeling bad when he would ask a question and no one would respond immediately, hating the awkward silence. And now that you think about it, those were usually the nights your mind would think of him while your fingers were wrapped around your cock. Good job or good answer Logan would say, the praise lighting a coil of pleasure deep in your belly. 

“It’s only for me to see, is it?” Logan asks, his hands moving to hold your hips possessively, “only I get to see how smart you are,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, seemingly answering his own question. His lips go to the racing pulse point on the side of your neck, his teeth sinking into the skin. 

The bite burns, making your mouth fall open with a whimper, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure. Logan’s hot tongue runs over the mark, trying to soothe the pain with warmth. You give way to the feeling, letting your head fall back onto the wooden door, giving Logan more room to work. 

You bury a hand in his dark hair, running your fingers through the dark locks. Logan pulls away at the feel of your fingers in his hair, his eyes now darker than they once were, his pupils dilated in lust. You stare at each other once more before, taking in Logan’s already disheveled appearance with his dark eyes, messy hair, and crooked tie.       

You respond to the next kiss Logan initiates. It’s softer than you expect, at least, it is at the start. It begins to heat up when you tighten the hand in Logan’s hair to change the angle. You both moan when your tongues meet once more, spit mixing together. 

Logan wraps an arm around your lower back so you can stumble your way to the couch that sits against one of the walls of his office. Your lips break for air when you feel the back of your legs meet the cushions, your chest heaving as you suck in lungfuls of air.

Logan pushes you down onto the couch before one of his hands yanks at his tie, pulling it through the neckline of his sweater, and then he throws the garment away as if it has offended him.  Next comes the black sweater, leaving him with dark slacks and a button-up shirt. 

You feel your cock throb in your pants as you watch Logan lower himself onto his knees. He pushes his way between your legs, his hands going to your hips to get your pants down in a pool between your ankles. 

Your breath comes out in a stutter when Logan leans down, his nose coming into contact with the bulge in your underwear. He runs his nose along the length of your cock, then his tongue runs along the same path, paying extra attention to the wet spot on the cloth that rests over the head of your cock.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moan when Logan gets your underwear out of the way and swallows your cock. Logan takes it deep enough for you to feel, the hot, wet, constriction of his throat, his hand finding balance on your thighs. 

Logan’s breath puffs wetly against the head of your cock when he pulls away, his spit hardly having the chance to cool and dry as Logan runs his tongue up the length of your cock. He doesn’t take it as deep when he sucks it back inside his mouth, instead, he focuses on the suction. The hot suction of his mouth pulls a glob of precum from the head of your cock onto Logan’s tongue, the older man groaning at the taste.

The vibration through your cock makes your hips jump, sending your cock back deep into Logan’s throat. The movement catches Logan off guard, causing the man to gag around your cock, his throat convulsing wetly around the hard length of your cock. 

You pull the hand over your mouth and put it into Logan’s hair, trying to run your fingers through the strands soothingly. “Sorry,” you gasp, swiping your thumb under Logan’s eyes to wipe away the tears that fell. 

Logan surges up to pull you into a wet, messy kiss. His tongue is immediately in your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“M’sorry,” you repeat. 

Logan chuckles softly, “it’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses on your cheeks.

Your stomach tightens at the pet name, affection coursing through your body. You place your hands on Logan’s belt buckle, already knowing how much you’re going to struggle trying to get his pants undone and out of the way. 

It takes you longer than you want to get his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, and Logan doesn’t make it any easier when he presses, chaste, soft kisses to your mouth. Once open, Logan stands to get his pants down and off, the large bulge of his cock trapped behind his underwear. 

Just the sight of the bulge has you feeling intimidated, while at the same time making your mouth water. Anticipation joins the mix of lust and intimidation in your gut, which all combine into a feeling of pleasure that has your cock throbbing in the air. 

You place your hands on his waistband, Logan’s hands coming to rest atop yours a second later. With Logan’s help, you push his underwear down slowly, watching second by second as his cock is revealed to you.   

Your fantasies did not measure the actual size of his cock in all of its long and thick glory. It hangs heavy in front of your face, a bead of precum already glistening at the tip. Past the length of Logan’s cock, his balls hang heavy and full. This up close, you can also smell his musk: heady and all Logan.

A broad palm cupping your cheek draws your attention away, turning it instead to Logan’s face. A wave of heat washes over your body when you realize that in the moments where you were taking in the appearance of Logan’s cock, the man had pulled the rest of his clothes off. The button-up now lays in the pile with the rest of his clothes, giving you a full view of his broad, muscular chest. 

“I’ve never seen you so distracted,” Logan says with a smirk, his thumb running along your cheekbone. 

“What?” You question back, your voice breathy. 

Logan’s smirk broadens into a full smile, “I asked if you wanted to take that off.”

At a loss for words, you can barely think of a response, “oh,” you decide. 

Logan chuckles softly, his other hand running along the slit of his cock. When he pulls it away, a strand of precum follows the pad of his finger. Logan pushes his finger past your lips, still open in the shape of the soft oh you just let out. 

You suck at his finger when it touches your tongue, the salty taste lighting up your tastebuds. You hear Logan groan when you suck harder, wanting to get to the flavor underneath and see what Logan himself tastes like. 

Logan’s finger comes free with a slick pop, “let’s get the rest of this off,” he says. 

You only had your shirt and shoes to get off, and what should have been an easy, less than a minute process, felt like a lifetime. Logan tenderly pulled your shoes and socks off, one and then the other. Your shirt was next, coming off slowly with two broad palms sneaking up your shirt. Logan’s lips followed the path his hands made, all the way up to your lips that he kissed after your shirt was tossed away. 

Logan got back into the familiar position he was just in, but instead of sucking your cock, his mouth went lower. He bit into the meat of your thighs, and though you couldn’t see the one on your neck, you were sure that it matched the new ones he was making. 

“Roll over,” Logan commands, pressing a kiss to the mark he just made on your left thigh. Logan maneuvers your body into the position he wants, leaving your body pressed to the front of the couch, and your feet hanging over the cushions in front of Logan.

You press your forehead into the wall in front of you, feeling the puffs of Logan’s breath along your back, “do you have lube?” He asks in a low voice, his lips running across your skin. 

“No,” you reply, your body tense as you try not to shake in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” Logan breathes, his head coming to rest against your shoulder, “that’s okay,” he says, and you feel your body relax, “I can get you wet enough,” With how big his cock was, you doubt it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

Logan’s first step to getting you to be what he says is wet enough is with his tongue. He starts with soft swipes of his tongue, letting you get accustomed to it. It wasn’t like it was hard, especially with the combination of the rough stubble on his face, which only added to the pleasure. 

The next step is spit, which, really you could say goes with the first. You already feel as if there’s enough of it already there from Logan’s tongue, a large extent due to when Logan kept pushing his tongue as far as it could go. It left you clenching down on the wet muscle, clawing your fingers into the couch as it massaged your walls. 

Logan didn’t let up and moved to spit a glob of spit onto your hole when it relaxed after pulling his tongue free. Caught off guard, you jerked forward, your cock coming into contact with the cushion of the couch. The friction had you gritting your teeth trying to stay quiet, hoping that because it was nearly five in the afternoon on Friday, most of the people in the building were already gone. 

Logan was quick to press the spit into your hole with a thick finger, all the way down until you were clenching down on all of it. “There we go,” Logan whispers from behind you, the wet heat of his breath on your shoulder. 

You turn your neck to face him, gasping into the kiss he presses to your lips. Logan swallows the moan that’s punched from your chest when his finger finds your prostate, the older man groaning as you clench down on his finger. 

Logan pulls away from the kiss at the same time his finger is pulled free. You feel the couch shift as Logan moves, the man making his way back down face-to-face with your hole. You’re proud of yourself for not jumping as hard when Logan spits on your hole a second time, the glob going deeper than the first after opening your hole just with one finger.    

“Does it burn, baby?” Logan asks, now that he’s using two fingers to chase after the spit instead of one.

”A little,” you whine around the burn as he scissors them apart. Almost like Logan can read your mind, he brushes his fingers along your prostate when the burn feels like it’s becoming too much. You feel precum leak from your cock, staining the upholstery. 

”That’s normal for your first time,” Logan says, pressing kisses along the shell of your ear. 

”I’ve done this before,” you respond, pushing back into Logan’s fingers. 

”Someone’s fucked you?” Logan asks, his arm coming to wrap around your stomach, right above your hard cock.

”Just my fingers,” you respond quietly. 

“How many?” Logan asks, his fingers coming to a stop. 

“Four,” you grit out, clenching down on his fingers like you’re wordlessly trying to get him to continue. 

Logan lets out a dark chuckle. He lays his hand on top of yours, his big hand bigger than your own. He stretches his fingers out, showing you how they compare in size. “That’s nearly your whole fist,” he says, his fingers starting to move again. 

“Need more,” you whine, clenching down on his fingers. 

“Shh,” Logan coos, “I know,” he lets out a warm breath at the back of your neck, “I can’t fuck you,” he says, pulling his fingers free slowly, “not like this.”

”Please,” you whine, louder than the one before. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he responds, pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck. You feel his weight on the couch shift once more as he spreads your thighs apart. It’s a tight squeeze trying to fit the both of you on the couch, but Logan makes it work. 

He pushes his cock between your thighs, right below your balls, already tight against your cock. He grips your hips tightly before he begins thrusting, only taking a few jerks of his hips before you push your thighs together around his cock. 

The sound of Logan’s groan behind you travels from his chest to your back, letting you feel how good you’re making him feel. ”Does that mean I was the first?” He asks, one of his hands moving to wrap around your cock. 

“What?” You asked, confused, your mind cloudy from the pleasure. 

“Am I the first to touch you like this?” Logan questions, his voice a low growl. His fingers are slick around your cock, gliding along the length. 

You nod quickly, too close to the edge and overtaken with pleasure to even say a single word. You cum to the feel of Logan’s hand around your cock, his teeth biting possessively into the skin of your shoulder, and his cock nudging your balls. Ropes of cum shoot from your cock, staining the couch in his office. You probably won’t be able to look at couches ever the same again. 

Logan’s hand shoots up to your mouth, covering your lips as you moan, overtaken by the pleasure of your orgasm. You rest against his palm, falling forward while at the same time tightening the slick valley of your thighs.

Logan muffles his moan in the crook of your sweaty neck when he cums. It nearly burns, making a bigger mess in your thighs and on the couch. 

In a blur, Logan gets you onto his chest, his back now resting on the couch, “you okay?” He questions, his hand running softly along the sweaty expanse of your back. 

“I don’t think I can move,” you respond, still riding the high of probably one of the best orgasms you’ve had. 

Logan laughs loud enough that your head shakes against his chest. Moments later, when you’re nearly lulled to sleep by the ticking of the clock in his office, Logan speaks, “I’m sorry for getting so frustrated with you,” he says softly. 

“What do you mean?” You question, craning your head to look up at the man.

“I see how smart you are,” he answers, his voice a low rumble, “it made me frustrated to see you not working up to your potential.”

“I said I was sorry,” you immediately respond, not sure if you should pout or roll your eyes.   

“I know, baby,” he says with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “I know,” he leans down to press your lips together softly, “I just wanted to explain myself.”

This time you did roll your eyes, too fucked-out to try and control your expression, “I’ll write a better paper next time,” you grumble, moving to lay your head down once more over his chest.  

[g4rvez-r3id]

Anything For Ellie : Part Two

Spencer Reid x Single Mom!Reader

Synopsis: It’s your daughter, Ellie’s birthday and your ex has broken yet another promise to her. Spencer’s there to comfort you and perhaps, feelings come to light.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: mild angst, but mostly fluff! reader has issues with ellie’s biological father, crying, yelling, kissing- that should cover it.

Author’s Note: here is part two! anyone want a part three?

part one

It was Ellie’s birthday. And Spencer had gotten lucky with not getting called in for a case. (He’d been the first person to show up to help you decorate your apartment). Of course, he’d come to help you the night before, especially the decorations you wanted to put on the ceiling and seeing as he was tall enough to help with decorations, he was the man for the job.

There were a few hours left of the party, Ellie had been laughing and running around with her friends, having fun and playing games. And even Spencer had shown Ellie and her friends a couple of magic tricks, playing the part of the magician of the party and exciting them.

All of the moms that were there seemingly harbored a crush on Spencer, all jealous of the fact that this Spencer was your next door neighbor and even some of the moms had asked if you two were dating (and if they could get his number if he wasn’t). You’d felt a little territorial over him, laughing it off with the moms and brushing off their comments because at least they didn’t have the luxury of living next door to the sexiest man alive.

Even Penelope, Spencer’s friend — that later became your friend — made an appearance at the party. Ellie always loved the bubbly Miss Penelope Garcia and you’d met her when you’d run into him and Penelope at a coffee shop one time. Since then, Penelope had become a best friend of sorts and came to visit at the bakery all of the time since she met you.

It’d been a couple of minutes before you were going to cut the cake and have Ellie blow out her candles. You’d been waiting on her father to show, like he’d promised Ellie. And as you watched Spencer show another magic trick, you paced. You’d sent text message after text message to your ex and he’d yet to respond to you.

Finally, your phone began to buzz and your ex’s contact came through on the screen and you quickly excuse yourself from the party, going out into the hall since your apartment was noisy at the moment.

Spencer had noticed as you walked out into the hall and by the lack of appearance from Ellie’s father, he knew it was most likely him calling you. Quickly, he distracted the kids with his playing cards, telling them to try and practice the trick on each other and went to go and check on you.

When he opened the door, your back was turned to him and you were angry. “What am I supposed to tell Ellie, Mark? You promised her you’d be here!” Your ex said something on the other line and you’d yet to notice Spencer standing there by your door.

“Something always comes up, Mark. And it’s not fair to Ellie, especially on her birthday. If I knew any better, I’d say you didn’t care about her at all.” He cuts in , most likely to tell you you were wrong, but you interrupt him almost immediately. “No, you don’t care! Otherwise, you’d be here. I’ve tried giving you the benefit of the doubt for Ellie’s sake but I’m tired of bullshit excuse after bullshit excuse. And now, I have to tell Ellie how her bullshit father is not showing up to her birthday like he promised. And you know what? I’m going to the courts and requesting full custody because you cannot be bothered to be there for her like an actual father.” Another pause. “I can do that, Mark. You hardly ever see her. It will be a no-brainer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, one of us wants to be there for our daughter and since it’s definitely not you, I’m stepping up to the plate. Screw you, Mark.” And with that, you hang up and groan out of frustration.

It’s then that you see Spencer standing there and you’re flustered at the fact that he may have just witnessed that entire thing. You sigh and hold your phone up, “Ellie’s dad not coming.” You say. “Yeah, I gathered that.” Spencer stated.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks and you scoff at him, “Am I okay? Not really.” You look down and feel the tears brimming in your eyes and you feel arms wrap around you. Spencer was never really one for hugs, so the motion kind of shocked you. You felt small as you find yourself wrapping your own arms around his torso and you just cry. And he lets you.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Spencer assures but you shake your head, “I just wanted him to keep his promise to her, for once.” Spencer rubs your back in comfort, head resting on the top of your head. “I know.” He whispers to you.

“The least he could do is show up and be there for her, you know? And I try and try and try and he’s always just… it makes me feel shitty because he acts like I keep her away from him and I don’t. I encourage their relationship and he’s the one not putting any effort for his own kid!” You exclaim out of frustration and you pull away, looking at him as you wipe your tears. “Maybe he was right, I am a hot mess.”

“I know, but you know what? It’s his loss.” Spencer tells you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “He chose not to be here but that has nothing to do with you or with Ellie. And if he wants to remain in a state of unhappiness, then that’s on him.” You sniffle as Spencer speaks to you so kindly. “You’re amazing, Y/n. You’re kind, you’re smart and funny, Ellie is so lucky to have you as a mother. I see how you are with her. And you do everything in your power to keep her happy. Your hard work does not go unnoticed, Y/n. Don’t think otherwise.”

You sniffle as you nod at him. “Okay.” Spencer puts a hand over your shoulder. “You’re doing just fine without him around.” He assures and you nod again, “How is it that you always know exactly what to say?”

Spencer simply shrugs, but you stare in awe. You’d had no idea that he thought you were amazing. And he told you you were a great mother. And by no means did you look from validation from a man but Spencer… he was different. Hearing this praise from him made you feel confident. And confident enough to do what you were about to do next.

You’d both been standing close so you don’t know exactly who initiated it or what but one second, you were staring at his lips and then next, they were on yours. And by the look on Spencer’s face, which was mostly laced with shock and confusion — you were the one that leaned in.

You quickly back up, “Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry.”

“Wait, Y/n—”

“We can totally forget that just happened.” You quickly look at your watch. “I need to— It’s time for Ellie to blow out her candles.”

You attempt to head back in your apartment when you feel Spencer grab you by your hand and twirl you around as your lips meet his again and this time, you melt into his touch. His hands are holding your face as he kisses you, so passionately you nearly want to lift your leg up like they do in the movies.

You pull away when it becomes a chore to breathe and you look at Spencer as he asks, “Can I take you out on a date sometime soon?” He asks and you smile with wide eyes and a small nod, “Okay.”

“We should probably go back in, Ellie’s probably waiting for cake.” Spencer reminds you and you nod, “Oh, right!”

You walk back into your apartment, Spencer behind you as you walk over to the cake and light the candles. Ellie is sat at the table with her friends and you place the cake in front of her with a large smile as you encourage everyone to begin to sing ‘happy birthday’.

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Ellie, happy birthday to you!” Ellie closes her eyes and makes a wish before she blows out her candles and you look up at Spencer with a large smile on your face.

“Alrighty, Ellie, cake or presents first?” You ask and Ellie cheers, “Presents! Presents!”

There was a whole table filled with presents just for your daughter. Penelope had begged for Ellie to open hers first and she’d received kinetic sand, a doodle pad and three squish-mallows. She was spoiled rotten, the girl. She’d received toys, more stuffed animals for her collection, pretty much everything she wanted. Spencer had been bringing the presents to her, putting them in front of her and watching them being demolished by Ellie. It was only a matter of time before one more present was left on the table.

“Oh, it looks like this one is from Spencer!” You exclaim, looking at the man with a guilty smile on his face and Ellie cheered as she began to unwrap her present and nearly shrieks when she sees what he got her.

“What is it, love?” You ask and Ellie smiles as she shows her friends. “Spencer got me a magic kit!” Spencer had indeed gotten her a magic kit. She’d had her very own cape, gloves, hat and trinkets. “Oh, and here!” Spencer reaches over, giving her his card deck. “But this is your card deck!”

“I know, but every great magician needs a good deck. And you have the greatest there is.” Spencer smiles and Ellie laughs, “Now, I can be just like you!” You look up at the man with a large smile and then back at Ellie, “What do you say, Ellie?”

“Thank you, Mr. Spencer!” Ellie says and Spencer nods, “Oh, of course, Ellie! Anything for you.” You look over at Spencer and he gives you a sly wink and you smirk his way and Ellie looks at you, “Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have some cake now?”

“Of course, princess.” You tell her and Spencer decides to help you with that as well.

Later, you’ll have to tell Ellie that her dad wasn’t able to make it but as far as you know, the whole thing with your ex is behind you. You occasionally steal glances from Spencer — who you’re going on a date with soon, you keep reminding yourself because it’s so weird to think — and smile to yourself in a way that makes you think how funny life is.

Spencer feels the same way, you think in your head. It’s so crazy to you that he does. And he kissed you. And he asked you on a date! Suddenly, the signs are clear like no other. He’s always liked you. He’s had to have. You look at him one more time and when you look up, he seems to already be staring at you and that just confirms it for you.

You are going on a date with Spencer Reid.

This should be interesting.

[insidekatmind]

A lovely chaos-Pope Heyward

Laughter bubbles uncontrollably in your throat as your hands grip the steering wheel of the Pogues’ beat-up van. Adrenaline rushes through your veins, and everything feels ridiculously funnier than usual. The wind blows through the rolled-down windows, mixing with the screams and hysterical laughter of your friends as they cling to anything they can to avoid being thrown around.

"BABE! PULL OVER!" Pope shouts, his voice full of panic as he clutches the passenger seat.

"AHHH!" Kiara, JJ, and John B scream in unison, swinging back and forth like rag dolls. JJ, who was laughing along with you just minutes ago, now has a shadow of concern in his eyes as he grips the headrest of the seat in front of him.

You, however, are too caught up in the moment to realize the chaos you're causing. Every turn feels like an adventure, every pothole an explosion of adrenaline. "I’m driving so well!" you exclaim through your laughter, your voice high-pitched and out of control.

"NO, YOU’RE NOT!" Kiara screams, her hair wild and covering half her face as she desperately tries to grab onto something stable.

You burst into laughter, your chest shaking uncontrollably, and without even realizing it, you press your foot harder on the gas pedal. The van lurches forward, speeding up as the road blurs around you. The laughter in your head drowns out everything else, and the chaos in the back feels like part of the thrill.

"BABE! SLOW DOWN!" Pope yells, his voice strained as he clings to the dashboard, wide-eyed.

"OH MY GOD!" Kiara shrieks, gripping the side of her seat as the van bounces over a bump. JJ’s laughter turns into nervous chuckles, and John B braces himself against the door, shouting something you can’t even hear over the wind and your own giggles.

The faster you go, the funnier everything seems. You don’t notice the van swerving slightly or the way your friends are being thrown around like loose luggage. For you, it’s just a ride, and in your current state, it’s the best one of your life.

"but it's funny" you say laughing like a little girl. All the Pogues seem to have a worried expression on their faces

"Hey, this might be fun for you but we're not. So please slow down," Kiara says

You giggle uncontrollably, your hands still gripping the steering wheel as the van zooms forward. The chaos in the back barely registers—Kiara screaming, Pope yelling, JJ and John B holding on for dear life. Everything feels like a game, like a scene out of a dream you’re not fully awake from.

But then, your eyes catch something in the distance. A dog. A fluffy, adorable dog trotting by the side of the road. Without thinking, you slam on the brakes. The tires screech, the van jerks violently, and your friends are thrown forward with a collective yell.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Pope shouts, his hands still braced against the dashboard.

Ignoring their protests, you throw the door open and jump out, stumbling slightly as your feet hit the ground. “It’s a dog!” you squeal, your face lighting up as you make a beeline toward the unsuspecting animal.

Behind you, the Pogues groan and scramble to recover from the sudden stop. “SHE JUST LEFT US!” Kiara exclaims, throwing her hands in the air.

“Why am I not even surprised?” JJ mutters, shaking his head, though there’s a small grin on his face as he watches you chase after the dog.

Kiara, Pope, JJ, and John B get out of the van and look at you with a mix of concern and annoyance. You approach the dog, your eyes wide with excitement. The dog turns to look at you, its tongue hanging out of its mouth.

"Babe, what was that all about?" Pope asks, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You almost gave us a heart attack."

You crouch down slowly, your knees wobbling a little as the world feels slightly off balance. The dog looks up at you, tail wagging cautiously, and you reach out to pet it with both hands, a goofy smile spreading across your face. The fur is soft under your fingertips, and you can’t help but giggle as the dog leans into your touch.

“Love,” you say softly, glancing over your shoulder at Pope with wide, adoring eyes. “Look how beautiful this dog is.”

Pope can't help but soften at your words. Even though he's still a bit frustrated from the sudden stop and the near-accident, seeing you so enamored with the dog makes his heart melt. He strolls up beside you and looks down at the dog with a smile.

"Yeah, it's a cute dog," he admits, his eyes flickering back to you. "But maybe next time, slow down a bit. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

You keep petting the dog, your fingers now scratching behind its ear. It seems to genuinely enjoy the attention, its tail wagging more enthusiastically."You have such a way with animals," Pope murmurs, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I guess that's just one of the things I love about you."

You look up at him, a happy smile on your face. The world around you seems to have slowed down a bit, the colors swirling together in a pleasantly dizzying way. You wonder if the weed is still making you feel giddy and carefree."Well, I think all animals love me," you reply, giggling. "Just like you do, right?"

Pope rolls his eyes playfully, a smirk on his lips. He reaches out and ruffles your hair."Yeah, I do love you. Even when you drive like a maniac and make us all almost get whiplash."

you smile sweetly and hug him. "love, I'm sleepy" you murmur softly into his chest. Pope wraps his arms around you, holding you close in an embrace. He can feel how loose and relaxed you are, thanks to the weed.

"Of course you are," he murmurs, a fond smile on his face. "You'll probably pass out any second now."

Kiara and JJ look at you and Pope with sweetly while John b smiles at you two. "let's get back in the van, this time I'll drive" says John b.

Pope nods in agreement, still holding you in a protective embrace. John B starts herding the group back to the van, while Kiara and JJ follow closely behind.”Yeah, maybe let's let someone else drive this time," Pope teases as he guides you back to the van.

you smile softly and Pope picks you up, and you cling to him like a Koala. Pope lets out a chuckle as you wrap your limbs around him, koala-style. He lifts you up effortlessly, making his way back to the van."You're like a little koala, clinging to me for dear life," he teases, a grin on his face.

You hum softly into Pope's chest as you and John b, JJ and Kiara walk into the van. Once in the van, everyone settles back into their seats. JJ and Kiara look on in amusement as you continue to cling onto Pope like a spider monkey."This is so cute it's almost nauseating," Kiara remarks with a grin, rolling her eyes.

Pope leans back in his seat, adjusting your weight on his lap. His arm draped around your waist, his fingers drawing small circles on your back."You're like a little koala that can't let go," he says again, his voice soft. Kiara and JJ give each other sly grins, watching the cutesy moment unfold.

You hold Pope closer and whisper "I love you" and then fall asleep. As you doze off, your head resting on Pope's chest, he can't help but smile. He looks down at you, admiring your peaceful expression as you sleep in his arms. Softly, he whispers back in your ear."I love you too, crazy koala-girl."

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Love like a Fairytale ˚₊‧ა❤︎

JJ Maybank x Fem!Virgin!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, heavy smut, minimal cursing, fluff, reader is a virgin, first time sex, fingering, size kink, corruption kink, friends to lovers, cum licking, way too many pet names

Word Count: 3.7k

Plot: JJ Maybank is your best friend. You find it hard to believe he could be anything more. But when you both confess love to each other, your world takes a romance-story like turn. You have no previous skill in dating, but JJ is more than willing to guide you along.

A/n: I think I went into a fever dream while writing this. Anyway, enjoy this soft!JJ moment! (P.S. Reader loves reading in this, so if you don’t pretend it’s your favorite video game or smth)

The sun dipped slowly behind the horizon. The trees in your yard shone with the orange-tinted light. Your legs swung back and forth as you sat on the hanging bench on your front porch, reading a book. A glass of lemonade, almost empty, sat by your feet on the wood floorboards. You were wearing a yellow checker-patterned dress that was tied with a white bow in the back.

You heard footsteps on the front walk and looked up. It was your best friend, JJ Maybank. Strands of his blonde hair, slightly tinted from the sun, hung into his eyes.

You waved to him and set the book down in your lap, smiling. He waved back and stepped onto the porch, his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

“What’s up?” He greeted you, his familiar voice a welcome sound in your ears.

You shrugged. “Just reading. What are you doing here?”

“I was bored.” He sat down on the bench next to you, resulting in you swinging back and forth a few times.

His eyes trailed over your dress quickly. “You look nice.” Just like JJ to compliment you. He was always nice to you.

“Thank you,” you replied. You had met JJ and his friend group of Pogues at school back in elementary, and you had hit it off from there. You can’t remember a summer you hadn’t spent with him going swimming and laughing at his bad jokes.

“The sunset is nice, isn’t it?” JJ looked out over the houses, where you could just make out the blue shimmer of the ocean.

Kind of reminded you of JJ’s eyes, which had just moved to look down at you.

“It is.” You looked away after a moment and back at your book, still open on your lap. “Would you like to hear about the book I’m reading?”

��Sure, why not.” This was another thing you had always liked about JJ. He always acted interested in the things you did, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy them himself, such as reading. No matter what it was, he still gave you his attention.

Reading was an activity you loved. It took you away to faraway places, where dragons, fairies, and witches were real. It had always been a comfort since your mom told you fairytales when you were younger.

You turned the cover over so he could see the front. “Okay, so…” You began telling him about the book, diving into the plot, the characters, the storytelling. JJ watched you intently the entire time, nodding here and there and asking questions. Another person might have gotten tired of hearing you chat on and on, but with JJ he would pay attention to you for hours. You always felt comfortable with him, like all of your worries and self-consciousness had drifted away.

When you finished your explanation, JJ grinned at you. “Thanks for telling me about this book. You really know how to make someone feel part of a tale.”

You felt yourself blush slightly. “No problem. You probably have to go, don’t you?” 

JJ nodded, his gaze lingering for a few seconds longer. “I should get going then. See you tomorrow.” He got up off of the bench and left down the street. You watched him go until he was too far away to see. His face was still fresh in the front of your mind.

You saw JJ again the next day, reading the same book on the porch in the heat of the afternoon.

He smiled at you as he joined you in your favorite sitting place. “Hey there. Care to catch me up on that great book you’re working on?”

“Of course.” Your cheeks flushed a little as you turned to the book in your hands. You started describing the new chapter to him and the events that had unfolded since you left off with him yesterday.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur with JJ while he watched and listened calmly. By the time you stopped talking, the sun had already begun to set.

JJ checked his watch then looked back at you apologetically. “I’ve got to head home right about now. I’ll see you around, ‘aight?”

You nodded. “See ya.” There was something warm simmering in his eyes as they met yours. It matched the feeling in your chest. Before you could decipher what it was, he tore away from your gaze and walked away from you down the concrete path.

You couldn’t speak. Something about him left you speechless and pondering long after you spent time alone together.

You sipped your soda at a table in the local fast-food restaurant with your friend, Kiara. You hands were folded underneath your chin.

Kiara munched on a cardboard container of fries. “So I heard JJ’s been coming over recently. What’s that all about?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. I’ve been telling him about the books I’ve been reading.”

“Really? Because he sure visits an awful lot. And you’re the only one he seems to want to talk to nowadays.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

“Oh, c’mon, just admit you like him already. It’s pretty obvious you guys are a thing.” Kiara teased.

Your head snapped up to look at her, shocked. “I— no, we’re just friends, I promise. That’s all,” you said firmly.

She sighed and shook her head. “Whatever you say.”

There was an uneasy emotion in your gut. You and JJ had always been best friends, nothing more. You would admit, over the years of evenings spent in each others presence, you had grown closer. But you didn’t have much experience with relationships in the first place. How would you know if he liked you?

Kiara’s words rang in your head as you lay in bed that night. What if she was right after all, and the countless times you saw that look in JJ’s eyes, tender and longing, and he brought over your favorite candies and the new novel by your favorite author when you were sick, had all meant he had fallen for you?

Or, a voice in your head said, you were delusional. Which was likely. Why would someone like JJ like you? You weren’t pretty enough. You weren’t smart enough. You weren’t good enough for anyone. But what if… what if you were good enough for him? 

Your heart wanted you to believe. But you couldn’t. Not until you knew for sure.

It was beach day for the Pogues. The sun was shining and most of your friends were catching the waves, surfing while shouting “Woo!” and laughing whenever someone wiped out.

Not you and JJ though. You were sitting on a beach towel facing the ocean, the seagulls squawking and trying to get into the sandwiches in your bag. You shooed them away, purposely scooting further away from JJ as you did so. You hadn’t been talking to him for the most part. You were afraid. Afraid to ask him about his feelings for you. It was embarrassing. And you couldn’t do it.

JJ noticed your silence. “What’s wrong? You’ve been less talkative than I’m used to you being, princess.” The way the nickname slid so easily off his tongue made your heart stutter in your chest.

Your tongue tied in your mouth. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. Your courage had left you wholeheartedly. Could it be because… you were scared what his reaction would be?

You forced yourself to look at him. His blue eyes, always so bright, reflected your own. The concern that had fallen over his expression gave you the push you needed. “Can… can I ask you a question, JJ?”

“Whatever you need, cupcake.” There. Another nickname. Your breath felt like it had been sucked out of your lungs. You mustered up all you had as your fingers dug into the coarse sand.

“Do you like me?” You blurted out. JJ looked taken aback. He was at a loss for words. Then, slowly, he softened.

“Y/n, I… I have for the longest time. Ever since that day, when we were at that party, and you were in that dress, with the light from the disco ball shining in your hair, I wanted so badly to be with you. Since I first saw you, actually. More than… more than anything.” His voice wavered. There were so many emotions spilling out of him at the same time. You were speechless. His eyes held nothing but genuine love and gentleness towards you.

Your shoulders felt weak. You sat frozen an inch from JJ’s face, feeling like your spirit was drifting away like a bird. As his words sunk in you came to.

“JJ, I— I think I like you too.” There was hesitation in your voice, but you were certain of the meaning in your words. You didn’t know how your relationship with JJ would change, or what would happen, but now you knew you were meant to be with him. Maybe you always were.

JJ’s arms wrapped around you, and you flung yourself into him, letting the feel of his heartbeat take you away. The smell of him, warm and like the sea breeze, comforted you. 

Just then Pope walked up the shore. “Uh, did I miss something?” He asked in confusion at the two of you embracing. Kiara walked up behind him.

“They do this all the time, trust me,” she assured Pope then winked at you. You blushed redder than you had in your life. She knew. Then again, you reasoned as JJ’s hand brushed against yours, you didn’t care too much.

It was like your life had taken a turn and became one of the romance stories you engulfed yourself in. Except it was real. You were Cinderella and JJ Maybank was Prince Charming. Your Prince Charming. Your head was always in the clouds now, dreaming about those sea-blue eyes and the affirmations he had spoken to you that you hardly believed even now. 

This was love? If so, you never wanted to fall out of it.

Your phone rang in the other room, taking your attention from your thoughts. You went into the dining room where it was sitting in the middle of the table. You picked it up and saw it was JJ. Excited, you hit the answer button and held the receiver to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, sunbeam.” JJ’s voice came from the other end. Your heart picked up its speed.

“Hi, Jay.”

“Are you home right now? I was wondering if I could, you know, come over.”

“Yes, I’m home. Why do you want to come over?” You asked shyly.

“I want to see you. Can I come right now?”

“Yeah.” What would the harm be? You wanted to see him too.

“Awesome. Your parents aren’t home, are they?”

“No, not right now. Why?” You questioned.

“Oh, no reason. Just wondering. See ya soon.” There was no way JJ was going to tell you the real reason he wanted to make sure you were alone. Not when he wasn’t even there with you yet.

After you hung up, you went into your bedroom to look in your mirror. Did you look good enough? You smoothed down your hair and adjusted your shirt, which was a pale pink today. You had put on a bit of makeup earlier when you had woken up, and you checked to make sure nothing was smudged. 

When you were satisfied with your appearance, you sat down on a couch in the living room to wait for JJ. Nervously, you played with your thumbs and watched out the window continuously.

When you finally saw JJ coming up the driveway, you stood up and opened the door for him happily. He beamed at you as he entered your living room. “Good to see you, baby.” 

You felt yourself turning pink again. But you beamed back. Then you gasped as he picked you up and swung you into his arms, where you giggled in your bridal-style position. He leaned down and pecked you on the lips. A sigh left your mouth without meaning to. JJ laughed and put you down on the couch.

“So what do you have planned for us?” He asked casually.

You hadn’t thought about that, you realized. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“I’ve got a couple ideas,” he murmured lowly as he pulled you into him suddenly and pressed his lips to yours once more. You leaned back on the couch as euphoric sensations ran up and down your body. Now he was on top of you, kissing you again and again and muttering “I love your lips so much” during short breaths of air.

You had never experienced something like this before. Even a week ago you never would have guessed you would end up here, JJ kissing you feverishly and making you feel like the only girl in the world.

JJ pulled away, making you whine in protest. You found yourself wanting more.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I… I know we just started dating and all that, but I was wondering if… you wanted to try something new?” There was a flicker of apprehension in his gaze and something else that you couldn’t quite read. 

“Something new?” You asked, wide-eyed gaze searching and curious.

JJ scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Have you… had sex with someone before?”

Sex? It was a foreign concept to you. You hadn’t been to many parties, and the only boys you knew well were Pope, John B, and of course JJ. An idea as broad and unknown to you as sex was one you’d never considered. The thought rarely even crossed your innocent mind.

“What?” You were confused.

JJ looked guilty. “Shit, never mind. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I completely understand. It’s just… no, no. I know it’s still early.”

You let yourself mull over his words for a few moments. Then, gradually, you shook your head. “No. It’s just I’ve never tried it before, that’s all. I’m willing to do it with you.” You looked up at him with certainty, pushing away your doubts. You loved him, and you wanted this. More than anything, you told yourself.

“Are you sure?” JJ was taken by surprise.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Alright then,” he said softly, moving closer to you again. He kissed you more slowly this time, peppering your jawline with kisses and drawing out a mewl from you. His hands moved underneath your shirt and stopped before they lifted it up. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked again, his eyes nitpicking for any form of uncertainty.

“I’m sure.” The fabric was lifted over your head, then the clips of your bra were undone as he removed it delicately. You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed breasts.

JJ’s eyes widened as he took in your chest in its full glory. “You— you look like an angel,” he breathed out. He had, without admitting it, pictured in his head many times what you looked like, but he hadn’t expected you to look nearly this good. Restraining himself from tearing the rest of your clothes off you, he gently slid your shorts down your legs and stared in awe and amusement at the wetness that had soaked through your panties.

Your gorgeous eyes were filled with a trust that made his heart ache. So much that it almost him regret what he was about to do to you. Almost was the key word.

You weren’t used to being this bare in front of anyone. You were chilly except for a heat pooling between your legs. You trusted JJ, though, and were sure that he would never do anything to hurt you.

JJ pulled off his t-shirt, showing off his toned and tanned chest, abs and all. Even though you saw it frequently at the beach and pool, drool collected at the corner of your mouth.

Your thighs pressed together, making you wonder why. JJ unbuttoned his shorts next, and when he took off his boxers, the place in between your legs throbbed. You hadn’t seen his cock before, but now you wanted to suck it, lick it, feel it. And it was so big… and it looked like it was hardening, too, as he focused on you.

And hard he was. “Okay, baby, first I have to get myself ready for you.”

“Okay.” You responded instinctively, unable to take your eyes from his erection.

He chuckled and started to fist his cock, up and down and picking up pace. Pre-cum leaked from the tip and landed on the rug. A small moan left his lips and the hotness between your thighs heightened.

Your impatience was growing. You didn’t quite know what you were waiting for, but you needed it, and soon. “J— JJ,” you complained.

“Mmm, doll?” Sweat dripped down JJ’s forehead as he continued to stroke himself.

“I— I need you,” you stammered. You didn’t care if how dirty you sounded anymore. In fact, you think JJ liked it…

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you,” JJ was turned on immensely by your pleading. He finished pumping his dick and moved to join you on the sofa, directly above you.

You stared up at him, desire thick in the air between you. It was in your breath, your soul, your blood.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked in a gentle manner. No matter how much lust was bending him to you right now, he wanted to be sure you were comfortable. You were a virgin, after all. 

“Please,” you whimpered. Immediately you felt JJ’s fingers make contact with your clit. Your mouth dropped open at the feel. He made circles on your sex, stimulating you and gathering the wetness that had been accumulating for several minutes. You moaned out loud, and you slapped your hand over your mouth, ashamed. JJ removed it without pause.

“Don’t you dare, beautiful. I want to hear your sounds.” You obliged, gasping more and more as the pleasure down below built. He slipped his pointer finger inside you, doubling the volume of your cries. He added a second finger and found your particularly sensitive spot that made you squirm. He hit the same spot over and over again. Your hips bucked up involuntarily into his touch. JJ smirked at how your body seemed to react seamlessly to his every move. 

You cried out as the pleasure took over your body, riding over you in waves and racking you with violent shudders. You had never felt pure bliss like this in your life. It was better than any fairytale you had ever read or heard. But it would be nothing compared to JJ’s cock, which he was lining up carefully with your waiting pussy.

His tip pushed lightly into your entrance, and you whined. “It’s okay, baby. You can take me,” he encouraged you. He groaned as he slid further inside you, stretching you out bit by bit. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” The way you were squeezing around him was driving him insane.

Your head fell back onto the pillow as he reached the deepest point inside of you. Your walls clenched and fluttered around him. He sputtered your name while he watched his length disappear almost to his balls.

JJ rolled his hips, keeping a steady rhythm, cautious not to push you too far. The movement made your mind hazy. You could no longer think straight. 

“You doing alright?” JJ asked you in between ragged gasps, his voice deep and husky. Your breathing was faster than if you had been running for miles. “Don’t stop!” you begged in response as you came again, calling him by name.

Your voice was music to JJ’s ears. It was the only thing he wanted to hear, ever. He would fall asleep to it, get drunk on it, get himself off with it every hour of the week.

You bit down on JJ’s shoulder, making him grunt at the sting. He barely noticed the pain however. He was drinking in how your hips snapped in unison with his and your back arched backwards perfectly.

This was your first time sleeping with each other, but already neither of you wanted to cease the harmony you created. JJ pulled out just as cum spurted forward from his cock. It landed on your belly and breasts; some even landed on your face. Closing your eyes you licked it from around your mouth. The liquid you couldn’t reach you reached up and collected on your fingers, then sucked it off. He tasted salty with a hint of creaminess. You decided that it was your new favorite taste.

JJ watched you do this with his eyes blown with newfound obsession and arousal. You were no longer the innocent girl he knew. He found he liked this version of you better. Once you finished lapping up his release, he slammed back into you, no longer being gentle. He thrusted in and out hard, making a different kind of ecstasy. Bolts of lightning traveled through your veins at the speed of light. This was so good. Better, even.

“Sh— shit.” JJ let out a curse. The two of you came again quickly, at the same time. Your face was buried in your pillow and sweat, tears, and cum covered your skin.

JJ, hair messier and stringier than usual, got up off the couch, taking all his strength not to pass out. He found a cloth in your kitchen drawer and ran it under the sink. Coming back into the room, he used it to wipe you off, rolling you over with care and cleaning your thighs and stomach.

Gratefully you batted your eyelashes up at him. He felt adoration blossom in his chest and kissed your forehead. “Feeling ‘aight?”

“So tired. But better than since I was born. Thank you, JJ.” You meant it. Now that you knew what sex with him was like, you were never turning back.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Now since your body isn’t used to this sort of thing, it might be a ‘lil sore in the morning. Mind if I stay the night to make sure you’re all taken care of?” His voice was convincing, and full of affection.

“I don’t mind.” You wouldn’t say no to spending a sweet night with JJ. You were certain your parents wouldn’t mind.

Header: saradika-graphics

Tag list: @idfcaboutaname, @dirtyslag96, @gillybear17, @agnxstic, @scrappybear89, @redhead1180, @k-k0129, @lucifersgirl, @immyowndefender, @eddxemxnson, @siriusly0guys, @outerb4nkss, @lanasturns3, @code-canine, @diffidentphantom

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Comfort Headcanons for Frank, Matt, and Mikey

A/n: so I am ridiculously overwhelmed by personal and political stuff right now. And I told myself I was going to write every day this week if possible, but my brain was being difficult today. So instead of working on a longer fic I wrote some self-indulgent headcanons about Frank, Matt, and Mikey caring for an overwhelmed partner. I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to send me other headcanon requests!

How would they’d react to you being overwhelmed

Frank

Frank would pick up on this IMMEDIATELY

the second your self care habits change, he’s onto you. You stay up later than normal two nights in a row, or run out the door with a granola bar instead of eating a real breakfast, and he is concerned™️

He’s willing to entertain it for three days max. He knows life gets tough sometimes, and he doesn’t want to encroach on your process—but we all know that once this man is worried, he’s minutes away from taking control. He has issues but we love him for it.

On the 4th day, when you’re waking up exhausted after far too little sleep and rejecting his offer to take you out for breakfast, he puts his foot down.

“Gonna order in for dinner tonight, ok? We can watch that movie you wanted to see and turn in early.”

You hastily agree, bolting out the door before you end up late to your job.

When you finally arrive home, he’s all over you in an instant. Murmuring his hellos while helping you out of your coat and shoes, ushering you over the couch.

He’s insisting that you sit in his lap while the two of you pick out dinner, offering suggestions for restaurants instead of leaving the choice open-ended. Given how tired and generally stressed you seem, he wants to take as much weight off your shoulders as possible.

Once dinner has been ordered, he tucks you close to his chest, practically burying you in a jumble of muscular limbs, humming appreciatively when you nuzzle further into his space. His hand is cupped around your nape, thumb gently brushing over your spine as you hunch toward him.

“Ready to talk about what’s botherin’ ya, doll?” The question leaves room to decline, but his stern tone suggests you choose to answer.

He listens carefully as you tell him what’s on your mind, brushing silent kisses against your forehead whenever your breath wavers around a stifled sob. His hands never move from your skin, cradling you to him like he’s trying to absorb your pain.

He wouldn’t let you lift a finger the rest of the night. Retrieving the take out, dishing it up for you, drawing you a bath, tucking you into bed

When you’re beginning to drift off atop his giant shoulder, he’d rest his forehead against yours.

“I know it’s tough right now. But we’ll get through. I promise.”

“Please don’t leave, Frank.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll.”

Matt

Matt isn’t as observant of your habits and routines, but he can sure as hell pick up changes in body language.

Gritting teeth, blinking back tears, frustrated sighs—he notices all of it. He might not act on it immediately, brushing it off when you explain that you just had a bad day, but when your fatigue and growing apathy persist…

I think you hiding something from him would spook him for sure, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be determined to get answers out of you. He’d set his personal anxieties aside and prepare for a serious talk.

He’d leave the office somewhat early, asking you to meet him at his apartment. He’d offer you a beer, or whatever you were in the mood for (if his lacking fridge and pantry allowed for it), and he’d ask you the big question.

“You aren’t yourself lately. What’s going on?”

He’s not happy when you start crying, but he’s definitely relieved when you collapse into his arms and explain your recent mood. Even more so when you confess it had nothing to do with him.

As always, he harbors immense guilt for not being there, not being endlessly supportive, not being able to solve the issues gnawing at you with his own two fists.

But what he doesn’t realize is that he’s helping just by being there. By being present and absentmindedly squeezing you with his tree-trunk arms. By acknowledging your struggles and offering what he could.

He’d cut his patrols short for a few days, nearly begging you to sleep at his loft instead of in your own bed, so he could keep a metaphorical eye on you. He sleeps better with you by his side anyway.

Mikey

You’re Michael’s whole world, so he’d know you were overwhelmed before you realized it yourself.

As soon as he spotted the stress lines on your face, he’d be on his feet, trying his best to lighten the burden.

He’d walk you to and from work, as always, maybe even stopping by to keep you company on your lunch hour.

When he wasn’t with you, or ignoring his family, he’d be constantly cleaning the house and working through your joint to do list, taking task after task off your plate so you could properly decompress.

He wouldn’t pressure you to talk to him about it, but he’d give you the option.

“I’m here if ya want to talk, pet. Anytime ya need.”

And, of course, you’d take him up on it. Explaining that you could handle everything and you didn’t want him to overwhelm himself trying to help you because it was just a pile of small things that were wearing you down. But he’d have none of it.

“I wanna do this fer ya. Let me help, love.”

He’d bundle you in a knit blanket on the couch and set the tv to your favorite show, kissing the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to clean up after dinner.

I hope you enjoyed! And I hope you’re all doing ok this week. It’s rough out there.

[cokoweee]

COKO. Dude. This latest update- Holy MONKEY FEATHERS.

Let’s begin cause there’s a LOT TO COVER HEHEHEH~

Firstly

LOOK AT THIS MAN’S EXPRESSION. Just- FRIGGIN LOOK AT IT. He’s blushing, he’s tense, he’s confused and flattered and weirded out, and happy- This man don’t know what emotions are and he just got hit by a truck full of them.

And AGAIN- KENDRA IS COMPLETELY INEBRIATED- She will most likely not even REMEMBER THIS MOMENT- Will Donnie tell her? Will this be a hilarious story that causes an argument later down the lines in their marriage?

WHO KNOWS. 🤷‍♀️ And it DOESN’T END THERE-

Not ONLY is Donnie flying through the five stages of grief like a boss level mini game- but Kendra, even in her drunken state, noticed that Donnie had that dumb makeup on him to cover up his markings for the party. And she just- gently- caresses his cheek to wipe it off.

Yeah, Donnie’s gonna die from either too much happiness or being way too flustered. Either way-

Awwwwwwwwww 💜

NEXT.

Despite being completely paralyzed in fear love, Donnie’s gaze quickly makes its way to where Big Mama and Frida are. And what does he see that gives him this horrified of an expression?

OH- SHEEEELLLLLL NO.

So, like the reasonable turtle mutant Donnie is, he gingerly picks up Kendra and leaves the party.

Also can we just study this anatomy for a second cause GUYS- as an artist myself this kind of posing and proportions is NOT EASY TO DO. So-

👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

WELL DONE, COKO!!!!!

Ok, so after they make their way back to their room, Donnie plops Kendra into bed. We’ve seen this before- he’s never gentle, literally throwing her and it’s absolutely hilariou-

… Expectation SUBVERSION- the SWEETEST I’ve ever seen. 🥹 Donnie’s being so gentle with her what the HECK DJFUJWVXMISUDHWBSUW I adore these two- they love each other so much- caring for each other despite their qualms and history- AAAAAA ITS SO GOOOOOOD!!!

And now that Kendra is safe and away from Big Mamas prying eyes, Donnie has time to ABSOLUTELY FREAK OUT.

THIS DUDE went from feeling nothing to feeling EVERYTHING. And we get to watch and die laughing at his expense~ *WHEEEEEEZE*

This dude is totally broken HAAAA

Alright- with emotions and feelings and imagination WAY TOO HIGH, Donnie tries to distract himself.

The comedy in this chapter is just top tier~ I was at work when I read it the first time, and I broke out laughing and wheezing. (So grateful I work alone HA)

And just when Donnie thinks he’s in the clear-

*Chaos Gremlin chortling sounds* Coko, you absolute GENIUS- HAHAHAHA- I love that you simply allow the audience to imagine what Donnie saw- No one needs to outright say it, we all just know. And it’s utterly hilarious.

Donnie’s never gonna recover from that brain poof- You can just see all of his brain cells and bad boy image DISSOLVE in an instant at such a sight. 🤣 HIS HAIR EVEN CURLED UP- HIS EYES ARE BUGGING OUT- HAHAHA THIS DUDE’S brain went from dead to running a marathon in a MILLISECOND.

Alright, I think this has gotten long enough, so I’ll stop there. 😅 Amazing work, Coko!!! I am VERY excited to see what happens next!

~ Melissa

AUUUGGHHH ill never tire of these asks pointing out the little things cause yall almost always get like 80% of the lil things i slap in updates

THANKS FOR SEEING MY EFFORT IN THAT PANEL! THAT ANATOMY WAS A BITCH.

While sketching the update I may have been watching some goofy shows and movies so influence from those was high. Figuring out ways to show without showing what was going on took longer than expected but HEY! YALL GOT THE IDEA SO SWAG.

If my shoulder stops hurting I might have the next update by morning. Im gettin a lil too excited for what’s next. Already picked an emoji for the next chapter thing

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLVII)

Chapter 47: ‘To whom I owe the leaping delight that quickens my senses in our wakingtime and the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! A short but sweet chapter!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 1696

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

A Dedication to my Wife

To whom I owe the leaping delight That quickens my senses in our wakingtime And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime, The breathing in unison Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech And babble the same speech without need of meaning. No peevish winter wind shall chill No sullen tropic sun shall winter The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only But this dedication is for others to read: These are private words addressed to you in public.

T.S Eliot, Collected Poems

Andrew was locked up in his office again.

It happened often these days, and you wondered why. You guessed that he must have a heavy workload, after all it would soon be the season for final exams, and you were pretty busy too.

Still, this week he had spent most of his evenings in that room after dinner, staying up late enough for you not to notice when he finally came to bed.

And he looked tired. He wasn’t sleeping enough, and the dark circles under his eyes were a visible sign. He didn’t seem sad though, and he was still as loving with you, still affectionate. Still, you hoped that he wasn’t fleeing you, for some reason.

It had been going on for two weeks, and you were resolute in asking him what he was doing during all those long hours.

He heaved a tired sigh as he entered the kitchen, Elwood in tow, and he bent to pet your dog before turning to you and wrapping his arms around your frame. It was quite late already, dinner was almost ready. Nothing complicated, it was a Thursday night after all, and nor you nor Andrew were in the mood to make some complex recipe. He had offered to order something, but a simple pasta recipe would do, you had the ingredients for it, and you had offered to prepare dinner for tonight.

Andrew buried his face into your neck, holding you tight, pressing your back against his chest. Outside, it was heavily raining, you had turned on the lights. The regular pattern of the falling rain was mixed with Elwood’s heavy breathing behind Andrew.

“It smells delicious, my love,” Andrew whispered into the skin at the base of your neck, where it connected with your shoulder, and it sent delightful shivers down your spine.

“Thanks. Nothing fancy, though.”

“Thanks for cooking. I didn’t have it in me tonight.”

“That’s alright.”

He had just taken a shower, wearing now his plaid pyjamas, and his wet hair dripping all over his shoulders and wetting your t-shirt. You didn’t mind though.

“What about we watch a movie after dinner?” you offered, but you felt him tensing behind you.

“Yeah…”

“You can say no, if you don’t feel like it,” you chuckled.

“I just… I have something I want to finish first.”

You nodded, but remained silent. He heaved a sigh, and it was his turn to notice that you were tensing.

“I’m sorry…”

He didn’t offer any explanation though, so you had to go fishing for it.

“What are you working so hard on, anyway?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re always working these days. Is it your research? Or is it your classes?”

He remained silent for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he spoke again, quiet and soft, almost afraid.

“Am I really spending that much time working?”

It was a genuine question, asking for your opinion, his tone let you know that he wasn’t trying to fight you back. On the contrary, he opened his hand to splay his fingers across your stomach, the touch soothing, anchoring you in his hold.

“Kind of. For the last couple of weeks… yeah… you’re working a lot. I’m a little worried, to be honest.”

“No need to be worried, I’m fine,” he reassured you. “I’m just busy.”

He let out a long exhale, moving his head to rest his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m not neglecting you, am I?” he asked with genuine worry in his voice. “I know how I can be sometimes, I’m… I’m terrible at balancing work and love.”

You moved out of his embrace to put the pasta in the boiling water.

“No… but I… have I done something wrong? Are you angry with me?”

He frowned hard.

“No, of course not.”

“So… you’re not fleeing me.”

“Fleeing you? Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You work a lot more than usual, I… I’m worried you could be avoiding me.”

“I’m not. I’m not avoiding you at all, I…”

He heaved another sigh, and he looked so tired all of a sudden. But he didn’t seem sad, he had a smile on his lips.

“I… I’m writing. A lot. That’s all.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Like I… I’m trying to make sense of all the work I’ve been doing these past four years,” he explained. “And I…”

He stopped, and turned around in a hurry. He almost ran to his office, while Elwood was staying in the kitchen with you. All you could do was stare at the empty kitchen, blinking your puzzlement away.

Elwood let out a whine, trying to get a treat, and you mindlessly gave him a tiny piece of food.

And then Andrew was back, his laptop in hand. He made room for it on the table.

“You can look,” he said, nervously rubbing the skin behind his ear. “It’s not completely finished, but… I’m close. You can read it if you want.”

You walked closer to the computer, read the title on the first page.

Unreal Unearth

Poetry by Andrew Hozier-Byrne

You looked up at him again, smiling now.

“So… you’re finishing up a new book? That’s why you’ve been so busy?”

“Yeah… babe, I’m… I’m sorry, I know I haven’t spent a lot of quality time with you these past couple of weeks, but I really want to get the first version done, so I can send it to my agent and my editor.”

“That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me about it sooner? That’s exciting!”

He stared at you for a moment, and then he reached for the laptop, changed the page.

For Y/N, who’s love guided me through the nine circles.

You stared at the letters, read them again and again. But they were still there, printed in pixels on the screen.

Slowly, you turned to Andrew, who had a shy smile on his lips.

“So… your poems are about me? The… the poems you want to be published… are about me?”

He chuckled.

“Only the nice ones,” he admitted. “It covers the last four years, so…”

“Hmm… break-up hell too.”

“Yeah… but not just that. Most of them are about you. And even those that aren’t about you… I’ve organised it thinking of you.”

“A favourite that I should read first?”

He rubbed his cheek for a moment, thinking hard.

“I don’t know if it’s a favourite but…”

He looked for a precise title, and let out a satisfied hum when he found it.

Francesca

“Naming it after another woman… doesn’t start so well,” you teased, trying to hide how fast your heart was beating at the thought that he had written about you.

He laughed at that.

“Do we know a Francesca?” you asked, but Andrew nodded.

“You like her a lot.”

You frowned, silently encouraging him to go on. He nervously rubbed at his neck.

“I… I’ve tried to structure it using Dante’s view of hell.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

“But you… It’s… I love this book…”

“I know.”

“So… Francesca, after…”

“Francesca da Rimini, yes.”

You didn’t say anything, merely stared at him for a moment, and then looked down at the laptop again. And as you read, you could feel tears rising, overflowing at the corners of your eyes.

If someone asked me at the end

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again

I would still be surprised I could find you

In any life

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I would do it again

“You… you wrote that about me?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Yeah.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course, I do.”

“You’re insane.”

He laughed while you read the rest of the poem.

I would not change it each time

Heaven is not fit to house a love

Like you and I

You remained silent for a moment, trying to process his words. The scholar in you was dragging your attention towards the beauty of the text, the references, the balance of fiction and truth…

… but all your brain could really register for now was that he had written this for you. That he wanted to publish it in a book he was organising after one of your favourite pieces of literature, with your name written on it.

You looked up at him, dried your cheeks.

“You… you’re okay?” he asked.

You nodded, before rushing into his arms.

“I love you, you know? I love you so much,” you mumbled into his chest, making him smile.

“Of course, I know. And I love you too. I love you.”

“It’s so beautiful, Andy.”

“Thanks. So… you like it?”

You laughed.

“Like it?! You’ve basically professed your undying love to me in one of the most beautiful poems I’ve ever read, of course, I don’t like it. I adore it.”

He rolled his eyes, holding you close still.

“Right, still going strong on the encouragement, I see...”

“I’m being honest.”

“You hype me up too much.”

“No, I don’t. You just can’t take a bloody compliment.”

He laughed, but couldn’t find an argument.

“Are you gonna work on it after dinner?” you asked.

“Nah… for tonight, I’d rather spend some quality time with my muse.”

You were about to protest, but glanced over at the laptop again.

At your feet, Elwood was rubbing his body against your and Andrew’s legs.

“I’m your muse…”

“Of course, you are. Who else could it be, but the love of my life?”

You closed your eyes, grinning at his words, feeling the warmth of happiness spread through your heart, radiate through your entire chest, and you noticed that the feeling had never felt so vibrant before, so absolute, so overwhelming.

Meanwhile, Andrew was letting relief wash over him, holding you tight, pressing his lips to your hair and breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

And he thought of the ring he had hidden in his office, and how much he wanted to see it on your finger for the rest of your lives.

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

005 》 HAN JISUNG

you needed a night out, you needed to have fun— at least that’s what yunho told you. when chan invites your group to a music festival where his curly headed roommate would also be, will it be what you need to get you back on track? or will you start from square one, again?

wc 15.5k my bad y’all its getting serious now | drinking, smoking, kissing, suggestive, music festival vibes, sadness, tiny gets fucked up. vomit but not descriptive. hanjis sexy

“have you guys ever thought about your wedding?” 

of course you thought about getting married, your wedding, every little girl does— walking down the aisle next to her father, meeting the love of her life at the altar… all of it seemed so futile after your father passed, you haven’t thought about it as a true reality since then, more of a pipedream.

you didn’t know if you were simply driving yourself insane or if you really were obsessed with mingyu, but every single waking thought you’ve had since saturday was about getting married, knowing you were nowhere near that stage of your life but for some reason… questioning it. maybe even excited for it. 

everything with mingyu has felt meant to be so far… maybe it was.

the entire table looked at you in silence– eight pupils staring into your soul, wondering where the fuck that came from. yunho was quick to shut you down. 

“i don’t even want to ask, tiny.”

“i’m serious! have you even considered what you’d want in a partner? what your wedding would look like?” you were in dreamland, sparkles in your eyes and everything as you stared up at the high ceilings of your kitchen. yeosang and san had brought over dinner, which led to the five of you seated on barstools around your kitchen island in silence, up until now. 

“sexy and rich,” yeosang didn’t even look up, mouth full as he digged deeper into his meal. 

san nodded in agreement– “my wedding will be big enough to make everyone attending jealous, small enough to make others wish they were invited.”

“you’re both shallow,” you grumble, picking at your plate, moving your food around. you glance at your twin, “ace, what about you? do you think reia’s the one?” 

ace lets out a nervous chuckle, one that sounds exactly like yours, “i– uh, maybe. possible.”

you pop a brow, sitting back in your stool, straightening your back. you weren’t the only one that picked up on it, the entire table noticed his shift in energy, the change in tone. yunho asks, “what’s going on?”

ace groans in defeat when there was never an argument to begin with, elbows hitting the granite, palms digging into his eyes. “i think reia’s going to break up with me.” 

“why?” your voice is loud, surprised. you take it down a notch, “what happened?” 

he leans back, moving his hands away from his face and you notice that he looks tired. bags under his eyes, his skin looked dull, his freckles weren’t freckling like they usually did. you blamed it on school and the stress he’d been under– you didn’t think reia had anything to do with it. last time you checked, how ace felt about reia is how you felt about mingyu. 

“she’s been saying shit like how i’m not giving her enough attention, not seeing her enough, all i care about is school and when i’m not doing homework i’m with you guys,” he huffs, his voice sounding weak now that he’s finally admitting it. 

“why doesn’t she come hangout with us?” yeosang asked, but you were sure that’s what you were all thinking. “she’s usually here all the time, and your workload for school hasn’t changed.”

“i guess she’s been feeling this way for awhile,” ace stretched his arms over his head, lifting his eyebrows, expression saying he’s had this conversation already– with her. “we don’t have enough one on one time.”

yunho leans over the counter, palm holding up his baseball cap covered head, “get an airbnb for a weekend, take her somewhere nice, just the two of you. she’s probably feeling underappreciated and overwhelmed with her own schoolwork.” 

“that’s actually a good idea,” ace marvels, a semblance of light returning to his eyes, “you’re so good with girls, bro. incredible how you’re still single.” 

yunho smiles, “incredible how i manage to fight ‘em off me.” 

yeosang rolls his eyes, “can we circle back to why teens is asking about marriage?” 

“no,” the three boys say in unison, all eyes landing on yeosang.

“okay, fine, riddle me this,” yeosang sits a little straighter, index finger pointing to the air in front of him, “tiny, whose never gone on a date before a month ago, shows up to dinner with her prehistoric boyfriend and starts talking about marriage. no one wants to ask any questions?” 

you gasp, “yeosang! he is not—”

“that’s actually a good point,” san shrugs, “we haven’t talked about him yet.”

“how old is he anyways?” yunho asks, both elbows on the table now, long fingers folded over one another on the top of his palms. 

your cheeks flush, near mumbling as you redirect your attention back to the food in front of you, hoping no one notices the warmth on your skin. you were waiting for this question, scared of this question. “thirty.” 

“tiny.” ace’s tone is firm, disappointed even if he only said your name— the underlying message is clear to you. you break your staring contest with your plate to look up to him, there are a million words on his tongue, but he says none of them. 

your face burned in embarrassment, you were scrambling for something to say, small tuts leaving your lips instead. you didn’t know how to defend it, defend him— you were still debating it yourself. they didn’t know this was currently a sensitive topic, that you’d been non stop questioning your relationship with mingyu for almost forty eight hours, worried that it won’t work out because of that very reason. 

san giggles, “we knew you had daddy issues, teens, would’ve never expected you to fuck someone old enough to be one. props to you, actually.” 

your world went silent, the insult flipping a switch within you. your train of thought skipped right past anger to hurt, tears quickly filling your eyes. you fled from the kitchen— two palms flat on the granite countertop pushed you off of your stool, legs racing through your hallway. you only heard yunho scold san with a stern drag of his name as your legs took you to up your bedroom, locking the door behind you. 

that wasn’t the conversation you intended to open by asking that question. you were once again putting your foot in your mouth, regretting sharing your thoughts, it was as if san had that statement locked and loaded–– ready to hit its target. your boys had always said whatever they thought, feelings be damned, you forgot how much it hurt to be on the receiving end. 

it felt like you were younger when they’d tease you relentlessly, only stopping when ace made them. you haven’t felt that way in a long time, their teasing now was lighthearted, and you did it right back— it’s been years since you’ve been in tears in your bedroom over something one of the boys said. 

as you laid on your back, sprawled across your mattress, you began to think, and what san said started to make more and more sense as you thought about it. daddy issues— your tears dried without you noticing. mingyu’s age, his career, his stability, the pet names, how he took care of you already, his dominating nature that ‘only came out with you… you ate up every moment— you loved it, even. 

but it was all because of one thing, and as much as you hated it, san hit it right on the money. 

“teens?” he spoke before he knocked, three rhythmic taps of his knuckles against your door. 

“go away, yunho,” you frown, turning on your side with your back facing the door even if he couldn’t see you. 

“let me in,” he urged, you could see his scowl through the wooden slab that separated you. “i’m sorry for what san said– san is sorry for what he said. please let me talk to you.”

you sighed, you knew he wouldn’t go away, he’d sit there until you opened up whether that be in one hour or six. you got up, unlocking your door, but you didn’t open it. you let him open it himself as he followed you inside your room, you plopped onto your bed lifelessly, your body a dead weight. he followed you, sitting at the foot of your bed, resting a hand on your ankles that laid one over the other. 

“he shouldn’t of said that,” yunho started, “it was fucked up. he crossed a line.” 

“he’s right,” your throat constricted, words fighting their way through. your words become quieter, a strain on your vocal chords, “i thought mingyu was perfect.”

“what did i tell you?” yunho leaned across your legs so he could see your face that was laid on the pillow. you looked down at him as he said, “you deserve someone who’s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, you’re special and important.” 

you blinked, tears returning to you, filling up your waterline. “he does all of those things, he makes me feel that way, and now i’m supposed to be normal when i know the only reason i feel this way about him is because my dad is dead? because matt fucking sucks?”

yunho purses his lips, his body stiffening on top of your legs. “tiny, there’s eight years between you. he’s fooling around with you, it’s not right.”

“i know our age difference already!” your voice raises, “he’s done everything right, yunho. you don’t know him, you didn’t even try to get to know him when he was here, instead you sulked in your bad mood like a child. what was that even about?” 

“don’t get pissed at me because of something san said,” he sits up, his weight lifted from your legs, his eyes looking everywhere but at you as he continues. “i was just in a bad mood saturday, it wasn’t about anything.” 

“you’re lying, jeong yunho. you forget that i know you,” you sit up, too, facing him feet apart on your mattress. he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, he wasn’t expecting you to call him out.

“you’re missing the point,” he sighs, looking down at your mattress, reining in the topic at hand. “i don’t know him, but i don’t need to. eight years of life is longer than you think, he knows a lot more than you, you just started going on dates. you don’t know anything, tiny.” 

“i know enough,” you shake your head, “i know that i like him a lot and that’s enough for me.” 

“so what, you want to be married within the next two years?” he looked back up to you, his face was unreadable, but his voice was firm, truthful. he meant every word he said. “miss out on being in your twenties? miss out on dating? learning about people, experiencing life, trying out different things. learning how to be independent, how to support yourself, miss out on all of that because you have a rich husband? that’s your goal?” 

you blink, “is that why you’re single? experiencing life, dating around, fucking who you please because you can? sounds boring to me.” your words are curt, intended to sting. “i’d much rather learn and experience with someone, grow together as a unit.”

“be realistic, think like you’re twenty two, not like you’re still seventeen,” he bites, sending the sting right back to you. after a moment’s pause, he speaks, his voice soft. “i’m single because i’m waiting.”

“for what?” you ask, eyebrows knitted together, tears still dancing down your cheeks. “how do you know? …what you’re waiting for?” 

“it’s not for what, tiny— it’s for who.”

──────  ꨄ︎

“i have an idea,” chan was smiling ear to ear, you wondered if the two of you would ever pay attention to your lecture again, two weeks in a row spent talking the entire class. “me and my roommates are going to a music festival this weekend, you should come.”

your lips form a line, “chan, if this is about–”

“hear me out!” he interjects, a finger coming up between you, silencing you. you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms as he continues. “i know you’re seeing someone, but this will get jisung off my back and you can get a feel for him without making it an actual thing.”

seeing someone feels sour, you ignore it— “okay, let me hear your plan.”

“it’s a music festival, so it’s not like it’s some private, real date like going to dinner or something. you can bring your friends, i’ll be with mine, we can meet up and it can be a group thing so you have people to hangout with if you aren’t into hanji,” he raises his eyebrows with a smile as he awaited your response, “not bad, right?”

you think about it for a second– it’s not a terrible idea, and you did owe chan for your own date with him. you nod, “when is it?”

“saturday, i’ll text you the link for tickets. me and my three roommates are going, jisung jihoon and jeongin, everybody’s single,” he winks, “they’re all music people.”

“and all of their names start with J,” your eyebrows furrow, “how did you manage that?”

he shrugs, “me and jisung were roommates, jeongin and jihoon were roommates, we got an apartment together sophomore year and it just happened to be that way. i’m the only non-music major and the only one whose name doesn’t start with a J,” he brings his attention to his laptop, pulling up the website for the music festival. 

“it’s all weekend long, you probably don’t want to go all weekend so just come for one day,” he says, pulling up the lineup on the screen. you scan the list and you know several artists, it seems fun, and the idea was well thought out. it wasn’t necessarily a date, but instead a place you would just happen to be at together– you would barely have to talk to jisung if you didn’t want to. 

you didn’t have to tell mingyu, either— not that he’d have an issue if you did. being wednesday now, you haven’t seen him since sunday morning, and since monday night… there was no way he couldn’t tell something was off. where you were usually bubbly on the phone with him, over text, you’d turn monotonous without even realizing. the whole relationship began to feel stale after what san said, after your talk with yunho. you weren’t sure if any of your feelings were legitimate anymore.

chan texts you the link and you immediately send it to your groupchat, telling the boys to clear their schedules and to buy their tickets (you tell san to get one for you, too. he owes you). you were met with no pushback, all of the boys agreeing except ace— he was taking reia away for the weekend, using yunho’s idea. 

“i’m so excited,” chan beams, scrolling through the website, “it’s really cool, we’ve gone every year since we started here. tell your friends that my roommates are single.”

“i’ve never been to a music festival before, just random concerts here and there. you’ll have to show us etiquette,” you snicker when you realize exactly what he’s implying with his roommates— you didn’t think any of your three boys had gotten any in awhile. “i will definitely let them know.” 

as you walked out of class and into the brisk, october air, a certain car stuck out like a sore thumb in the parking lot. sitting idly and illegally was a BMW pulled up beside the curb, closest to the building of your class— completely blacked out, tinted windows with a gold seventeen decal on the back window on the driver’s side… that car belonged to one person and one person only.

he stepped out of his car as soon as you walked out of the building, dressed in all black business casual attire, sunglasses on his face. you bid chan goodbye without as much as a glance, feet drifting toward mingyu so fluidly and without thought you could’ve been floating all over again. maybe he did cast a spell on you.

mingyu stepped around the vehicle to open his passenger side door, greeting you with a smile, “hey, princess.” he kissed you on the head before you slid into the seat, the smell of his cologne and fresh leather hitting your nose as he shut the door behind you. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked as he got into the driver’s seat, putting the car into reverse. you began feeling awkward, confused, your talk with yunho came to mind again– mingyu’s presence made it too easy to forget all of your worries. 

“don’t sound too excited, i’m taking you to lunch,” he shot you a tight lipped smile as he put his car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot. 

“mingyu,” you breathed with a small shake of your head. you hadn’t even gotten all of your thoughts in order, you wanted to wait before you talked to him, you knew it was coming eventually— he did, too. 

“don’t say anything,” he kept his gaze on the road in front of him, the sun shining through his windshield, kissing his soft, golden skin. he let his hand fall to your thigh. “just… let me do this.” 

“okay,” you said, flushing as the weight of his palm hit your skin. electricity shot through you every time you were with him, every time he touched you— it had to mean something. 

or did you just want it to? 

he pulled into the parking lot of a diner, a small one near your campus. you loved diners, you used to go with your family growing up once a week— every sunday morning, stopping shortly after you turned twelve. your blood thrummed in excitement under your skin. 

you sat in a booth, a quietness consuming the two of you, you thought maybe he didn’t know what to say— you definitely didn’t. mingyu broke the silence first. 

“you want to tell me what’s going on?” 

“there’s nothing to tell, nothing going on, i mean,” you barely looked up from your menu when you knew what you wanted to order in the parking lot. how do you tell someone that the only reason you’re interested in them is because you’re wired to? 

he sighed, laying his menu down on the table. the waitress comes and takes your orders, leaving you to silence once again. 

“the only way this is going to work is if you’re honest,” his voice is more serious than it usually is. you have nothing to hold in your hands anymore— it feels like you’re back at that expensive restaurant when mingyu first brought you on an impromptu lunch date. you feel exposed.

you run a hand through your hair, “i don’t know, mingyu.” you pause, then internally said fuck it. “you said you won’t rush anything with me, but what if i’m just holding you back?” 

“how would you be holding me back?” his eyes were full of concern as he leaned forward, arms folding across the table. 

“you’re thirty, ready to get married, start a family,” you shake your head, “i’m not even close to being there yet.” 

“i met you two weeks ago,” a chuckle leaves his lips, trying to relieve the tension brought by your statement, “why is that on your mind?” 

“you shouldn’t be wasting your time, mingyu. you’re fooling around with a twenty two year old,” your own words weren’t leaving your lips— they were yunho’s. 

“fooling around?” his eyes were raised as if you insulted him. “if i was fooling around i wouldn’t have made so much of an effort. wouldn’t have cooked for you, met your family, i would’ve fucked you the day i met you and never spoken to you again.” 

the gears turn in your head, he said it so simply, you knew it was to help put you at ease— it hurt instead. he continues, “i’ve been serious about you since the day you met me for lunch. i like you.” 

“and what happens when you meet someone who’s ready?” you bite, your brain swirling with mingyu’s testimony but also the advice from your twin. “if your ex comes back to this side of the country, if you meet someone who doesn’t have a dead dad, someone actually meant for you.” 

mingyu laughs— the chuckle was not out of amusement, it was dry and venomous and knowing. “there it is.” 

“what?” you ask, shifting in the old leather booth as if you were in the hot seat. 

“they got into your head, didn’t they?” he shakes his head, a sarcastic smile on his face, “i knew they didn’t like me, your friends, your brother— you would never say that on your own.” 

“nobody ‘got to me’, mingyu,” you argue, your fingers twisting on the table between you because they did get to you and you know that, but you think they might be right. “how do you know what i would say and wouldn’t say? like you said, we met two weeks ago.”

his face hits his palms as he sighs, they slide over his skin in frustration, “was it yunho?” 

“what?” your back presses against the cushion of the booth, “was what yunho?” 

the waitress brings your food to the table, halting your conversation or argument. a part of you wanted to thank her for cutting you off, you didn’t know if you wanted him to continue— not when yunho was brought into the conversation. he did, though, as soon as she walked away from the table. 

he cut into his meal– “yunho doesn’t like me.”

“he has never once said that, mingyu,” you respond, cutting into your french toast. diners were best for all day breakfast.

“he doesn’t need to,” he was smiling again, not out of happiness, you couldn’t place his emotions based on his face. his words didn’t match it. “game’s game. this whole conversation is ridiculous, can’t you see that?” 

“what are you talking about?” your eyebrows blend together, so furrowed in confusion you were sure you looked animated, “what am i not seeing?” 

“it’s besides the point,” he pays attention to his food again, his tone laced with irritation. “i like you, i’ve been trying to be consistent with showing how much i like you— how much i want to do this the right way.” 

“i understand if you think we can’t be together because of our age, because of your past, things out of your control, but i want you to know that i don’t agree. i don’t think any of that should be used to factor whether we work or not because i think we work really well.” 

“i think we get along really well, too,” you said, sounding like you were the one trying to convince him now – you snapped yourself back into reality, what you felt, what you knew, not the bubble mingyu put you in. “in the long run i… mingyu i don’t know if i’m ready for all of this.”

“all of what?” he was getting frustrated now, furrowed brows and a tight jaw, “i haven’t tried to take this even one step further. are you scared of what it could turn into?”

“yes, it feels real,” you shake your head, “it feels really real.”

“in any other situation that’d be a good thing,” he takes a hand through his hair, sitting back in the booth, “maybe you’re right. too young, i guess.”

regret washes over you like a bucket of cold water, but you don’t falter in your words, reciting them from someone else’s mouth. “eight years is a lot longer than i thought it was, you know more than i do– i just started dating.”

he nods, lips pursed, but he says nothing for a few moments. you stare at him with flushed cheeks, an uneasiness sitting at the pit of your stomach. it was fight or flight, and there’s nowhere to run– literally. 

“finish your meal and i’ll take you back to campus,” you couldn’t read his tone, but it was definitely not happy. 

like you always did with mingyu, whether you wanted to or it was installed in you, you obeyed. you spent the rest of your meal wishing you could say something else, words at the tip of your tongue that you couldn’t find the voice to say. he paid for your meal, a gentleman until the end, and drove you back to campus. 

“before you go, can i just say one thing?” he says as he turns to you, flipping his sunglasses on top of his head. you nod. 

“you don’t have to listen to them,” he says and your mouth parts to speak, but he cuts you off. “you may think they know everything about you because you grew up with them, but they don’t know how you feel. they don’t know my intentions for you, they don’t know how much i like you.”

“i know you’ve been through a lot in your life and they were there for you every step of the way, but i’d treat you so fucking well. i would never pressure you into marriage, or having kids or whatever worries have been put into your pretty little brain. i’d do whatever you wanted– if you wanted to travel, i’d take you on trips, we could explore every little school on the opposite side of the world. if you wanted to open your own damn school, i’d do that with you, i’d help you. i don’t want you to walk away with the idea that i’m not the one for you— we both know this would’ve worked if you let it.” 

jaw slack and eyes filled with tears, you stared at him. you blinked once, twice, then your lips were on his before you could even process that you had moved an inch. 

you deserve someone who’s gonna appreciate you, cherish you, you’re special and important. 

isn’t that what this is? isn’t this what you’ve been looking for? your brain whirled, mingyu’s tongue licking into your mouth, his huge palms holding your wet cheeks. 

learning about people, experiencing life, trying out different things.

tears flowed down your skin, onto mingyu’s fingers, he just kissed you harder. 

learning how to be independent, how to support yourself, miss out on all of that because you have a rich husband? that’s your goal?

there was only one way this could end– you needed it to end, now, or else you’d never leave his car. you pulled away from mingyu, wide eyed and so fucking confused. you hated yourself in this moment– it felt like being pulled into your living room when mingyu was in your kitchen. being pulled towards comfort and familiarity, when what your future could be was waiting for you, missing you, hoping you’d stay. 

“i’m sorry,” was all you could get out before you were pushing the car door open and racing towards your own.

──────  ꨄ︎

figuring out an outfit for a music festival was hard to begin with, you had too many factors adding onto it that made the task a thousand times worse. you could barely get yourself out of bed this morning for starters, you hopped in the shower half past eleven when you needed to leave at one. because it was late october and most music festivals were held in the summer, even pinterest wasn’t helping you with inspiration. on top of that, having three men in your bedroom without a lick of a feminine fashion sense made it borderline overstimulating, they threw ideas at you while their outside clothes laid all over your unmade bed– it tipped you over the edge. the only good part was that it’s cold outside. 

you went casual– you needed to, you’d be outside for hours and alcohol can only heat you up so much. baggy jeans, a hoodie and an oversized jacket on top, you accessorized with a baseball cap and some sneakers and you were set. a mini purse with nothing but your ID and some lip gloss sat on your shoulder, sunglasses on your face, you’d be warm, comfortable and cute. 

when you walked downstairs to the three boys sitting in your living room, you realized you were all wearing different versions of the same outfit. you copied them without even realizing– naturally, they noticed, and had plenty to say about it. you didn’t care enough to change. 

the drive to the festival wasn’t terrible, little traffic until you got closer to the venue, yunho drove with loud music playing through the speakers and the other two singing along in the backseat. when you arrived, you immediately sent a text to chan letting him know you arrived.

“i want a drink,” you said as soon as you walked through security, yunho on your left and the other two on your right. “who’s paying for it?” 

“why can’t you pay for it? you should buy us drinks,” yeosang huffed, digging his hands further into his pockets. 

“you’re in the clear,” you moved a little closer to yeosang, bumping your shoulder against his. “i didn’t bring money, the other two are responsible for ruining my relationship with mingyu, so they get to buy my drinks all night.” 

san gasps, “i am not responsible–” 

“surfside?” yunho asks, eyes already scanning the area for the nearest bar, not wanting to begin that conversation again. his figure stood over the massive crowd already formed around you, your group definitely did not get there early. 

“yes, please,” a small smile sat on your face as you followed yunho towards the nearest bar, pleased with how quickly he agreed, he bought drinks for the two of you– leaving san and yeosang to fend for themselves. 

san grumbles, “you should buy me a drink for how mean you’ve been.” 

you point your eyes at him and he shrinks under your gaze, voice growing small as he said, “i’ll buy the next round.” 

you walked through the crowd, so many different kinds of people surrounded you. a range of ages, dressed in clothes much more appropriate for a music festival than yours. the energy of the space was so bright, so welcoming, it was beckoning your mood to brighten– you wished you could let it. 

you stayed close to at least one of the three, keeping your eyes peeled under your sunglasses for a blonde boy no taller than five foot eight. he was nowhere to be found, as you assumed since the venue was so massive. you walked up to the first stage, the main stage which was one you wanted to see, a small indie band. you knew some songs, but you wouldn’t know an entire setlist– the show you really wanted to see wasn’t until later. 

being after three and you hadn’t ingested anything other than your morning (afternoon) coffee, the surfside you had taken about four sips of was already going straight to your head. you wore a disinterested look even though the stage was good, the band was putting on a great show, you’ve been miserable since wednesday. you missed mingyu, even if your time together was short– you figured that you might be perpetually stuck between if your choice was right or if you regret it completely. 

“drummer’s hot,” yeosang comes to your side, bumping his shoulder into yours again. 

you shoot him a tight lipped smile, “he’s alright.” 

“bro, cheer up,” he frowns, “if you were normal you’d be drooling over him right now.” 

you roll your eyes, “cheer me up instead of complaining, then.” 

“where’s the whiskey date guy? aren’t we supposed to be meeting up with him?” yeosang asks and you pull out your phone from your pocket, four texts from chan filling your screen. 

chan: UR HERE!!!! chan: wya

chan: hello

chan: were going to the main stage meet us there

already being at the main stage, you typed back a quick response then looked around through your shaded lenses, the blonde nowhere to be found. you nudged yunho’s side, asking him to look for chan instead, he could see a lot better than you could. as he looked out into the crowd farther than your eyes could see, chan found you first. 

“hey!” you heard to your left, a voice that belonged to the one you were searching for. you whipped your head around, a genuine smile surprising you as it filled out your cheeks, waving him over. 

“you found me! i just texted you back,” you said as he wrapped you into a short hug of greeting. 

he stepped back, looking around you, “where are your friends?” 

“here?” you said with eyebrows raised, yeosang, san and yunho coming forward to stand at your sides. “this is san, yeosang and yunho.” 

“oh,” a questioning look grew on his face, then he stepped closer to you, speaking quieter so only you could hear. “when i said bring your friends, i was not expecting a bunch of…dudes?” 

you giggled, “surprised i’m not with a group of girls?”

“for some reason, it explains a lot,” he shrugs and you raise your eyebrows, asking him to explain without verbalizing it. “you aren’t… shy in the way a lot of girls are, i guess, i don’t know, you talk about your relationship problems with me. plus, we’re in the same outfit.”

you look him up and down, realizing he is yet another person you’ve stolen fashion inspiration from. you smack a hand over your mouth, “oh god, you too?” giggles threaten to slip through your palm, before you shrug and say, “i’m one of the guys, i guess.”

“ew,” he physically cringes, “never say that again.”

three guys approached behind chan and you first spot jisung, the one you didn’t meet at chan’s apartment. he looked the same, a mop of brown curls sat atop his head, big, thin frames on his face, a hoodie and baggy jeans on his body. he looked just as cute as the day you first saw him, like a chipmunk you’d spot outside of your living room window on a spring day. 

he wasn’t sexy, he wasn’t massively muscular, he wasn’t six foot three or thirty years old— he wasn’t mingyu. no one could be.

“these are my friends,” chan pointed to each friend as he said, “jisung, jeongin and jihoon.” 

“ah, the J’s!” you introduced yourself to the three of them, your groups quickly merging to create small talk. chan stood close to you, guiding your conversation with his roommates, you talked about the festival, what bands were playing, until you settled into a layer of comfort to speak freely. the surfside was definitely helping. 

you quickly realized the three boys were more reserved, unlike chan– or they were at least not comfortable enough yet to cut through san and yeosang’s voices, who were quickly dominating the conversation with chan. 

“the next band playing is really good,” jihoon finally interrupts, looking around the group with a gaze which didn’t seem shy, instead calculated, like he was waiting for the right moment to speak. he was shorter than everyone, long, black hair laid over his shoulders, you could see the muscles beneath the black tee he wore, nearly masked by the black jacket sat perfectly on his shoulders. he gave the vibe that he had his shit together– clean, healthy, confident. “do you guys want to stay? who are you here to see?” 

“jungle is playing later,” you reply, “on stage B i believe, at eight? i want to see them the most.” 

“TV girl is playing at six,” yeosang cuts in, warm brown hair that’s gotten noticeably longer was falling over his temples now, “still woozy plays in about an hour.”

“you like still woozy?” jeongin asked yeosang, as if hearing jihoon’s voice gave him the confidence to speak up himself. the two were just about the same height, yeosang was maybe an inch taller than jeongin. his face was insane, to say the least– sharp jaw, high cheekbones, almond shaped eyes that curved up ever so slightly at the edges. he was the other one out of the four that resembled an animal in the most gorgeous way, black hair laying across his forehead that made the shadows of his face deepen further. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was a model, if not a fox turned human– you wondered if he had any interest in you.

“where have you been keeping them?” you say in chan’s ear, leaning closely into his side. chan chuckles, looking down at the ground, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. 

“i keep them locked in their rooms, they’re only allowed out during feeding time,” he jokes, a wide smile on his face, voice turning to a hushed whisper as he says, “stop ogling them, jisung will get jealous.” 

“then jisung should do something about it,” you retort as you bring your gaze back to the group– jisung couldn’t see who you were looking at anyways, you still had your sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose.

“let him get a few more drinks in him, he will,” chan nods nonchalantly as he looks away from you. you rolled your eyes under the shades– you didn’t care either way, but the outright admittance of jisung needing alcohol to talk to you rubbed you the wrong way. 

your group travels to another stage, watching a different group play while waiting for still woozy to start their performance. jisung trailed behind the group with jihoon, the two seemed to be a pair so far, then yeosang, san and jeongin had split off to the side. you walked between yunho and chan, three quarters of your surfside had already heated you up enough to where the bite of the air was more of a light nibble on your cheeks. 

“i need another,” you said in san’s direction, wiggling your can that had little liquid left in it. 

san frowns, “already?” 

you threw the last bit of liquid back, swallowing it quickly, and handed it to san. “yes, please.”

he grabs the can from your hands and turns to the group, wearing a look of irritation even if he doesn't care at all– he’ll let the act go on for as long as he deems necessary. drama queen. “anyone else need another?” 

chan and his roommates hadn’t gotten drinks yet, and yeosang needed a refill– leaving you alone with yunho, where you stood watching the random band playing on the stage. 

“the curly headed one is interested in you,” yunho comments without looking at you, voice flat as he brings his beer to his lips to take a sip. it should catch you off guard how quickly he noticed without you and jisung having any interactions so far, but you were done with being inside yunho’s head. 

you let out a sound of amusement instead, “and?” 

“just letting you know,” he looks down at you, “it seems you know already.” 

you shoot him a pointed look before turning back to the stage, the two of you falling into silence. your stomach grows warm, the drink you’d already chugged down had begun fulfilling its purpose– warming you up first and foremost, helping you forget how miserable you’d become second. 

“i don’t know what to say to you to make things better,” yunho admits, keeping his focus on the band. his mouth twists to one side, discomfort sitting on his features, you two hadn’t really spoken since wednesday. 

you came home the day you ended things with mingyu in tears, anger replacing every atom in your body as if you’d become a pot overflowing with boiling water– you lost it, all of your feelings were directed at both san and yunho. they were sitting on the couches in your living room, completely blindsided when you decided they alone were responsible for how your relationship with mingyu ended. both boys had fought you on it.

ace didn’t have it in him to mediate your argument, he had his own relationship issues to work through, instead he and yeosang watched the three of you yell at each other for minutes until you fully broke down. not once did either of them tell you to make up with mingyu, to reconsider their words, but instead they consoled you for the two week long relationship you were clearly grieving– it pissed you off even more.

after you had time to process the argument, you realized all you wanted was their approval– you wanted them to tell you to get back with him, you wanted them to like him as much as you did, as much as you do. for three days now you've been sitting with your anger, only giving curt responses around your house, spending most of your time in your bedroom, you considered not even coming today. 

you needed to get out– you needed a boyfriend before thanksgiving. 

“there’s nothing for you to say,” you shrug, then cross your arms over your chest. “even if i reached out to him now, i don’t think he’ll ever see me as anything other than an immature twenty two year old. it’s done.” 

he sips his beer again. “you are an immature twenty two year old.” you snap your gaze up at him, ready to bite back, but he continues. “that’s what you’re supposed to be, this is how it should be.” 

a dry laugh escapes you, one that lets him know there was nothing funny at all. “how it should be? at a music festival waiting for a guy to get the balls to speak to me?” 

he speaks through an exhale, “at least this guy is your age, tiny.”

you step to the side, giving yourself space from him, not wanting to slip into a fit of anger and ruin the day for everyone, you know you will if you continue the conversation. your mind whirls as you keep your gaze locked on the stage, not hearing one beat of the drum nor a single strum of the guitar, ears ringing as you try to calm yourself down. 

“i’m sorry,” he says as he steps closer, his voice quiet, only for your ears. “i didn’t think you’d be this hurt, i guess.”

“i came home bawling my eyes out and screamed at you,” you said, baffled, not fully believing him. you hadn’t argued over anything more serious than what you were having for dinner in years. “you didn’t think it hurt?” 

“i’ll stop meddling,” he pulls his lips together, forming a tight line. you see the group of boys returning to where you stood from behind yunho, drinks in tow, you turn to face the stage again. 

“you won’t have the chance to meddle again, i learned my lesson for good,” you say flatly, and he sighs. the sigh was both long and loud, he was truly defeated– he didn’t know how to handle you. you couldn’t comprehend why he felt the need to in the first place. 

“we should head to stage C,” chan says as soon as he returns, san right on his tail to hand you your drink. you were grateful yunho didn’t have the time to continue the conversation. you slap a smile on your face and thank him for the drink before asking chan who’s playing at stage C. 

chan smirks, “weezer.” 

“oh, brother,” you laugh, “let’s go.” 

you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if you were starting to have a good time, but the time you spent watching weezer while you waited for still woozy to come on seemed to break up the dark cloud looming above you. chan stayed close, he was bleeding positive energy that you didn’t know if he was pushing onto you on purpose, or if it was just him. either way, the smile that sat on your face became more and more genuine, less forced as time went by. 

by the time you made it to still woozy’s set, you were past the level of comfortably warm and leaning towards hot. you stopped at the bar again after weezer, you were just tipsy enough to buy all eight of you a round of shots– the plan was not to get drunk, but that seemed to be the direction the day was going in, who were you to stop it? 

just before the set began, jeongin and yeosang had pulled your group by the wrists to fight through the crowd and get as close to the front as you could. you let yunho and san guide you into the mass of people, two walls of muscle and height to give you a path, the crowd didn’t bother you one bit. your smile was more than genuine now, you couldn’t wipe it off your face– this was a music festival, seeing bands you never would’ve thought of buying tickets for, a group of people gathered in one place that enjoyed the same music as you. you were already thinking of going to more. 

swaying side to side, singing a song you’d heard on repeat in yeosang’s car at the top of your lungs, you almost didn’t catch the eyes that couldn’t leave you. attached to a mop of curly brown hair, behind massive lenses, a gaze of chocolate brown accompanied by a small smile seemed entranced by you. you smiled back when you noticed, then turned your head back to the band– jisung took that as an invitation. 

walking up beside you, jisung didn’t say anything at first. his head nodded along to the song, curls bouncing across his forehead, fingers wrapped around a plastic cup. with a stomach full of vodka, you were almost excited– you wanted to encourage him, give him the confidence, tell him to say something. 

but you didn’t– and jisung still said nothing after the entire song. 

after the song ended, there was a moment of silence amongst the crowd, the inbetween waiting for the next song to play. you glanced around for your friends– yeosang and jeongin were mid conversation, yeosang’s body leaned into jeongin’s but not quite touching, his body language saying you weren’t the only one who found jeongin attractive. damn. 

yunho and jihoon stood behind everyone, the height difference between the two almost made you giggle, where san and chan stood next to them. the four weren’t speaking, but holding their drinks and watching the performance instead, all shooting you a warm look when you caught their eyes. 

you turned to jisung, “can you do me a favor?” he nodded, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “can you hold my drink while i take my jacket off, please?” 

he nodded again and you handed him your can, slightly struggling to get your jacket off over your sleeves. when you got it off, you threw it over your forearm, and jisung handed you your can back. 

“do you, uh– want me to hold your jacket?” he asked, his eyes wide and sparkling– his tone seemed unsure of his own words, but he still said them. 

“no, no, don’t worry about it,” you beamed, “thank you.”

as the next song started to play, a few strums of the guitar woke up the crowd, screams erupting around you. one of the screams had come from yeosang, who had his hands shaped in an oval around his mouth, making his yell that much louder.

you giggled and turned back to jisung who was also smiling in yeosang’s direction, “he really likes still woozy.”

“i would’ve never guessed,” he says sarcastically, his smile never dropping. “you seem to like them, too.” 

“i do, but not as much as yeo. he should be up at the barricade,” you point your chin in the direction of the front of the stage. 

“i think jeongin should go with him,” jisung shrugs, “they seem to be a pair.”

“by the end of the night someone will have to rip yeo off of him,” you joke, and jisung laughs. a soft chuckle, but you sense a wall come down, another shred of confidence popping through his reserved demeanor. you smile. 

“what about you?” jisung asks, eyes still moon-shaped, as if he was scared to ask the question. 

your eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side, “what about me?”

“chan said you had a boyfriend, he isn't here?” jisung’s lips form a line as if he was scared to hear the answer, your face immediately mimics his, but for an entirely different reason. you didn’t think jisung knew about mingyu, unless chan filled him in and didn’t tell you. you hadn’t filled chan in on the recent developments concerning mingyu, either. 

“i don’t have a boyfriend, i’m not seeing anyone,” you shake your head and turn to the stage. jisung felt the shift in mood, stepping forward, into your view. 

“sorry if i overstepped,” he shook his head, “chan said–”

“chan didn’t know, doesn’t know, you're fine,” you give him a weak smile, and the conversation runs flat. you took the last swig of your surfside– you needed this feeling gone, as if mingyu never happened in the first place. 

“do you want another drink?” jisung asks as soon as the can leaves your lips, “my treat.” 

you give him a singular nod, and before you could process it, jisung was leading you through the pack of people. you didn’t tell a soul where you were going, you walked right through the wall of boys as if they were waiting for you to run off with jisung. where the crowd was more condensed, jisung took a pause, making you stop in your tracks behind him. 

“gimme this,” he muttered as he grabbed your jacket and your empty can, then took your hand with his free one. “stay close to me.” 

your cheeks flushed as you nodded, the heat that was already consuming your entire being only grew in temperature. maybe he’s the type that’s only shy at first. your eyes stayed trained on your linked fingers, his hands were soft, calluses on the tips of his fingers that laid over your knuckles. 

“do you play guitar?” you asked as you made it to the outskirts of the crowd, jisung took a pause that had you flipping his hand over, inspecting the tougher skin atop his fingers. 

“uh— yes,” you glance up, his cheeks pink, the ends of his curls lying along the frames of his glasses. “i make music, i’m studying composing, songwriting, all that stuff.” 

“chan told me,” you smile as you let his fingers go, nearing the feeling of cuteness aggression the more you look at him. all you could muster was a breathy “that’s cool”.

his smile grew and he tugged on your hand again, rough fingertips laid on your knuckles once more as he pulled you towards the bar. behind it was a man who you, at first, couldn’t believe was a bartender— black hair that touched his broad shoulders, a slender figure with a muscular structure that seemed too curated for bartending to be his career. a black long sleeve shirt clung to every inch of him, baggy jeans that hung loose on his hips, an outfit you’d definitely be taking inspiration from. 

his face was nothing short of beautiful, plump lips, a white smile that sparkled when he asked what you’d be drinking. 

jisung turned to you with an eyebrow raised, a questioning look. you cleared your throat, “a surfside, please.” 

“miller, please,” jisung nodded towards him and the bartender shot you another smile before he was opening your cans. you were mesmerized as he grabbed the bar key with nimble fingers, cracking the tab with practiced movements, a speed that told you maybe this was his full time career. 

jisung paid as promised and you took your time making it back to stage C happily with small talk and a lazy stride, choosing to hang at the back of the crowd instead of fighting towards the middle where you stood before. 

jisung’s presence had enveloped your mind quicker than you thought it would, once you broke the ice it was easier to talk to him, speaking as freely as you would with someone who’d been your friend way longer than just a day. you didn’t talk of anything personal, not school, your family, your friends, your interests, your intentions, but instead small talk that came too easily, standing close while you swayed to goodie bag. 

it was comfortable— it wasn’t forced, it wasn’t staged, it wasn’t planned. it wasn’t even obvious that jisung was interested in you, there were no pickup lines, no quick-witted flirting, yet you knew and you might even like it. maybe what you need right now is simplicity. 

when your friends came out of the crowd in laughter and giddy smiles, you felt lighter, the energy around you felt brighter, the air felt clearer, you almost forgot you walked into the venue miserable. with TV girl playing shortly at another stage, there was no time to stand and talk, you and jisung quickly slipped into the crowd of your friend group mid-conversation as if you never ran off in the first place. 

“what’s your guys’ favorite song?” yeosang asked the group, bouncing on his feet as you approached the already formed crowd, jeongin at his side. 

“the whole french exit album,” you were first to answer. “birds don’t sing, louise, lover’s rock, the blonde.” 

“tiny’s a romantic,” you heard san announce, and it brings a smile to your face— whether it was sarcasm or a dig you didn’t care, maybe now you were a romantic. “i only know lover’s rock.” 

“tiny?” jisung asks, turning to you, an eyebrow raised. “that’s you?” 

“unfortunately,” you nod, “been tiny since the womb, practically.” 

“fitting,” jisung smacks his lips together and flattens his brows in contemplation then quickly to understanding— you couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. 

jihoon turns to chan, “you listen to TV girl a lot, right?” 

chan nods towards him, “you should know more than lover’s rock, i play their music all the time at home. better in the dark?” he glances around to empty stares, he raises his eyebrows with expectancy and sings, “the lighter makes a spark, but i look better in the dark.” 

jisung, jihoon and jeongin all simultaneously release a dragged out “oh” in remembrance, and chan rolls his eyes. he turns to you, “they don’t remember shit. too much weed, they smoke.” 

you giggle, then tilt your head to the side, an idea coming to mind. “did anyone bring any?” 

jihoon shoots you a lazy smile, “of course i did, you smoke?” 

you shake your head, “not particularly, but i’m down to.” 

jihoon reaches into his pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet, several joints tucked into one of the folds. he plucks one out, wasting no time as he holds it between his fingers, your group tightens its circle around jihoon as if he was holding gold. 

yunho eyed you from the opposite side of the circle, where you were standing between chan and jisung, he was between san and jihoon. his eyes were observing, debating, a pointed look that forced you to notice it. you shrugged him off, smoking at a music festival just felt right— you didn’t want or need him to parent you, even if you had been drinking already. 

jihoon was quick to light the twisted end of the joint, the red hot flame of his black lighter was enough to color all of your faces an amber hue. you stood like kids, huddled around jihoon like he had a secret to tell, where he took three puffs of the joint to get it burning. your eyes widened as you watched his technique, how he blew on the end of the joint to keep it burning evenly, pink lips tightened to a perfect O shape– a gorgeous sight. 

the circle opens up as you begin passing, a sweet melody in your ear and a pungent smell in your nose, forcing your body into moving to the beat. jisung, beside you, sways his hips in the same motion as yours, a fit of giggles erupting from your lungs as you move in unison. too focused on jisung, you didn’t realize chan was holding the joint out to you. 

you inhaled slowly, you hadn’t smoked since the last time you were at the frats, that had been months ago. you knew the basics, you kept your hits of the joint small, especially since you had a few drinks in you, you were never really a smoker. socially, in the kitchen of a massive frat house, or on the balcony of the only person you consistently hooked up with at school, that only lasted just shy of a month.  

the burn in your lungs and the cough that fought to break through your lips felt nostalgic, you felt so light you could float up to the clouded night sky. immediately immersed into a sense of calm, like stepping into a bath of warm water, you smiled as you passed the joint to jisung. every bone in your body told you you needed that. 

your ears perked to the conversation happening around you, yeosang, san and jeongin in some sort of debate, the joint had made its way to yunho by now. you could feel everything slow down, your eyes hooding, sitting at half mast just from two hits. 

“ah,” jisung tilts his head back in delight, “that strain fucks, hoon.” you couldn’t stop the small giggle from leaving you at fucks.

jihoon smiles, confident as ever, “right?” he looks around the group before he adds, “i grew it myself.” 

san’s jaw drops as he takes the joint from yunho, “you grow it?” 

“right in my backyard,” jihoon nods, “it’s better that way.” 

you check out of the conversation, your focus back on the crowd, not a thought in your brain, yet instead paying attention to the hues of blue and pink that lay over the crowd like blankets. you could see backs of heads and nothing more, shaded eyes not quite reaching the stage, but the light show that cascaded over the mass of people was enough. 

you almost didn’t notice the presence next to you, you hadn’t even realized you moved, as jisung planted his feet directly next to yours, your neck nearly snapped up in surprise. 

“so pretty,” he says, eyes glazed over as they stared out into the crowd, his thoughts probably matched yours. 

“the lights?” you asked, flipping your sunglasses atop your head so you could see clearer.

“you mainly,” he looks down to you and you meet his eyes, not missing the pink that kissed his cheeks, “but yeah, i guess the lights, too.” 

your own cheeks flush– this was the first he was showing interest. you smile through a giggle, “that was smooth, jisung.”

“wanna get closer?” he asks you, reaching for your hand again before you had a moment to answer. 

as he pulled you along, you asked, “are you sure you don’t want to keep smoking?” 

he looks over his shoulder and it nearly takes your breath away, he’s so cute you think you’d follow him around all night, especially if he keeps looking at you like that. as if he’d go anywhere with you, as if he didn’t care about anything else, you saw his feelings in his eyes. he was into you. he smiles, “do you?”

“let’s go,” you nod your head and pull your sunglasses over your eyes again, headed behind jisung into the crowd that was packed like sardines. mumbles of ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ left him as he cut through people, keeping you close to him with a firm grip on your hand, you could feel the calluses on your knuckles so much more. 

when you made it somewhat towards the middle, a pocket of space amongst the crowd, jisung finally stopped and turned to you for approval. you put your sunglasses atop your head again, tucking your hair behind your ears, your view was so much better now. 

the music was louder, the lights were clearer, now it was just you and jisung– you weren’t sure if you were at the festival anymore or if you were up in the clouds. the only thing that could make this better would be if you could actually see the stage. you wish yunho had followed you.

as if he heard your thoughts, jisung’s voice was loud when he asked, “can you see?” 

you shook your head, “the lights are so pretty, it doesn’t even matter.” 

“you're going to think i’m crazy, don’t think i'm crazy,” he prefaces, bracing himself for rejection with a shy smile, “do you want to get on my shoulders?” 

you laugh in disbelief, loudly, looking at him with wide eyes and jaw slack. he raises his eyebrows, “you’re tiny, right?”

“i am tiny but not like that,” you wave your free hand in front of you, “i don’t want to hurt you.” 

he rolls his eyes with a cocky smile, “if you could see what was under the hoodie you wouldn’t be saying that.” 

your eyes widen impossibly further, that was the last thing you expected to leave his lips. a smirk appears on your own, “oh, now you’re confident, huh?” 

“is it working?” 

“maybe.” 

“then get on,” he squats down, your jacket still folded over his forearm but he’s careful not to let it touch the ground. you suck in a breath– this could go one of two ways, especially since you both drank and smoked, either you’ll have an incredible view or everyone will watch you fall to the dirt. 

fuck it. 

you swing a denim covered leg around his neck, slightly hopping up to straddle his nape. you giggle as you do, the action was almost sobering, the amount of focus it took you to balance. as he stood up your hands flew to his curls, the only thing you could think to grab onto to steady yourself, a slew of apologies leaving your lips after you accidentally tugged. 

“jisung!” you yelled, “i didn’t know what else to grab.” 

you could hear the shake of his shoulders as he laughed beneath your thighs, “i could make a terrible joke right now, but i’m not going to.” 

it takes you a moment to catch on, but when you do, you laugh. “nothing but a man.” 

“a man that has you on his shoulders,” he bites back, “enjoy the show.” 

you finally looked up and the stage was finally clear– shrouded in blue light, the members visible, the music so loud– it was nothing short of exhilarating. the thought crosses your mind that maybe this was what yunho was talking about, being in your twenties and experiencing, you don’t know if you would have ever made it onto mingyu’s shoulders in the crowd of a TV girl concert. you guess you’ll never know, and for the first time since wednesday, the thought didn’t fill you with dread - you supposed you have vodka and weed to thank.

instead you screamed– an excited scream, for the band, for the show, for how fucking good their music is. definitely high, more than a little drunk and nearly seven feet in the air, you were positive your night couldn’t get any better. there was nothing better than this. 

“hey!” you heard from beneath you, stealing your attention fully. jisung turns to the side, which turns you to the side, your entire friend group beneath you with wide grins and red, glossed over eyes. 

“hey guys!” you yelled back, your smile reaching ear to ear, “i’m up here!”

“we see you,” yeosang is smiling, “how’s the view?”

“incredible,” you’re gleaming, “this is so fucking cool!” 

san, yeosang and yunho all watch you with soft eyes, warmth in their bodies, you could read their emotions from their faces— superpowers only granted to those who have been friends for two decades. the other three boys stared at you with something like surprise on their faces, for that you could only guess what for, and you didn’t have the brain power to think that deeply about anything right now. you caught chan and yunho locking eyes, yunho shooting chan a dry nod as if to say ‘i told you so’.

you cocked your head to the side for a moment before the thought was gone. you take a sip from your surfside, this one going down much slower than the last ones, and ask the group, “do we have any more weed?” 

“i don’t think you need any more,” san says through an amused smile, with a small shake of his head. he was done being a drama queen. “you’ll fall off the boy’s shoulders.”

“yunho’s here,” you shrug, “he’ll catch me. did you guys know yunho is actually spiderman?” a fit of giggles slips through your lips, your head falling back in laughter. it throws your balance off, making jisung take a step back, and the whole six of them lunge forward. you grab onto jisung’s curls again, stabilizing yourself, “whoa, sorry, i’m getting too comfortable up here.” 

“you should get down,” yunho says with concern as the group walks forward, making something like a crowd around you and jisung without it being obvious it’s to catch you if you fall. “you’re fucked up, teens, you’ll fall.” 

“boo,” you frown, throwing a thumbs down in yunho’s direction. “i like it up here. did you forget you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore?” 

yunho’s jaw tightens, his eyebrows flattening. he chooses not to answer, instead yeosang steps in, saying your actual name in a warning tone. 

“what?” you ask, dumbfounded, “i just wanna watch the show.” 

you bring your attention back to the stage, one hand in jisung’s hair, mindlessly twirling chocolate covered curls around your finger as the other hand brings your surfside back to your lips. you missed the way yeosang, san and yunho shared a look, how the three of them began to realize where tonight was headed, none of them looking forward to it. 

when TV girl’s set ended you were back on the ground, staying close to jisung’s side as you walked toward stage B, excitement flooding you that jungle was next. 

“i can’t wait,” you bounced next to jisung, a wide smile on your face, “do you like jungle?” 

“love jungle,” he nodded, “back on 74? banger.” 

“my favorite is i’ve been in love,” you beam, “i know every word, i think there was a three day period where all i listened to was that song.”

“three days of one song?” he looked at you with raised eyebrows and eyes that looked like the moon hung above you, full and bright, “i would lose my mind.” 

“we listen to music differently, though,” you counter, “i bet you hear a bunch of stuff i don’t. how it’s made, background stuff, lyrics, i just like it when a song sounds good.” 

he smiles, “music’s heard differently by everyone, that’s the cool thing about it. i couldn’t live without it.” 

you groan, “a world without music?” you emphasized your words dramatically, hopefully to humor the boy who knew more about music than you ever would, “that’s called hell.” 

he laughs loudly, hunching forward a bit to catch his mouth with his hand, “i can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.” 

“i’m serious!” you laugh too, accidentally stepping over your foot and bumping into his side, “sorry. but i am serious, i couldn’t live in a world where music didn’t exist.” 

you step into the line for the bar without even thinking or discussing that you would, you didn’t know where everyone else had gone. something about the food trucks by the main entrance. 

“have you been friends with them for a long time?” jisung asks, moving in front of you, and your eyes glaze over his figure. his clothes fit him so nicely, his hoodie perfectly oversized, jeans lying over the laces of his sneakers at just the right spot. “you seem like you’ve been friends forever.” 

“ever since i can remember, they’ve been in my life,” you nod with a smile, head tilting to the side. your eyes felt heavy. “they’re my brothers, basically.” 

“i only have one older brother,” his lips form a tight smile, “must be nice to have three.”

“four,” you correct him, stepping forward in line, “i have an actual brother, he’s my twin.”

“and you’re all friends?”

“our parents are close friends, so naturally we are, too,” you nod. wanting to change the subject, with a devilish smile you ask, “should we get shots?”

jisung lets out a huff of amusement through his nose, “can you handle shots?” 

“i fear i might need shots,” you say through a breath, you felt like you were slowing down. if you slowed down any further, the sadness would creep back in. “i’ll get this round.” 

he looks at you inquisitively, like he wanted to ask but didn’t know if he should. instead he waves you off and says, “nah, i’ll get them, if you need one so badly.”

you smile and lightly slap his bicep, “now you’re making me sound like an alcoholic, it’s just been a tough week.” 

he nods as you step forward again, one group in front of you in line. “i can understand that, this is good timing, then. the festival, and me.” 

your head snaps up to look at him like a deer caught in headlights, fumbling over your words, “no– i–”

“don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head, “let’s just have fun.” 

you take a second to close your mouth, and nod with a weak smile. he orders you tequila shots and hard liquor drinks this time– go big or go home, his words. as you sipped through a tiny straw on your way back to stage B, you realized he was right, shots and a drink drink were much needed– go big or go home, indeed. your brain was even foggier as you approached the dark stage, jungle wasn’t playing just yet, but you could see small shadows of people setting up the stage from the back of the crowd. 

“should we go up there?” you ask jisung, referring to the crowd, slurring your words ever so slightly. 

the corner of his lips lifted up into a smile, his eyes glossed over just like your own, he’s keeping up with you. “i think we should definitely go up there.”

fingers linked again, pressing through bodies in the crowd, the rest of your friends weren’t a thought in your brain. a wide smile on your face, all you could think was jisung and jungle. he was the perfect person to rip you out of whatever funk you were in. 

jisung got you both closer than you’d been the entire time you were at the festival, it was condensed but not as packed as the first twenty rows of people– you still had wiggle room. he tugged on your hand to bring you even closer to the stage, but you didn’t feel like being a sardine, you had pulled his back to keep you both in the spot you deemed perfect. he’d pulled his phone out to take a picture of the stage, most likely to send to one of his friends to let them know where you were, but you kept your phone in your purse, selfishly hoping they wouldn’t find you. you just wanted to be, here with jisung, watching the show together. 

as the lights came on, screams erupted from around you, also from you and jisung. the crowd collapsed inward, pushing you into the people in front of you– a meek yelp left your lips as people behind you pushed into you. jisung was quick to grab your wrist and pull you in front of him, wrapping his arms around your front over your shoulders, laying one wrist over another in front of you. 

you tilt your head up, fear still lingering in your eyes from almost getting crushed, “thank you.” 

he gave you a tight lipped smile and you swooned. his hoodie was so soft, so warm, his arms wrapped around you made you feel safe, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. your back pressed to his front, your head laid back on his chest right under his chin, your fuzzy brain wouldn’t let you stop smiling. jungle opened with back on 74 and both you and jisung sang along with the rest of the crowd, swaying side to side, your heads tilted upward to watch the stage. 

you weren’t careful of how much you leaned into him, you couldn’t, that power left you a drink and a shot ago. you completely relied on jisung’s strength to keep you held up as you relinquished the little core strength you had, your fingers on one hand gripping your jacket laid on his forearm, the other holding your drink. his body was sturdy, strong, it felt good pressed against you. your lips stretched to one side, the alcohol was hitting you more than you thought it would– from how often you’d been getting laid, you’d worked up something like a routine with your body, and here jisung was. 

“you comfortable?” he asked in your ear, deep voice sending vibrations through your entire body. 

you answered with a mhm that came deep in your soul, you were more than comfortable– you wanted him. 

your mind travelled as jungle played through their setlist, three songs deep now, you began to wonder if jisung wanted you, too. you tested the waters, pressing your back into him a little harder, but he stayed solid. you rolled your head to the side, let your fingers travel up and down his cotton clad arm, humming along to the song playing. 

his hands finally moved, fingers traveling down to your waist, to your hips, moving with you. a smile grew on your lips as you kept swaying to the music, body still pressed against him– you should be embarrassed with the amount of people around you, they could be watching you, eyes glued to the way your hips were moving on jisung. the thought was fleeting, you didn’t care– jisung, wanted you, too, that’s all that mattered. 

jisung and jungle.

his head came down to reach your ear again, “you know what you’re doing, right?” 

you smiled, an innocent one that he couldn’t see, “you said let’s have fun.” 

he laughed from behind you, a quick chuckle that had your neck bending to look up at him. his smile was intoxicating if you weren’t already, his lips so pink and plump, you wondered what they tasted like. he caught your eyes, seeming like he could read your mind, but he caught your eyes as they dipped down to his mouth and back up at his own. that only meant one thing.

something unreadable crossed his face before he was leaning down, attaching his lips to yours. his speed took you by surprise, as if he mentally said fuck it, but you were even quicker to reciprocate. opening your mouth ever so slightly you deepened the kiss, warmth spreading across your body, momentarily giving you reprieve before the awkward angle and the urge to have more of him consumed you. 

your drink fell to the dirt before your hands came up to cup his cheeks, body completely turning to face him so that your front pressed to his instead. his hands came to your hips again, planted firmly against your jeans, the tips of cold pinkies slipping underneath your hoodie, the chill of his fingers making you shiver. 

it was electric– it was exactly what you needed. your favorite band playing in the background, kissing a boy you’d only met today, this is what yunho was talking about. this was being twenty two, living, experiencing, doing things for the fuck of it… you were starting to hate when he was right. 

“hey,” he said between kisses, making you pull away, catching your breath. a hand came up to wipe at your wet bottom lip as he pressed his curl covered forehead against yours, your breaths still coming out uneven. his eyes were darker, even more glazed over, you wondered how that was even possible. he smiled, that same smile that just did you in moments prior, “i like you.” 

you didn’t miss a beat as you said, “then keep kissing me,” and found his lips again. 

he took a hand up to your jaw, tilting your head back, tongue slipping through your lips. you moaned, not a care in the world for the people around you. you would’ve asked him to take you in a port a potty if you weren’t interrupted a moment after. 

“damn,” you wouldn’t have bat an eye if it didn’t come from a voice you recognized. chan was giggling as he got closer to you, “i don’t know how we even recognized you, if you got any closer you might’ve merged into one.” 

you literally jumped, cheeks flushing as if you were a child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. chan wore the widest smirk on his red cheeks and you couldn’t help but scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. a grumble left your lips, “cockblocker.” 

following him were the rest of the boys one by one, slipping through spaces in the crowd to take their places around you as if they’d been searching for you. out of breath, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed as you and jisung took a step closer to one another again. you caught his eye, he wore the same look you did– horny, frustrated, disappointed. 

after your shared look you bit your lip out of annoyance, then your eyebrows shot to your hairline as you brought your empty palms out in front of you. you looked up to jisung, “where did my drink go?!”

jisung threw his head back in laughter before he pointed to the ground, your now empty cup crushed and covered in dirt. you pouted, “i dropped it?” 

“you don’t even remember?” he was still giggling, hand covering his mouth, the corners of his eyes crinkled. 

“here,” chan said, pushing his cup into your hand– whiskey, neat. you stared at the cup in your hand, face immediately falling, eyebrows furrowing and not because you didn’t like whiskey. you looked back up to chan and his eyes widened, hand lurching forward to grab it from your hands. “my bad, i’m sorry, ohmygod.”

another drink replaced its spot in your hand, a surfside, freshly cracked, still cold. you looked up to yunho in front of you, the one who put it in your hands, and he gave you a warm smile. “better, right?” 

“much, thank you,” a smile replaced your frown as you took a sip, body whipping around to watch jungle again. a heavy hand rested on your shoulder, yunho standing directly behind you. 

he bent down to your ear, much like how jisung did minutes ago, his voice lowered as he said, “pretend we’re not even here.” 

you thanked him with your eyes, body moving before you could process it, skipping to your spot in front of jisung again, where he immediately laid his arms over your shoulders. you hung your head forward, looking around for your group, jeongin and yeosang were holding hands now, san and chan standing too close for that to be nothing, yunho and jihoon silently watching the band. 

you smiled to yourself– despite being annoyed by their interruption, chan damn near pulling you off of jisung, you liked this. you liked chan’s friends being with yours, a blend of people you never would’ve expected hanging out, and enjoying it on top of it all. you wouldn’t mind if you did this more. 

as the familiar tune of i’ve been in love reverberates throughout the crowd, you gasp. “jisung!” you exclaim, your smile massive as you look up at him, “they’re playing it!” 

he beams, eyes full of warmth as he looks down at you, “they knew you were here.” 

you start rapping along, head leaning back onto jisung’s chest. to your surprise, he raps along with you, the two of you going word for word with the band. you looked up to him with shock written all over your face, the two of you getting louder as realization set in, as the song continued. you couldn’t help the stupid smile that you couldn’t wipe off your face, not that you tried– not that you even wanted to try. 

as the song nears its end, you thought over yunho’s words again. pretend we’re not even here.

if they weren’t here, you never would’ve stopped kissing jisung– you already missed his lips on yours. you tilted your head up, doe eyes to doe eyes, jisung was already staring back down at you. you smiled as you glanced down to his lips, a question on your own, one you didn’t have to ask because he wanted it, too. 

warm and soft, already slick with his spit, you could focus on how he felt this time instead of your drunken need overpowering your senses. with newfound clarity, the outcome was just as damning, getting lost in jisung’s lips was just as easy as the first time. keeping a loose hold on your can, you swung your body to face him without breaking the kiss, your other arm wrapping around his shoulder. 

“you’re so hot,” he mumbles into your lips, hands traveling up to your waist, beneath your hoodie. a chill racked through you as a soft noise left your lips, too gone to answer, too lost in the way he made you feel, the temperature of his fingertips against your skin. 

“leave with us, stay over tonight,” a statement that was also a question, jisung’s voice was heavy, a depth to it told you he needed you just as bad. 

“maybe,” you kissed him again, your voice airy, not here nor there. your surroundings had left you— it was only you and jisung in that moment, that’s all you cared about. you couldn’t think about after, you couldn’t think about mere minutes from now, all you could think was how you never wanted his lips to leave yours. 

you missed how yunho watched from his peripherals, how his eyebrows flattened, how his lips formed to a thin line. he couldn’t focus on the band in front of him, he knew you loved them, which made him love them, too, yet you weren’t even paying attention. yunho was dumbfounded— with you, with himself, with his own emotions— he didn’t know what to do. 

after decades of knowing you, his bright eyed, favorite girl, he didn’t think there was this much of you left to figure out. he’s watched you grow up, he himself grew up alongside you, he’s seen you through every phase, every change, but nothing could’ve prepared him for this one. 

random hookups throughout high school, college, none of that actually mattered— you already consumed his mind day and night, but after you started dating, he picked himself apart piece by piece, hoping to realize what you didn’t see in him. 

yunho looked to his left, yeosang was kissing jeongin now. that didn’t take him by surprise. 

yunho looked to his right, san was looking at chan with a hunger yunho had never seen in his eyes before. that should've been more surprising than it was. 

in front of the two boys were you and jisung, that made yunho want to crawl out of his skin. he saw you kissing him moments prior, he even told you to do so in other words, for a moment yunho thought maybe he was a masochist. a glutton for pain, for torture, whatever this feeling was as he stared at you, eyes closed, fingers tangled in that boy’s hair. 

yunho had to let go. he’d already fucked up, he’d already let too many of his feelings slip through the reins of his self restraint, he’s already endured you screaming in his face once, he’d die before he hurt you enough to do it again. he told himself this is just another phase, another change, you’ll come out of it smarter, more experienced, different. he can’t help but be a little scared that you’ll actually succeed in finding a boyfriend. 

as your face detaches from jisung’s to take a breather, yunho can see your glazed over eyes, your expression that read all of nothing, you’d been drinking for hours now without a morsel of food in your stomach. he’s seen you drunk, hammered, hurled over a toilet for hours on end— but you looked happy, which you haven’t in days, yunho didn’t want to interrupt but he didn’t want you throwing up in the dirt, either. 

yunho was at a crossroads. as jungle wrapped up their set and you unwrapped yourself from jisung’s embrace, your face changed, the knit of your eyebrow told him something wasn’t right. he was quick on his feet, two long strides had him at your side, asking you what’s wrong. 

“i dunno,” you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing, your free hand coming up to your face, cold palm pressed against your hot cheek. even through your mask of inebriation, he knew that look, he could read it all over you— this wasn’t about the boy, this was about mingyu. 

“let’s go home,” yunho bent down, level with your face to look into your eyes, he could see the tears before they formed. it put a knot in his stomach. 

“okay,” your voice was strained, raw. yunho felt like he’d been punched in the gut. he should've told you not to smoke, especially after drinking so much, he shouldn’t have brought you that last drink— he should’ve warned you that drinking wouldn’t fix anything. 

he looked up to jisung whose eyes were wide, eyebrows raised in confusion and concern. his voice was raised in pitch as he asked, “is she okay?”

yunho nodded quickly, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed to say she’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. your face hit his chest and he wished he could physically stop his heartbeat from quickening. years of loving you, spending time with you, being close to you, touching you— he always reacted the same. 

chan bounced over, worry in his voice, “hey, hey, hey,” he placed his hand on your back and it took every ounce of strength yunho had to not pull you away, but since chan is your friend, he’d allow it. chan leaned closer, “you okay?” 

you picked your head up to look at him, yunho couldn’t see your face but the look on chan’s told him enough, his eyebrows furrowed even further with worry. “did jisung—”

“no,” you sniffed, “it’s not jisung, just needa go home,” you slurred, shaking your head, “drank too much.” 

chan, who had heard the whole story from san earlier while waiting in line for the bar, looked up to yunho in understanding. for only knowing you a short time, he seemed to know a lot about you. yunho didn’t have the time to dissect the thought. 

yunho lifted his head up, yeosang and san already looking at him, at you, concern living in the crinkle between their eyebrows. yeosang stepped forward and yunho shook his head, knowing you’d be mortified in the morning if this became a bigger deal than it needed to be. 

“you ready to go home?” yunho tipped his chin upward in the direction of his two friends, keeping you tucked under his elbow in front of him. 

san and yeosang nodded silently, he watched as yeosang pecked jeongin goodbye, as san began walking away without another word to chan. for you, they’d do anything, they’d drop anything— it didn’t matter. 

“will you guys be okay getting home?” chan asked yunho, shoulders back, chin tilted up. 

“yeah, you?” yunho answered, already turning on his heel, barely giving chan time to respond. he needed you out of here, out of the crowd, he needed to get you air.

“tell her to call me when she feels better,” chan calls behind you, and san responds, but yunho barely hears him. 

the group of them shuffled through the crowd— why were they so deep in, anyways?— tucked under his left armpit, yunho was basically dragging you through the dirt. you were slumped into his side, mumbling something, feet barely carrying you. he debated putting you on his back. 

“what are you saying, tiny?” yeosang asked, just a step behind you, closer to your ear than yunho was. 

“my jacket,” you said a little louder, strain on your voice, “jisung has it.” a sob leaves your lips and yunho almost smiles, the fact that your jacket was the icing on the cake is so you. even completely done up you stayed unapologetically yourself. 

“should we call ace?” san asked from yunho’s other side, his eyebrows still knitted together. 

“what the hell is ace gonna do?” yunho replied, his tone curt, “let him have his weekend with reia, he doesn’t need to know. tiny will be fine.”

as you got to the outskirts of the crowd, yunho was bending down in front of you, his arms reaching behind him to hoist you onto his back. you were a deadweight, head slumped over his shoulder, arms limp around his neck. he carried you through the venue towards the main entrance without a word. 

you groaned when you finally reached the parking lot, followed by, “yun, i don’t feel good.” 

“ah, fuck,” he muttered under his breath, coming to a stop. “can you wait until we get home?” 

“put me down now,” you said hurriedly, fear apparent in your tone, and yunho bent down right away, standing back up when your sneakers hit the pavement. you crouched down, yeosang had caught it before yunho did— he stood behind you, your hair wrapped into a ponytail in yeosang’s fist as you emptied the contents of your stomach where yunho had just been standing. 

the four of you didn’t say another word until you were five minutes away from your house, the drive spent in silence— you’d spent it with your head halfway out the window, your sunglasses halfway down your nose, eyes shut. if it weren’t for the tears that streamed down your face every now and then, yunho would’ve assumed you were already knocked out.

“should i call him?” you asked the car, everyone already knew who, eyes still closed as you sat back in the cushioned seat. “i miss him, jisung was nothing like him. i wish he was there.”  

yunho was lucky you couldn’t see him— he physically winced at your drunken words. san eyed him from the passenger seat, but he paid his friend no mind. 

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, teens,” yeosang said calmly from the backseat, sitting close to your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. yunho watched as you laid your head on him, you didn’t answer him— maybe you fell asleep. he hoped you did. 

san carried you inside your house bridal style and laid you on your unmade bed, but yeosang was the one who had dressed you for bed. it became his responsibility the few times he’s had to do it— an unspoken rule amongst you. 

after a hot shower, yunho decided to check on you once more before heading to the guest room for bed. you were sitting over the side of your bed, eyes closed, chugging water from the bottle he’d placed on your nightstand. he only peeked his head in, but you caught him. 

“yunho?” you asked weakly, your voice small. 

he cursed under his breath, but he inched forward, coming into view. he looked around, clothes were strewn about your floor, clothes hanging out of the hamper— he didn’t realize until then how upset you really were. “you okay, teens?” 

you mumbled a mhm then laid back on your sheets, head falling onto your pillows. you turned your head to look at him, eyes crescents, “why can’t i find anyone that’s good for me?”

yunho sighed and walked forward, sitting at the edge of your bed. “you will.” 

“kissing jisung didn’t make me feel any better about mingyu,” you paused, yunho didn’t know if you’d continue. your lip trembled, “he was good for me.” 

yunho pulled his lips into a line— as much as he hated hearing it, if that's how you felt, he wouldn’t argue with you anymore. “why don’t you try calling him tomorrow?”

you whined, then closed your eyes, pulling your duvet over your body, up to your neck. “i’m tired of being mad at you.” 

yunho smiles at that— “i’m sorry i made you mad at me.” 

“will you stay with me tonight?” 

yunho’s eyes shoot open, his lips parting, his mind running a mile a minute. “what?”

“please,” you opened your eyes a little wider, they were still glassy— he was scared you might cry again if he said no, not that he wanted to say no. 

he couldn’t ask why, he couldn’t ask any questions at all. as you pulled up the corner of your duvet, in his tee shirt, all he could muster was “okay.” 

that was a lot, if ur still here i love u. tell me how u feel so i don't lose my mind pls

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tags: @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00 @minvxq @moonlightgrleric

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Our Song IIII

M.sturniolo

Summery: when you start to fall asleep on the triplet couch and Matt takes notice

THIS IS MY WORK AND MY IDEA! PLEASE DONT USE THIS AS “INSPIRATION” OR TAKE IT WITHOUT GETTING MY PERMISSION FIRST! thank you :)

MATTS POV

As me and Y/N walk down the stairs to the main floor of the hotel I can't help but feel small butterflies in my stomach. The way she looked around the hotel room that I paid for, made my heart swell as I realized that she truly was just as great of a person in real life as she was online.

“Should’ve just made you take the stairs,” I can hear Y/N huff from beside me. “My legs hurt already,” She says with a small pout as we reach the last flight of stairs.

“We’re almost there,” A small chuckle escapes with my words as we round the last corner in the stairwell.

Once we are on the road and back to my house I feel Y/N taking small glances in my direction, making me flush a little as we turn off of the main road. The drive from the hotel back to our house was short and didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get from one place to another.

As I pulled into the garage I noticed how tired Y/N looked and the small yawn that escaped her lips as she unbuckled the seatbelt from her body.

Y/N POV

Once we are all in the triplets house we are talking, a soda in Chris’s hands, getting to know each other better. On a more personal level one would say. Matt sat next to you on the couch, while Nick and Chris sat down at the other end.

As the conversation flows through the group, small yawns fall from your lips, the travel getting to you. You can feel your eyes growing heavy, your body feeling like it can’t move. You slowly stop talking, yawn after yawn leaving your lips as your eyes start to shut.

“Y/N, wanna go lay down in my room?” You hear Matt’s voice, it’s soft and warm. “My beds’ more comfortable than the couch.”

You can practically feel your eyes light up at his suggestion, a warm comfy bed after a long day of travel, sign me up. You nod your head tiredly, scooting to the end of the couch. Matt stands from the couch, holding his hand out for you. You take his hand with a small smile and follow him down the hallway and into the first door on the left.

You look around his room finding small items that match his personality. Some stuffed animals, a gravity falls poster hanging on the wall, and the famous Mr.wrinleton sitting perfectly in the middle of his bed. You let out a soft hum before taking a few more steps in behind him.

“Just make yourself at home, I just washed the sheets a few days ago..” Matt speaks softly. Watching as you kick your shoes off and climb into his bed, his side of the bed. A small smile forms on his lips as you sleepily grab a hold of Mr.wrinleton and mumble out a quiet ‘thank you’ before nodding back off to sleep.

MATTS POV

I shut the door quietly after I watch y/n drift to sleep, making my way down the hallway and back into the living room.

When I enter the living room I'm met with a grinning Nick and a giggling Chris. “What?” I ask.

“My beds’ more comfortable…” Nick repeats what I said about five minutes ago. “What, is that your way of flirting with her or something?”

“Yeah, I mean dude you’ve been making ‘fuck me eyes’ at her the whole time she’s been here… I'm surprised you even came back out of your room.” Chris adds on to Nick's question.

I scoff lightly at their interrogations, even though they are completely right. I did just want you to be comfortable, but I wanted you to be sleeping in my bed just a little more.

“How is that flirting? I was just being nice to our guest.” My voice squeaks as I try to lie to my brothers. I let out a sigh, knowing my voice cracking gave me away.

“You are trying to flirt!” Chris says rather loudly. I start to shush him, not only to not give me away, but to not wake you up. Chris lets out a few quiet giggles as he sits back on the couch, leaving me standing in front of him and nick.

“Listen, I don’t wanna make her uncomfortable if she doesn’t like me back.. so please don’t say anything and let me handle it.” I tell them, not wanting them to tell you before I can even get a chance to see if you could potentially feel the same way.

An: so sorry I’ve been MIA recently😬 hopefully getting back into it very soon, im finally in a good place in life and have been working on finding a good schedule and all that good stuff… anyways i hope you enjoyed this short but sweet chapter!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Two of a Kind 8

Masterlist

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Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.

Note: :)

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

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Ransom paces. He’s agitated. Charles always has to be the big man. Always has to be in control. That’s not how this works. This is a partnership. They are equal, in all their gains. It’s why they’re so efficient. 

So how come he’s out in the cold and Charlie Boy is cuddled up nice and close with the kitty. He bets he’s in there getting a double dip. Fucking unbelievable. 

Ransom snarls and flops onto the couch. His satin boxers tickle his tip and he hardens. He hasn’t fully calmed down. Every time he thinks about how she squeezed him, he tingles and twitches. Fuck, that was good. Who would’ve thought?  

He sighs and stands up. He charges down the hall to Charles’ room then stops. He strides back to the front room and retraces his steps a second time. He snarls and cracks his neck. They had a fucking deal. They share. So why is he in there hogging her all to himself? 

He closes his eyes and pictures her shivering in the tub. The tears streaked down her cheeks and the glistening, sticky aftermath of fucking all over her skin. The way he covered her has him fully hard. Fuck it, he’s not waiting until morning. 

He turns the handle and swings the door inward. The room is dark. He can smell the chamomile. Charles’ snores rumble in the dark. He always sounded like a pig in heat when he slept. Ransom slows as his eyes adjust to the dim. 

He sees her squirm. She’s under Charles’ arm. He thinks she’s awake, he swears he can feel her eyes on him. He nears quietly, placing each foot carefully, and bends over the side of the bed. He measures’ his accomplices snores. 

He runs his fingertips down her arm and wraps his fingers around her wrist. He’s lucked out and he’s not gonna pass up the prime opportunity. He tugs her and she whimpers. He hisses out a hush. She gulps and slides out from beneath the blankets and Charles’ arm. 

Ransom stops and pulls her to him as the other man grumbles and shifts onto his stomach. He puts his hand over her mouth to quiet her gasp and she presses flush to him. She’s still naked. 

He turns her and walks her toward the door. He ushers her into the hall as she awkwardly mimics his steps. He reaches back to close the door and she whines. 

“Please, I’m tired--” 

“Shut up,” he snarls. “You can sleep, I’ll still fuck you.” 

“But... Ransom... I... I thought you liked me--” 

He chuckles, sure to keep it low. He nudges her down the hall. He points over her shoulder. 

“I like what you can give me. Well, more what you have. By nature, really. Nothing special but those holes do the job,” he smacks her ass and reaches past her to open his bedroom door. “So why don’t you show them off for me, baby.” 

She curls her shoulders, looking even smaller, and his balls throb. He feels full even though he was aching moments ago. Been a while since he felt so... ready. Usually, he just rolls over and prays he wakes up to an empty bed. 

She hesitates and looks around. He huffs. She’s a bit stupid. Her fear gets him going but it’s also fucking annoying.  

He marches up and grabs the back of her neck. He urges her to the end of the bed and guides her to kneel on the cushioned bench, like a fucking dog. Mm, he likes that. She’s his. His obedient little pet. 

Her back racks visibly as she quivers. He gets behind her and pushes down his boxers, the fabric catching on his swollen tip. He growls and stretches the elastic past his length. He lets the satin fall to his feet and grabs her hip. 

He steps closer and presses his tip along your ass. He smears around the precum already trickling out and shudders. His entire body pulses at the sensation.  

The surge drives him. He bends his knees and leans over her. She whines as he traces down past her ring, a moment of intrigue before he finds her cunt. Charles wouldn’t forgive him if he took her ass without him. 

He glides between her swollen folds and feels her flinches. He groans and rubs against her cunt. He pushes against her opening and she drones as she tenses. Her body resists his intrusion but it only goads him on. 

He snaps his hips and breaks through. She cries out and he once more brings his hand to her mouth. He puts his other on the bench as he bends over her and thrusts again. It takes several tilts for him to bottom out as she sobs into his palm. 

Her agony fills him with smoky delight. Fuck. Her walls throb, milking him as he tries to fight the pressure. He can’t blow already. 

He rolls his hips slowly, enjoying the feeling of her around him, so tight and slick, then the tingle of the naked air around him as he pulls out. In, out. He stands up, bringing her with him, and watches himself pump into her. Shit. Don’t, don’t, don’t. 

He exhales away the swell and carries on. He covers half her face with his hand and ruts harder and harder, pausing after each rippling slap of skin. He leans his head back as his eyes roll into his skull. Her fractured voice is smothered by his palm and she quakes uncontrollably at his mercy. 

He spasms as he erupts, unable to hold it in any longer. He fills her up as he fucks his cum into her until it squelches and leaks out. Even then, he doesn’t stop. He could keep her on him forever. 

👄

You stare at Ransom’s back. Your insides crawl and threaten to spill over. You stare at his muscles, the power woven through them, and you feel the weakness in you. 

His breath rises and falls as you lay in the soft hue cast through the window. You suppress a groan as you turn onto your back. It takes all you have to sit up. You hunch over and touch your pelvis as it scalds.  

You nearly stumble out of the bed. You limp to the door and glance back at his sleeping figure, focusing on him to make sure he isn’t awake. You slip through the door, leaving it slightly open, and creep down the hall. 

Your clothes are still on the floor. You dress in the grim night shade. The friction of fabric on your skin makes you wretch. You can’t stand even that. You never want to be touched again. 

You find your shoes and bag by the door. You stop to listen to the house as you put your coat on. You take out your phone before you flip back the lock. You sneak out into the whipping gales and steel yourself for the walk home. At least, you hope you find your way back. 

You open your maps app and follow the small blue arrow through the desolate night time. Each step is torture. When you trip off a curb, you feel it inside. 

You cry again, here and there, replaying the night in your head. Reliving your own mistakes. How could you ever believe Ransom? You really thought he was into you... 

Your mom can’t know. She’d be horrified. Or... what if she doesn’t believe you? 

That hurts more than anything they did to you. No one would believe you. If they did, they’d say it was your fault. You went to his house, you stayed there with both of them, you didn’t fight hard enough. No, you let them use you. 

You stop and sit on a bench. You know this part of town. You’re just too tired to keep going. You just need a minute. Or two. Or three. 

It takes you a while to get up again. Shivering, you watch the battery on your phone drain. You put it away as you recognise the street signs. It’s like a maze as you struggle to push through the pain and the blistering wind. 

You just want to go home and forget tonight. Forget it like it never happened. 

As you reach your front door, you fumble for the keys. You ease inside, keeping your steps soft and sitting to take off your boots. You hug your bag, huddling over it, and shuffle down the hall. The light flicks on above you. 

You blanch as your mother’s voice calls after you. You inhale and face her, hoping she can’t see your sadness. You force a smile. 

“Mom...” 

“There you are,” she says. “I’ve been waiting all night. I thought you’d be home before me.” 

“I’m sorry, mom, I... I lost track of time--” 

“You couldn’t call, or message?” 

“I know, mom. I—I—” You stutter. “I’m an adult.” 

She scoffs, “I know that but I worry.” 

“It’s okay--” 

“Okay? Out all night with a boy. You never know what could happen.” 

You sniffle, “mom.” 

“I’m just trying to look out for you, honey.” She girds and lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry, but... I’m just glad you’re safe.” 

She comes forward and you tremble. You want so desperately to hug her and cry against her. No, like you said, you’re an adult, you made this decision. 

“Well, did you have fun?” She asks. 

The question nearly bowls you over. You stare at her dumbly and shrug. She smiles and snickers, “oh, you don’t have to tell me everything.” 

Good, because you’re not telling her anything.