#no wait you'll have to wait for that sorry

[cream1111]

🍎 phone call. . .ᐟᅟ

⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀caleb/mc!reader, 1.6k, incest, somno, dubcon, mutual masturbation, phone sex, pillow humping. @rukii-afterdark , order up! ! part 1

ring ring . . .

you jolt up, eyes popping open before they settle onto your phone, with a groan you pull it closer. squinting  your  sleepy  eyes  at  the  bright  screen, you see the caller's name. caleb. you sigh, it's  1am,  much  later  than  he  usually  calls. you answer and let the phone fall next to your head.

“gege,  why  are  you  calling  so  late?”  you  whine, fighting back a yawn.

“aw,  did  i  wake  you? you sound like you're half asleep”  caleb  sounds teasing but sympathetic, and  slightly  out  of  breath...  maybe  he's  settling  into  bed  himself.

“yeah  a  bit,"  you groan a bit, your annoyed tone remaining playful "but  it's  ok…  what's  up?”  you  ask,  closing  your  eyes,  and  snuggling  back  into  your  bed.  letting  your  phone  rest  on  the  pillow  next  to  your head. 

“it's nothing serious,  i just missed  you,  l⎯”  his  breath  hitches. you  peek  your  eyes  open and  glance  at  your  phone, wondering if the call dropped. you don't have the volume very high, so you're not sure. you  pull  it  closer,  it looks like the call is still going. you press it against your ear.  it's not entirely silent, there's  a  shuffling  sound,  but it's  faint.

“are  you  ok?”  you  murmur,  confused. the shuffling seems to stop, but it's hard to tell under the barely audible droning static his mic is picking up. you let your eyes drift shut again.

“sorry,  yeah,  just,  long  day.”  he  replies  quickly,  his  voice  sounding  more  strained.  “what  about  you?  miss  me?” 

“of  course,  everyday,  you  know  that.” you'd roll your eyes if they weren't already closed. as much as you love talking to caleb, you really are tired. "listen, it's late⎯"

"i know, pipsqueak. i'm sorry for waking you. i just wanted to hear your voice." there's a tinge of urgency to his voice. you would've hurried to hang up if you didn't notice it. it makes you feel a bit guilty. he pauses, you wait to see if he'll say more. "how about this, how about you just go back to sleep but keep me on call. hearing your sleepy breathing always puts me at ease"

is that all?

"you're so cheesy," you tease. then you hum, pretending to think about it. but you're just as bad as he is, you can't ever say no to him. "yeah, fine, but i'm really going to bed, you better not keep talking to me. i won't even answer, i'll just snore"

he let's out a soft chuckle. "that's fine, snore all you like" he replies. "sleep well" he whispers, honey sweet. he's always been so sweet with you.

"goodnight" you mumble, already feeling the drowsiness washing over you. you try to quell the small excitement that caleb even wants to do something so lovey dovey with you. it warms your heart a bit, not that you'd admit it out loud. even though it's not that much of a leap, you've fallen asleep together so many times, something about it feels a little more intimate. that he misses you enough to try and pretend you're both sharing a bed. it makes it easier to pretend he is here, he's home and he's with you, keeping you warm.

your breathing evens out, you almost forget you're on the phone.

. . .

through your sleep you hear something, softly, distant. you focus, waking just a bit. you're alone. but you remember you fell asleep on the phone with caleb. is he talking? something woke you, you're pretty sure. you rouse yourself, focusing, listening.

nothing. it might've been in your dream. though you figure you'll scold him anyways, tell him to keep quiet or you'll mute him. but then you hear it again, clearer now.

"h-hah..."

no way. there's no way, is he⎯

"ah⎯ fuck"

you freeze. a blush heating up your face. you shift closer, turning up the volume as quietly as you can. just to be sure. you hear the sound of something moving, fast, wet. he's...

he's jacking off. it sounds so obvious now. the soft panting, the rhythmic sound of his hand on his well lubricated cock. a heat surrounds you, you feel like you're suffocating at the implication. there's also a gnawing unease, that you're misinterpreting this and there's some reasonable explanation that you are blind to. maybe you're just hearing what you want to hear.

you've always wanted him, more than a sister should. you rationalize it sometimes, you're not siblings, not really. it's not hard to want him, it seems just about every girl at his school would agree with you. but the shame helps you weigh those thoughts down, tuck them away in a deep corner of your mind. your relationship is unconventional, but you're just close, you just love each other, would do anything for each other, there's nothing wrong with it. you've held onto this justification for a long time.

but maybe it's a lot simpler than that.

you're not entirely sure about what's happening, if he's doing what you think he's doing. but… it couldn't hurt to pretend.

your rationalizations fade, you push the shame to the side, and you dip your fingers, along your chest, slowly, savoring the feeling. focusing on the panting, the faint sound of his hand.

your fingers dance along your skin, you're teasing yourself, until you slip them past your pajamas, over your panties. you palm yourself, rubbing, imagining the sweet friction was against him, anywhere — his hand, his thigh, his face. you realize, rather quickly, a wet spot has already formed, and you flush, feeling embarrassed with yourself.

did just the thought of him, the sound of him, do this to you?

when did you become so dirty.

you can't help the soft noise that leaves your lips at your discovery, and you realize suddenly that caleb quiets on the other the line.

you pause as well. holding your breath. for a second you can't hear anything. does he think you're awake? does he think you're doing the same thing? does he want to end the call?

"f-fuck..." he moans out, the sounds from before continue, faster, more enthusiastic. you're not sure what he thinks, but whatever it is, he's keeping it to himself.

the idea of him getting more excited, it lights a fire in you. you rub yourself faster. you try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't help the huffs and sighs that leave your lips. it's not that obvious, you think. but caleb seems to get more eager with every tiny sound you make. it's good incentive.

you can't help but think about the situation, both of you touching yourselves while on the phone, not acknowledging it, leaving room for plausible deniability. the idea that you're reading this wrong sends a shiver down your spine.

“ngh.. please” he whispers, barely there. and you don’t know what he’s begging for but you want to give it to him. you rub harder, then sigh in frustration. it's not enough. you flip, shifting onto your stomach, trying your hardest to stay quiet. you place a pillow between your legs, and waste no time before grinding against it.

you huff, loving the feeling. even if you're misunderstanding this, you like pretending. that it was his warm body heating you up, making you feel good. with your phone placed next to your ear, you imagine he was there, groaning behind you, just out of sight, touching himself for you.

you let out a whimper at the thought, a little louder. his response is immediate, a low groan. to your surprise, he speaks.

"you⎯ mm... you must be having a nice dream, pipsqueak."

you bite your lip and keep still at his words. does he want you to respond? does he really think you're still sleeping? you don't want to acknowledge it. you continue, quieter, a little shy. you don't want the illusion shattered. grinding your hips into the mattress, desperate.

you imagine his body, and it's not hard. you've memorized the feeling of his frame against yours. he's pressing into you, in time with his groans, you move at the same pace, whimpering when you buck back against the empty air. but you pull yourself back into your fantasy, he's there, his soft sounds are for you, only you.

"fuck," he hisses out, seeming to bite back the sound.

it's becoming too much, your mind is getting so cloudy, reason and shame seem like distant concepts. in this moment, it’s just the pleasure between you two, his touch, his kiss, his body, him.

"i'm— i'm gonna-" his whispers spur you over the edge.

you can barely hear his grunts as he releases with you. your mind goes blank. you don't bother with being quiet, couldn't if you wanted to. you rut helplessly, greedily, panting and whimpering all the while. as satisfaction washing over you. he hums, before letting out a satisfied sigh himself, and you smile sleepily into your pillow.

but as your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, and your face cools down, you're left with a pit in your stomach. the room feels colder, the call is quiet, the guilt comes rushing back all at once with nothing to keep it at bay. did you two really just do that? were you really that reckless?

what are you going to do in the morning?

"shit, i made a mess." he mumbles, but he doesn't sound too upset about it. in fact he sounds a little smug. you don't reply, but it calms you a bit, brings you comfort. a vague acknowledgement at this new game you two are playing. with all it's plausible deniability. you decide you'll follow his lead.

so when he yawns, you let the sound soothe you, you let sleep surround you. you leave your shame to him. he's always been the source, he can shoulder it for you.

it's only fair anyways, you were just sleeping, and he's the one who called you.

he made the mess, he can decide if he wants to clean it up.

[yoyomomiko]

Hiiii, I love your writing sm! <33

Could you write monster trio hcs with an s/o who is completely oblivious to their flirting?

Obvs u don't have to write this if u don't wanna! :]

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: luffy doesn't really flirt (I don't know how luffy would be flirting I'm sorry), not proofread , probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): okay so like... I kind of got carried away and didn't really stay with the request and I just realized it now that i'm done writing :(( it just doesn't feel right, I mean, they're not really flirting... it's more like, indirect flirting, you know?? i'm veryyy sorry!!! :(( -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy doesn't even understand the concept of flirting, he simply doesn't know how to flirt. He just does things that feel right, like holding your hand all the time or hugging you randomly.

He CONSTANTLY invades your personal space, leaning in way too close when he talks, but you just assume he's always like that (which, in a way, is true).

Luffy will offer you food, which is a huge deal, but you just think he's being generous and thank him without reading into it.

He calls you "his favourite person" or "his girl", but you just assume it's meant to be platonically.

He'll grab your hand and swing it while walking, and when you ask why he simply shrugs. "Dunno, feels right!"

If another guy talks to you, Luffy pouts and clings to you, but you just think he's being his usual affectionate self.

If you ever find yourself in danger, Luffy's protective instincts go overdrive. However, he doesn't exactly know how to express it in a way that makes sense.

He gives you his hat when it's sunny, grinning at you joyfully, like it's a big deal. And then you're just like "Aw, thanks!" And you don't understand why he looks so disappointed (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Luffy likes sitting next to you during meals, pressing his leg against yours. But you just pull away since you think he just needs more room.

He LITERALLY tells you "I like you a lot!" And you're just like "I like you too!" And ruffle his hair.

He tells you that he'll protect you forever, with the most serious expression ever, and you'll just assume he's being a good captain.

Whenever you hug him, he picks you up and spins you around, grinning like an idiot.

He trusts you with his hat. Like, he trusts you. He lets you wear it all the time, because he knows you'll take care of it. Heck, he's the one placing it on your head! You don't really think much of it, though.

Eventually, Luffy gets frustrated and just blurts out "I wanna be your boyfriend!" And waits for you to finally get it.

———☆

Luffy had been looking for you all morning, walking around the ship, asking everyone where you were. When he finally spotted you on the deck, sitting with Usopp, he rushed over excitedly. He felt his chest tighten whenever he saw you talking with anybody else, but he always brushed it off.

"[Y/N]! I need you!" Luffy grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Usopp's conversation.

"What's wrong?" You asked, chuckling a bit at his sudden enthusiasm.

"I just wanted to talk to you! You always hang out with everyone else, but you never hang out with me!" Luffy pouted, pulling you along toward the bow of the ship. He threw himself down on the ground dramatically, patting the spot next to him. "Come, sit with me!"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit amused as you leaned over him. "Are you really this clingy all the time?" You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Yeah!" Luffy exclaimed with a wide grin, nudging you to sit next to him. As soon as you sat down, he immediately leaned against you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I just like being close to you. You're my favorite person!"

You smiled and ruffled his hair, thinking he was being his usual goofy self. "You're my favourite person too." You replied, smile widening a bit. "You're a great captain."

He grinned, but then he got serious, standing up straight, staring at you. "No, no, I mean... I like you! I really like you!" He repeated, a little louder this time, a faint pink decorating his cheeks.

You blinked at him, not quite processing it. "Aw, that's sweet! I really like you too."

Luffy just whined, burying his face in his hands as he quietly mumbled something under his breath. You just laughed, patting him on the back as he continued whining. "I think you need a nap, Luffy!"

— ZORO

Zoro isn't the best with words, so his flirting is more about physical gestures, like carrying your things and such.

He always makes sure to sit next to you, no matter where you are, but you just assume it's a coincidence.

He trains shirtless around you more than necessary, subtly flexing, but you never seem to notice.

Speaking of training, he helps you train, standing behind you to correct your form, giving you advice.

I already said he's not the best with words, but he has a tendency to compliment you, although not directly. He might praise your abilities in a fight. You don't really think twice about it, but to Zoro, it's his own form of adoration for you.

He always glares at Sanji when he's flirting with you, but you just think they're bickering as usual.

If another man shows interest in you, Zoro's natural reaction is to stare them down with a glare. You'll never notice his intense gaze, because you think that he's just annoyed by something unrelated.

If you ask for help reaching something, he doesn't just simply hand it to you. He lifts you up effortlessly, just as an excuse to feel you in his arms.

If you're tired, he'll literally carry you to the girl's room. You just think he's being a good friend, as if he does it for everyone else (he doesn't).

He loves it when you nap near him during his training, he just likes your presence. You always think it's just because he's comfortable around you.

If you get hurt, he's the first to scold you. "Be more careful." He's the one patching you up, not letting Chopper get near you (unless it's a serious injury).

Zoro's way of showing affection is through silent protection. You'll never notice that he's doing it for you specifically, and he won't say anything to make it obvious.

He also kind of teases you playfully, as a form of affection. He'll make fun of you when you do something silly, but he's never too mean about it.

He gets SUPER protective in battle, always watching your back. He can't bring himself to look at you badly wounded.

Literally EVERYONE notices how protective he is of you, but somehow you never do. Even strangers think so.

Like I've said before, he finds excuses to touch you. For example, gently guiding you through crowds by the small of your back.

He also somehow always catches you when you trip. Right before you hit the ground, he's there, arms wrapped around you and helping you stand back on your feet.

Eventually, he just grabs your face one day and says something like "Damn it, I like you. Get it now?"

———☆

You were standing near the railing, gazing out at the ocean, watching the sunset, completely lost in your thoughts. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps approaching behind you.

"You've been standing there forever. You lost or something?" Zoro's voice came from beside you, his usual gruff voice a little softer.

You glanced at him as a smile tugged at your lips. "Nah, just thinking. The ocean looks really pretty right now."

Zoro leaned against the railing next to you, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't exactly great at this whole flirting thing, but if Sanji could do it, how hard could it be? He decided to go for something subtle. Something cool.

"Yeah, well..." He muttered, his gaze lingering on you a second too long. "It's not the only thing that looks pretty around here."

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. "Oh yeah! The ship looks great in this lighting too." You smiled as you took a look around, completely missing the way Zoro's expression dropped.

He sighed, shaking his head slightly before he tried again. "That's... Not what I meant."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Oh, you meant the sunset, huh? Yeah. It's really nice."

Zoro stared at you for a long moment, his lips parting slightly, trying to process how this was going so terribly wrong. He tried again, this time leaning just a little closer, lowering his voice. "I was talking about you, idiot."

You blinked at him, slightly tilting your head to the side. "Me?"

Zoro nodded, waiting, praying for the realization to hit you already.

"Ohhh." You finally broke the silence, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat.

"That's really sweet, Zoro! You think I look nice too?" You chuckled, as if he had just complimented your outfit instead of attempting to flirt with you.

Zoro groaned, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, sure, that's what I meant..." He mumbled, admitting defeat.

You gave him a friendly pat on the back. "You're getting a lot nicer, you know that? I think hanging around me is softening you up."

He let out a quiet scoff, turning his gaze back to the sea. "Or maybe I'm just like that with you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

— SANJI

Sanji is the king of exaggerated compliments. Every time he looks at you, it's as if he's seeing the most beautiful person in the world. "My darling, the moon is jealous of your beauty tonight." is a pretty common line from him, but you just think it's his usual behavior.

He constantly tries to impress you with his cooking. He'll make your favourite dish and serve it with grace, and when you compliment the food, he blushes as if you're complimenting him. You thank him every time, but in your mind, it's just good manners.

He will find any excuse to help you with something, even if it's small, like picking up something you dropped. And the moment you thank him for it he's like "Anything for you my lovely lady!" You just smile and move on because he does that with pretty much every woman.

Sanji's always the first one to offer you his jacket when it gets cold. Sometimes, when he gets brave, he wraps it around your shoulders and makes sure to linger closer to you for just a little longer.

He has a soft spot for you when you're sad, and he'll stop whatever he's doing to comfort you. He'll hold your hand, stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings. You just assume it's because he's a gentleman, not because he's crushing on you hard.

Sanji can be pretty possessive, especially when another guy is even slightly flirting with you. You'll catch him glaring, and if anyone so much as dares to brush against your arm, he'll throw a fit. That person might get a foot to the face, but who knows!!

Whenever you compliment his cooking or his fighting skills, he gets way more flustered than with anyone else. His eyes will turn into hearts, and he'll literally swoon.

Sanji often stares at you with wide starry eyes but when you catch him, he'll just say something like "Oh, nothing! Just admiring my beautiful angel." You think he's being his usual self or just lost in thought.

He makes a huge deal out of holding the door for you, pulling your chair at dinner and guiding you with his arm. But you think it's just because he's being polite. He tries to take your hand as he walks you around, but you just think he's offering help, never suspecting that he's being a little more than just polite.

After all his dramatic declarations of love, he finally cracks. One evening, while you're standing by the railing, he walks up to you and throws himself down at your feet. "I cannot live without you! You're my everything, and I need you to understand that!"

———☆

Sanji had been watching you all day. When you first arrived and joined the crew, he had already been swooning, but now, after spending this much time with you, he was completely smitten. He had made your favourite dessert just for you, and now he was patiently waiting for you to notice.

You peacefully sat on the deck, reading a book, when Sanji rushed over, holding a plate of freshly made pastries. "Ah, my darling! I've made these just for you!" He smiled, leaning down with a hand on his chest in a dramatic bow. "Only the finest for my beautiful lady."

You looked up from your book, a little surprised. "Oh, Sanji! Thank you so much! You really didn't have to, but I appreciate it!"

Sanji's heart skipped a bit as you reached for one of the pastries, giving him a sweet smile. "Anything for you, my love." He muttered, but his voice came out softer, almost like a whisper. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world. He pressed a hand to his heart, praying you couldn't hear how loud it was beating.

You giggled, thinking nothing of it as you took a bite from the pastry. "This is so good! I don't think I've said this enough, but you're really talented."

He blinked, and his face turned pink, clearly flustered by the compliment. "I only make the best for you, [Y/N]." He replied, his voice shaking just slightly. He leaned in a little closer, almost as if hoping you'd get the hint. "You deserve nothing less."

You looked up, gazing at him, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Sanji. I appreciate it..."

He sighed dramatically and placed a hand to his forehead. "Oh, my sweet [Y/N], how I adore you..." His voice trailed off as he stared into the distance.

"You okay?" You tilted your head, genuinely concerned. But once again, completely oblivious to how he was really feeling.

He slumped forward onto the table, groaning in agony. "I don't think I can take it anymore..." He mumbled under his breath, barely audible. "Why can't you see how I feel?!"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[witherby]

Wait I kinda wanna see mousy’s blow up 🤭

You can absolutely see the blow up 😏

The Littlest Wayne: Boiling Point

The post that inspired this response is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

You can't remember what started the argument. An errant comment, some joke in poor taste, an accusatory question — it could have been anything. All you know is that you said something you felt was important, Damian ignored it, Tim dismissed it, and Dick acted like you hadn't said it to begin with, and now you're livid and don't want to finish your dinner.

"May I be excused," you say to Alfred, already pushing your chair back from the table before he can respond. Your grandfather gives you a concerned look, but nods.

"Shall I bring something up to you later, young master?" He asks. You don't know if you'll have any appetite by then, but you agree anyway to spare his feelings.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asks, frowning as you stand to leave. "I haven't seen you in a week, honey. Even if you're not hungry, can you sit a while?"

"Whose fault is that," you snap. The room gets real quiet after that, a mixture of surprise and incredulity painting your father's face.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not making you go anywhere, dad," you scowl, "if you missed me then you'd find the time to see me."

"Hold on. I don't think that's very fair," Hal speaks up, reaching for your hand. You pull it away from him. "Mouse —"

"It's fine," you say, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. I'm well aware. It's fine. We'll spend time together some other day. Go stop a robbery or rescue some damsels or something."

"What's with the 'tude, Flitty?" Dick pipes up, standing to block the door. "Pump the brakes for a sec. Talk to us."

"Talk to you? What, so when you inevitably forget this conversation happened you can pretend we never had it to begin with?" You sneer at your brother, looking him up and down. "No thanks. I'm not interested in being gaslit today."

"Gaslit?" Dick balks, looking like you struck him. "I've never —"

"Let them go, Dick," Tim says, twirling a bite of pasta around his fork. "It's just hormones. They'll go back to normal by tomorrow."

"Oh, of course it's just hormones," you scoff, whirling around to point a finger at Tim. "If it's got a logical explanation it's not worth dwelling on. Isn't that right? I can't be upset because I'm just going through puberty! There's no way it's acceptable for me to be upset over anything! My feelings don't matter, so they should be swept under the rug, just like your parents did to you!"

Tim drops his fork in surprise. A bit of pasta sauce hits Damian's check, and he grabs his napkin with an irritated grumble.

"This is such nonsense," the boy mutters.

"Everything that doesn't interest you personally is nonsense," you hiss at your youngest brother. "God forbid someone try to share their love for a hobby that's outside of what you find enjoyable. If the Blood Son doesn't give it his seal of approval, it's not worth the effort! Honestly, I should feel grateful you've blessed us with your presence at all! Surely your inferior siblings are barely worth your invaluable time!"

Your heart's racing. All the little, irritating things about your family that's been piling up inside you are spilling out. Your anger turns the internal hurt into external jabs and low blows, the darkest part of you wanting them to feel just a fraction of your pain at how flippantly they treat you sometimes.

"Sorry, did that upset you, Dami? Aww, it's okay! Like Tim says, it's just an emotional response brought on by some underlying factor! It won't last so it's not worth devoting your time to! And if you're like Dicky, you can just wave it away and say it never happened, no matter what you show him to prove it did! Maybe if you hadn't had the time to make it to dinner and spent weeks or months rushing off to do something more important at the start, you wouldn't have to sit through this conversation at all! Hope that helps!"

A hand comes down on your shoulder, silencing your rant. You whip around to find Jason staring down at you with a heartbroken frown. He looks so genuinely upset that any remaining anger dissipates immediately.

"Mousey," he whispers, "stop. Take a breath."

He looks so blurry. You blink a couple times and realize your panting and crying. No one will look you directly in the eyes except for Alfred, who's visibly tired. There's pity in his eyes.

It stings. God. Everything stings. Your face flushes with color as you realize what you've said and done. You want the earth to open up and swallow you.

It doesn't have to be the earth.

Before anyone can protest, your shadow wraps around your ankles and drags you down, then dissipates.

"Mouse, don't —" Jason kneels on the floor, just a hair too slow. "Fuck."

[littelovelunette]

u should honestly continue the increasing percentages fic and just have it everytime reader goes to her extra private class w sevika she starts by teaching at the beginning all the time but then they just always end up fucking

Improving Percentages (2)

Contains smut, nipple clamps, sadistic sevika, clit play, inflatable anal plug, fingering, dildo

Sevika had you once again bend over her lap as she fingered your pussy, orgasm gushing out of your hole as the book remained discarded on the ground, long forgotten.

It was a Wednesday evening and you were definitely learning a lot.

Sevika let you up, "Felt good, mhm?" She watched as you got on your knees in front of her, We can't keep doing this," you said, leaning in to let your face rest against one of her muscular thighs.

"Once word gets out, you'll lose your job," your voice was sad, almost breaking in the end with emotion. You loved this woman and didn't want her losing her job over her love or lust or whatever she had for you.

"I'll be fine," Sevika's hand came down to cup your face gently, thumb stroking your cheek.

You leaned in to let your teeth sink into her leg a little making Sevika throw her head back with a subtle moan coming out of her throat.

"Does that feel good?" You asked nervously, looking up at the professor.

"Mhm, keep doing, doll," Sevika raised her hips off the chair just so you could bring her pants down along with her shorts, cupping her pussy.

Bushy hair crowned the pubic area only adding more to her beauty in your eyes. Hands worked diligently as you sunk the fingernails of one hand in her thigh while your other hand's fingers found her clit, rubbing over it gently.

"F-fuck, I taught you well," Sevika breathed out shakily as she felt your fingers nervously delve into her wet cavern.

Fingers scissoring through her folds to help her loosen a little, you looked up again and Sevika easily recognised that look. "Yes, baby, doing well," Sevika let one hand reach and caress your head lovingly.

"Such a good girl..." She cooed, letting out a sharp gasp as her liquids gushed down your fingers.

Weeks passed the same way as every other time you both had a private lesson together— if you did good in an exam she'd reward you and if you did bad she'd punish you and boy was she harsh with her punishments.

"O-Oh, gosh, please, it hurts," you could only whimper as she pumped the plug to inflate further in your clenching asshole.

Sevika has scheduled one extra class at her house for a particularly harsh punishment waiting for you.

You were on the floor, apologising and sobbing, the dildo lodged in your pussy made you clench onto it desperately to try to feel some sort of pleasure through the pain in your asshole which was stretching to it's possible limits from the plug.

Sevika would slap you harshly every now and then, your breasts were out, clothes discarded on the floor. The harsh nipple clamps on your nipples were squeezing your swollen nubs painfully.

Both the clamps were connected to one another along with a chain that Sevika would pull on every now and then to ground you and remind you of your place.

The inflatable buttplug sent a sharp pain through your rectum.

"I'll do better, I'm sorry," you babbled pathetically, Sevika smirked a little, using her foot to let the boot rub against your clit.

"Oh, dolly, are we tired already?" Her voice was condescending as she pressed her boot against your clit harshly.

"A-Ah, please, ma'am..." You looked up, tears streaming down from your, by now bloodshot, eyes.

Sevika sighed, she couldn't resist that look any longer.

She let the buttplug deflated before carefully letting it slip out of your asshole and pulled you up in a gentle embrace, lifting you off your feet so she could place you on the bed.

"Just study next time, mhm?" Sevika kissed your forehead, "Be a good doll, lay back, let me clean you off."

Sevika massaged your body to ensure that you weren't trembling and shaking anymore from the pain and made sure you used the bathroom and freshened up before you could leave her house.

She also made you take a nape because of how bloodshot your eyes were.

For now, you had to avert your gaze from your parents, your eyes were still swollen from crying so much and a dull pain in your asshole was a constant reminder that you needed to study and get your grades back up.

Sevika never answered your question, you were left wondering how long she'd continue her affair with you, her student.

[knightjpg]

landslide | chapter 4

chapter tags: alcohol mention, reader has a toxic boyfriend, implied cheating on reader by said boyfriend

prev | next

You dream of the ocean. 

Blue against blue, hot dry sand between your toes. The aftermath of salt under your tongue. You're swimming. You look, feet kicking, hands paddling, but there's no shore to break your line of sight. The horizon stretches until it fades, a blurry blue line as vast as the world. 

You don't feel afraid. You're just tired. Your arms and legs feel so heavy, and the water feels heavy, too. Waves are coming faster, weightier; you dip below and break through the surface— 

until you're pulled under. 

Buried alive under big heaving wells, swallowed down by surface gravity. You claw against the water, desperate, fighting for air— 

and cough yourself awake. Your chest hurts, tight with the remnants of your nightmare, and for a split second you feel panic when a weight presses on you; but it's just Kettlebell who curled up on top of you somewhere during the night. 

Upon feeling your hand in his fur his head lifts, big dark eyes blinking hello. Then he yawns and hops off you. Now that you're awake his job is done, and he can go annoy Mim in peace. 

When you swing your legs over your bed you groan, pressing a hand to your forehead. Your temple throbs, occasional pinpricks of pain shooting like stars over your eyes. 

Last night comes back to you slowly. 

The bar, the too-many drinks, no sight of Dave. The kind stranger who listened to your blubbering about your boyfriend. 

Hot shame rushes through you now that you recall your words in the wondrous, headache-inducing light of sobriety. God. You totally unloaded on a guy you'd never met before and then he... 

He called you a cab, didn't he? And made sure you were sent home. 

You bury your head in your hands and mouth the words what on earth is wrong with me. 

The mortification is enough to eat you alive. You vow you'll never let it get that far again—with alcohol or waiting for Dave that long. Speaking of which... 

You raise your head and grab for your phone. Predictably there's an apologetic text from Dave waiting for you: 

01:24 Srry missed your calls, smthing came up with a friend x 

You stare at the screen for a long moment. 

Slowly, like your fingers haven't quite made up their mind yet about replying, you type out an answer. 

08:50 I waited a long time for you. 

You chew your lip as you send it, feeling anxious and small. When Kettlebell returns to the bed to let you know his and Mim's food bowls are still offensively empty, you shake yourself out of it and go through the motions of your morning routine.  

Before you hop in the shower, however, you can't resist another peek: 

09:22 Make it up to you? 

You exhale.  

See? He doesn't say it explicitly, but he's sorry. He'll make it up to you. He cares about you.  

Life happens, things get in the way. You have to believe that. What is a relationship if you can't trust your partner? 

What is a relationship if not the feeling of throwing yourself off the tightrope and waiting for the other to catch you mid-fall? 

“Wear the sluttiest one you have,” Liv says. Her voice crackles on speakerphone; her face is out of frame on the video call, bending down to apply her eyeliner. 

You laugh. “The sluttiest—? God, I don't know if I even have anything like that.” 

You sift through your clothes again, slowly, pulling out one or two things that might make the cut. It's been a while since you've gone out with just friends, just for fun, just for yourself. 

Without Dave. 

He hasn't made good on his promise to make it up to you yet—says that with his holiday coming up he's extra busy, has to make sure things don't fall apart once he leaves. 

The reminder of the stupid Bora-Bora trip with his stupid marketing colleague has been enough to leave you on edge.  

And while you don't think Liv and you will ever become best friends she's been kind. When you texted her in a fit of tears about Dave flaking on you again you expected excuses for his sake— 

You're so lucky! 

—but instead she called him a cunt and said you should join her and some others to go dancing. Shake your ass and make him regret on losing out on time with you, she'd said, and even though it's not your thing you agreed. 

If only to feel like you could. 

“Wait, what's that one? The black one?” Liv peers into the camera. One eye is perfectly made up, smoky dark eyeshadow contouring an arched, pencilled-in brow. 

“This one?” You pull the dress off its hanger and hold it up for the camera to see. 

It was an impulse buy. On sale. The fabric felt soft and stretchy, and even though you could see your panties in the changing booth mirror when you bent down you loved the look of it too much to leave it. 

You'd just started dating Dave. You remember you were still feeling giddy and excited with that nervous kind of confidence that made you blush and smile and think maybe I'll wear it for him one time. 

It's been gathering dust in the back of your closet ever since. 

“Yesss,” Liv says. “That's what I'm talking about.” 

When she goes back to her make-up table you hold the dress up in front of the mirror. 

It doesn't feel like you. 

It feels like the person you once really wished you were, and even that wishful optimism is no longer part of your repertoire. 

You turn around. “Hey, do you think—” 

Your phone buzzes, covering Liv's face with a popup that says in big white letters incoming call! 

You grab it quickly, throwing your dress on the bed. “Hang on, someone's calling—” 

With one swipe Liv disappears, and you hold the phone to hold to your ear. Unknown number.  

“Hello?” 

“Simon.” 

“Nice to finally meet you,” you smile, and shake the massive hand held out to you. Simon runs warm; his grip is firm and brief. “I, um. I heard about your mother passing. From Beth. I'm so sorry.” 

He averts his eyes for a moment. They're a lovely warm shade of brown, starkly contrasted against his pale skin and blond lashes. Up close you see shadows of nicks and scars. Souvenirs from his work. 

“Thanks.” 

He hardly says another word all evening. At times it feels more like he's watching over rather than participating in your little party of friends gathered at Tommy and Beth's apartment; a hulking shadow brooding in the corner, shying away from the inner circle of light and laughter. 

It'd be easy to forget he was there, but you don't. 

You're a little fascinated by him. If Beth is like your sister, what does that make him? Family by-proxy-by-proxy. You've heard enough about him to decide he's got a good heart underneath his withdrawn demeanour, and it makes you eager to forgive what others might see as rudeness. 

You sneak looks all throughout the get-together, in between board games and salty snacks and bad jokes. Try to map his heavy brow, his serious gaze, the scar running over his chin that mirrors the one Tommy has on the back of his neck. 

After the first few times you chalk it up to coincidence. But when you look again, again—those brown eyes meet yours. It confirms: 

Simon's been looking at you, too. 

“I don't understand,” you say. 

You're not convinced this isn't a prank call. No, worse—a scam. Even when “John” reads out Joseph's place, date, and time of birth—even when he could tell you Beth's middle name or Tommy's last place of work. 

There's just no way. 

“Just... after eight years? Isn't that a crazy long time...?” 

A begrudging pause. “I can't tell you everything, sweetheart. Confidential. You understand.” 

You try to. Simon left you something, John said. Wouldn't say what. Couldn't say how. But it's for you, if you want it, just making sure— 

Of course you want it, you tell him. You have a P.O. box, he can send it anytime— 

“It was requested you receive it in person,” John says. “On base.” Paper is shuffled and shifted in the background. Faintly you hear a door open and close. “There's one not too far from your address.” 

“John” gives you the directions, and a quick google shows that he's not lying; there really is a base close by, and it fits John's description. 

“Okay. Um... Do I need to bring anything?” 

“Your ID should do.” John clears his throat. “I'll have one of mine handle it. Mention my name—John, Captain Price, whatever you like—and they'll sort you out.” 

“Alright. Thank you...” 

You end the call feeling dazed. Tonight was supposed to be for letting go of everything, for living in the now, in the moment—and suddenly the past comes knocking at your door. 

The anxiety returns like a wave crashing on your shore. 

You should be over this by now. It's been so many years. You've cycled through all of grief's vicious stages, and the sadness and loss has dulled to the point you don't think of it anymore every day. And even then—it was Beth who was your best friend, Beth who you cried for the hardest. Not Simon. Simon was— 

(family by-proxy-by-proxy) 

—special. 

But him leaving you something behind shouldn't be enough to derail the peace you've clawed out for yourself. 

Right? 

You tell Liv it was a family thing when she asks, but she's concerned, says you look pale; “Are you sure you're up for going, babe?” 

You open your mouth to say yes. 

Before you can, though, a notification pops up. It's Dave. You told him you were going out earlier today and received no response—more and more often these days, you remember thinking—and shrugged. Put it out of your mind. 

You open the text. 

Oh I was thinking we do chinese tonight and a movie marathon 

You bite your lip, hard. Text back, Sorry, maybe some other time? 

He's not usually one to respond so quickly, but the three dots pop up before you're even done typing. 

We can go out together sometime 

Just call and cancel 

I'll get your fav <3 

—you crumble. 

It's pathetic, but right now all you want is someone's arms to bury yourself into and to cry on a familiar shoulder. To not be alone in a crowd of strangers with girls that you don't know very well. 

You take a shuddering breath and try for your best apologetic smile. “Liv? Sorry. Um—I think the family call thing got me a little harder than I thought.”  

How do you explain what Simon was to you? What Beth and her family were to you? 

“I'm really sorry for flaking on you suddenly, but is it okay if I go with you next time?” 

“Of course, babe,” Liv rushes to assure you. “Take it easy, okay? You really don't look so good. We can go out dancing anytime—I'll add you to the groupchat.” 

“Thanks. Have fun,” you tell her, and she says she will before the screen goes dark. 

With trembling hands, you press the call button. 

“Um, sorry. Am I in the way?” 

“Not at all.” The guy before you flashes you an easy smile. “Want one too?” 

You nod yes, and watch him pour you your drink. He has nice hands; slender, nails neatly trimmed, a plain watch around his wrist. 

“I'm Dave,” he says as he hands you your drink. You accept with a smile and offer your own name, and go through the usual so what do you do for work, who do you know here, did you come with a friend, what food did you bring to the potluck? 

“Er,” he says a little sheepishly, “just drinks, I'm afraid. I can't cook to save my life.” 

“It's not so hard once you get started. They've got these food delivery boxes now, where you just get everything you need for a meal.” 

“Ah, I want to, but. You know.” Dave gestures with his hand. “Work keeps me so busy when I get home all I want to do is pass out.” 

You give him a sympathetic smile. You know that feeling too, all too well. “So that's why you're here, huh?” you joke. “To eat your fill and then leave before the cleanup?” 

Dave winks. “Oops. Saw right through me.” 

In the end Dave does stay for cleanup, though you suspect he only does so because he wants to talk to you after and ask for your number. 

You're a little surprised at yourself for giving it. 

It doesn't have to mean anything, you tell yourself later on the way home. It can just be practice. Getting back into the dating scene after disappearing from it for a few years. 

Worst case you try a one-liner on him and he ghosts you. 

Part of you hopes he doesn't, though. You enjoyed talking to Dave. He seemed nice. Normal. 

Uncomplicated. 

Beth would want that for you, too, you decide when you close the door behind you. A nice normal bloke you can live a nice normal life with. You can't hide yourself away forever; the excuse of work keeping you too busy to socialise is wearing thin.  

Who knows? You smile to yourself as you drift off. 

Maybe this could be the start of something really good. 

Dave leaves early in the morning when you're still half-asleep in bed. You don't remember getting there last night; he must've carried you over after you fell asleep on the sofa. 

You wrinkle your nose at the empty plastic containers littering the low table in the living room. It's messier than you remember it; Dave even forgot his jacket, still thrown over the back of the sofa. You pick it up and dust it off— 

...? 

You frown and lean in, sniffing the jacket. 

Traces of something sweet and fruity still cling to the fabric. 

You stand there, in the still morning light spilling through the windows, holding the jacket and staring at it. You're overreacting. You're reading into it. You're so sensitive. Jumping to conclusions. 

Dave doesn't usually wear scent, does he? 

crazy bitch, possessive cunt, stupid whore— 

...But maybe he's started to. You'll... you'll ask him about it. That should be okay, right? You'll ask him, and then he'll say oh, yeah, just trying out this new thing. 

And the world will be right again. 

Tears prick at your eyes and you blink them away, carefully hanging Dave's jacket onto the hanger in the hallway. You avert your eyes as soon as possible. 

You don't want to think about it. 

If you do, you'll just make yourself go crazy. Talk yourself into doing something stupid, like calling him and then blubbering accusations at him like a lunatic. 

You breathe out. No. This is your free day, and you're not going to spend in moping inside. You scoop up Mim, who's come out of his hiding place, and kiss his little head while he purrs in your arms. 

You're going to feed your cats, feed yourself, and then... 

Then you'll go to that military base. Get it over with. It'll get you out of the house, out of your head, make you think about something else than Dave wearing a woman's scent. 

Even if that something else is the dead brother-in-law of your equally dead best friend. 

[blondejellykitty]

₊♡ ˚⊹ it's all too familiar ₊♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ percy jackson x unclaimed reader ୨୧ after meeting a talking centaur, life couldn't get much stranger. a/n: (1.2k words) sorry this took so long! x this is part two - series masterlist -

It took you a while to adjust to Camp Half Blood. The greek styled cabins, the unruly forests that surrounded the place, the sword wielding campers. It was very different from New York.

Percy had brought you to where Chiron, a wise centaur, stood waiting for you both. A grumpy looking man in a horrendous Hawaiian shirt sat at a small table reading a strange magazine written in an unfamiliar language.

It was then that you were told of the rules and whatnots of the Camp.

Unfortunately Chiron took it quite personally when you called the place a cult. The other man snorted from behind his magazine.

"That's Mr D, don't worry about him. He's always grumpy after the solstice." Percy leaned over to whisper an introduction.

You barely heard the rest of his explanation. Another whirl of visions raced through your mind. Sights of a tall handsome man, nothing like the one that sat in front of you. The memories of curses inflicted on those he despised and blessings on those he deemed worthy. The scent of wine, sweet grapes, salt and copper pinched your nose. The looks of the mad, the crazy. Their eyes blended together into one purple set. Dionysus. God of wine and insanity.

The after effects dimmed better than the previous time. A small thudding headache and a wave of dizziness affecting you. You brushed it off and let Percy continue showing you around.

You were placed in the Hermes cabin. Glimpses of a fluffy haired brunette man wearing a winged helmet. In other flashes he wore winged sandals. You saw entire lineages cursed by his hand, thieves being guided by his hand. You were overwhelmed with the amount of fast paced movement that flooded around him. Hermes. God of travelers, messenger of the gods.

As you entered,you placed the little belongings that you had left, ones you didn't particularly care if they got stolen, on the spare bed in the far left corner of the room.

The entirety of Cabin Eleven seemed to be uncomfortable about your presence there. When you'd enter the cabin or sit with them at meal times, their eyes would watch you as if they were waiting for you to do something. What it was they were waiting for, you didn't know.

You asked Percy what their problem was a week into your stay. He had said not to take it personally, they just had bad memories about having an unclaimed person staying with them. He briefly mentioned something to do with a war against Kronos.

Flashes of a blonde dark eyed man. He wore imposing armor and stood tall. Glimpses of brutal, grotesque murders, lies and schemes for revenge filled your head. You saw each of his children, one by one 'disappearing' by his hand. A burning madness and painful grief echoes harshly in your mind causing you to fall to the ground. Kronos, Titan of Time, King of the Titans.

Percy had forced you to the infirmary even after you insisted you were fine. He sat you down on an empty cot. He introduced you to their best healer. Will Solace, Son of Apollo.

Flickers of a curly haired blonde blue eyed man. You saw warm teachings of instruments. Beautiful melodies rang through in your ears. You saw plagues sweeping entire cities and guided arrows under his guidance. Flashes of oracles and prophets blessed by him. A blinding light overcame you, the sun itself you realized. Apollo, god of prophecy, archery and the sun. (among many other things, your brain reminded you)

You felt your nose trickle blood down your chin. You felt overwhelmed and your brain felt fuzzy.

"Yeah, you'll have to stay overnight. At least." Will had said as he looked closer at you. You still remember the concern that filled his eyes.

You'd stayed in the infirmary for a full week before you were returned to Cabin Eleven. However when it came to your Camp activities and meeting more people. You'd had your weird 'sights' of Iris, Athena, Ares and Nike while trying to socialize with your new peers. Which all in one day was too much for you.

So you wound up back inside the familiar infirmary. After a few more days there, you knew you should have told someone about what you were seeing. After the 'party centaurs' had visited for the day you were sure your visions weren't the strangest thing in the world. But every time you went to tell Percy, or Will, a deep feeling of dread would fill your chest and your throat would tighten. You just... couldn't do it.

Percy had been traveling to Olympus the longer you stayed unclaimed. He'd been getting more and more frustrated at the gods not keeping their promise but many of them assured him that you truly weren't their child... Which didn't make you feel much better.

After a few months had gone by you decided to move out of Cabin Eleven and permanently stay in the infirmary. As terrible as it sounds it really wasn't that bad. You were friends with Will and not that many campers actually spent long there, they usually just got the Nectar or Ambrosia that they needed and were off on their way.

You'd had visions of almost every Greek god you could name. However they seemed to continue, no longer were they brief introductions, now they were smaller memories of the spoken gods. You'd see faces of their children, their lovers' deaths. The people they'd cursed, the ones they'd bless. You'd seen their arguments with each other. Their sharing of secrets. You've seen them on Olympus, in the Underworld, in Atlantis, in the Mortal World. It left you bedridden when you saw particularly important memories of theirs. Which was the main reason Chiron allowed you to stay in the infirmary.

Percy had been so sweet and kind the entire time. He'd visit you for hours every day. He'd tell you about the activities you missed, the plans for capture the flag games. He made sure you shared your meals with him at his table. And when you weren't lying in bed you were in his cabin with him. You'd read the books he could never finish out loud together. He'd bring you his mothers famous blue cookies to share with him.

And on his birthday he'd spent the day with you. You'd given him his gift, wrapped in fishes and sea creatures with a blue ribbon. Inside was a number of different hand crafted jewelry you'd made for him when you laid bored in bed.

You remember apologizing to him, saying that you wished you could've gotten him more. You'd felt guilty you couldn't go out to the mall to buy him proper jewelry or even just a fancier gift. But you remember the way he softly told you to shut up and the way he'd hugged you as if you'd disappear.

After that day he'd taken you down to the bottom of the lake. You were scared at first but you trusted Percy with everything. It soon became a weekly event. The two of you sitting at the bottom of the lake watching the fishes swim closely to Percy, sometimes letting you touch them. It was calm under the sea, or at least it was with Percy by your side.

It wasn't until the next solstice where you were specifically asked to attend that you realized how you never wanted to leave Percy's side. It was also at that solstice that you realized that you didn't have that option anymore no matter how much you wanted it.

[svgarseason]

𖹭 cw angst, fluff, briefly explicit, toxic behavior

Stalker choso didn't mean to follow you home. Not the first time, or even the second time... or any of the times after that. You just looked so small and helpless and it was nearing dark and you were all alone. Anything might have happened to you.

So he follows you, watching the evening breeze run it's icy fingers through your hair. It carries the sweet caramel and coffee bean scent of you into his nose. It makes him feel strange. Makes him imagine the way your hair might feel, brushing against his shoulders and chest.

You make it easy for him to follow you. With your headphones on, you're more or less oblivious to your surroundings. He shakes his head. He could do anything to you. You wouldn't even know what hit you. Anyone could grab you and do god knows what. That's why he had to memorize your schedule and your route. So he could always be there, just in case you needed him.

He stops across the street as he always does and watches you until you shut the front door behind you. He stands just outside the amber halo of the streetlight and remembers the first time he saw you. Like silver to a crow, he wanted you without understanding why. You were a beautiful treasure, full of light and he wanted you. Wants you. That's all there is too it.

He is still standing there when light spills out onto the front lawn through the gauzy pink curtains in your bedroom window. He was about to turn away but feels rooted to the spot when you step into the light. He knows he should look away when you begin to undress, framed in the window like the work of art that you are. But he can't. He feels like he is on fire. He stands in the dark and burns.

He knows it's wrong, but he can't stop thinking about it, especially once he is home, alone, fucking his fist to the thought of you, again. Let's be honest, it isn't the first time he's thought of you that way. Not even close. Afterwards, he feels guilty. He can't help but think that he has become the very thing he intended to protect you from: the loathsome creature in the dark. That isn't how he wants things to be.

That's why he waits around the corner of the cafe, listening for your footsteps. He doesn't mean to scare you, but he can tell he has by the way you freeze up, bottom lip trembling. The sight strikes him dumb for a moment. When he finds his voice again, he says he's sorry, as he picks up your fumbled phone from the sidewalk and hands it to you.

"You shouldn't walk alone at night," he says. "Let me walk you home."

Maybe it isn't very smart, but there's something sweet in his sad, dark eyes that has you saying yes before you can second guess it. There is an otherworldly quality to him that charms you right away, so much so that it doesn't occur to you to wonder how he knew you were going home. You even squeeze his hand before he goes and say you'll hope you'll see him tomorrow and tell him you get off at the same time. He only nods and turns away, so you can't see the way he's struggling to breathe.

[yerimbrit]

overture : k. haerin

synopsis: even in doubt, you'll always have haerin.

# : pairing ! nonidol!kang haerin x fem!reader

# : tags ! classical music!au, haerin is a pianist, reader is a violinist, fluff, childhood friends to potentially something more, i might actually make this into a series but who knows, this could also technically be read as a 5+1 style fic but idk, domesticity

# : wordcount ! 1.6k

# : warnings ! none

"let's play."

those were the very first words that you've spoken to kang haerin, ever.

the girl had just moved into your neighborhood, to the house next door, and her mom had brought her over to your door for introductions. she was shy, even six year old you could tell, the way she hid behind her mom. once she peeked out in curiosity, that's when you uttered those two words.

her mouth hung agape, and hesitantly, she nodded. while your moms were chatting away, you decided to continue the conversation.

"i'm y/n, what's your name?" you held your hand out, smiling and proudly showing off the top row that was missing a tooth.

she didn't take your hand—only stared at it—but she quietly mumbled a, "haerin," before pointing at your mouth. "what happened to your tooth?"

you held your mouth open, pointing at it with your own finger, "this?" she nodded. "oh, i tripped and it fell out!"

it took more than a few moments for haerin to process your words, but after it clicked, tears started welling up in her eyes. panicked, you look up to your mom for help, but she was too busy getting to know haerin's mom to notice. suddenly, a lightbulb lit up above your head, and your eyes sparkled.

the girl would soon feel an enveloping warmth around her, a hug, and her eyes widened.

"there, there, don't cry! my dad always hugs me when i cry, so maybe this'll help... wait!" you pulled away, another panicked look overtaking your childish features, "sorry! mom says i shouldn't touch others without asking first!"

once again, haerin took a few moments to process what had just happened, and you really thought you were done for, because this was taking longer than the last time.

that was until a noise made its way out of her lips. then another, and then she was giggling, and laughing, and the cat-eyed girl was now smiling, and you just knew that you had to cherish this bond and keep it safe for the rest of your life.

a few months passed and you started school together, managing to get placed in the same homeroom class. you were stuck by the hip, glued together—no one could tear you apart. even when you were out socializing, you always made sure to introduce your friends to haerin, although she would stay quiet for most of the conversations.

it was during the talent show the following year when both you and haerin found a shared dream. an older kid, maybe three or so years above, was playing a solo of a riedling piece, but what stood out the most to you was the addition of another older kid on the piano.

you wanted to play the violin with haerin at your side. and it was a good thing you knew that she felt the same way, you could see it in the way her eyes glimmered while watching the performance, because you would've begged and begged for her to take piano lessons so you could play together.

and so upon returning home, you tugged on your mother's sleeve with pleading eyes and asked for a violin.

"let's play."

you approached haerin, who was sitting at the upright piano that her father had enthusiastically bought a few months prior, when his daughter timidly asked for something out loud for the first time. she had never asked with her words, but she asked with her eyes, and her father had never been so relieved that his daughter was able to voice her wants.

it had only been four months since you and haerin started learning how to play, and you were impatient. you wanted to play with haerin.

"okay."

of course, the first few tries were a sad jumble of notes, creating dissonance and harmonies out of sync. this wouldn't discourage you. you were determined to play.

and after an hour of nonstop playing and readjusting, you and haerin's heart and soul emerged in an almost perfect ring.

you turned around to face the cat-eyed girl, a big grin on your face as you lowered your quarter size violin by the neck. she turned to you, a small smile also stretched across her lips, and while her expression was mild compared to yours, her eyes told you everything.

let's play again.

"let's play," you huffed, your voice less childish than it was six years ago, when you were seven and too innocent. "we have to get it right!"

"i-" haerin started, but paused. she was never one to say no to you—a blessing and a curse, at least for her. "okay."

you resumed playing, only to slide your pinky too far down and play a screeching high note, piercing your left ear and haerin's right one. she rested her hands on her thighs, taking a deep breath and glancing over to you. "y/n, i really think that-"

"again!" you raised your voice, and haerin slightly flinched. you weren't one to raise your voice. in this realization, you widened your eyes, gently set your violin back down in its case, and sat down next to your best friend. "i'm sorry. i've been so stressed lately."

she didn't say anything, only reaching over to push your head down. it wasn't harsh, but only just—and your head would be resting on her shoulder where it belonged.

"i'm sorry, 'rinnie," you mumbled.

she shook her head. "it's okay. let's take a break."

"mhm."

"let's play," you mouthed to haerin, both of you adorning stylish and elegant black concert dresses. now sixteen, years of experience tacked onto your belts, it was the final round of the national violin competition that you'd worked tirelessly to reach.

rachimaninoff's morceaux de salon, op 6. 2: danse hongroise.

nine years of hard work led you to this moment, where you would play and haerin would be your accompaniment. you believed in you and haerin's capabilities, for you had long surpassed the upperclassmen's level that had once inspired your dreams.

the notes you played, the ones you breathed life into, danced around the stage, entwining with the ones haerin set free before running off towards the audience for a chance to show the people your bond.

and yes, they danced, and danced, and danced. just like how you and haerin did when you were younger, when the tv was on and a i got a boy stage was playing. like how you and haerin did when it was pouring rain and haerin pretended she didn't have a collapsible umbrella in her bag because you loved to dance in the rain.

it was beautiful, both the harmony and the melody, and your relationship with haerin. you knew that you loved haerin. there was nothing you were more sure of. not even the mistakes that stuck out to everyone but you, and not even the fact that you loved the rain. and you knew that haerin loved you too. there was no need for words when it came to her.

sweat trailed down your brow as you switched between bowing and pizzicato, and with a glance to your left you saw haerin's brows furrowing in concentration, keeping up with your rapid notes. there was something in the way she played, there always was; she played the piano like she was a magician. there was something so alluring about her movements that you got surprised when she pulled something out of her sleeve. her hands were fluid, like they were one with the black and white keys, and once you got a taste of her magic? there was no going back.

in your own movements, there was emotion. joy, sorrow, anything that you could pull out of the piece. it was as if you entered the mindscape of the centuries old composers, and brought their feelings out in warm strokes of your bow. it immersed the audience, like you were bringing your hand out in an introduction and waiting for them to take it.

these two styles contrasted and complemented each other, and that was what made your performance so good.

the final notes of the piece rang out, and the crowd became silent. the only thing you could hear was the sound of you and your partner's heavy breaths on the stage and the final reverberations of your instruments.

the audience stood, and a deafening ovation was awarded for your combined efforts.

you smiled. you didn't have to turn around to know that haerin was smiling too.

"we're so little in this picture," you giggle, setting the framed photo near the windowsill that sheds light on the grand piano that haerin will play.

the girl hums, bringing a box full of old trinkets and memories to place near the couch. the apartment you now share is more than enough space for you and your partner to reside in. "you looked cuter with that missing tooth."

"oh yeah?" you feign an eye twitch, "why don't i give you one to match?"

"aw, you want to match with me?" she teases, eyes crinkling up in mischief. you playfully raise a fist and then lower it.

bending down to open the box she had just placed, you reach your hand inside and feel your fingertips brushing against a few pieces of paper stapled together, two sets of them. grabbing the sets, you read over the titles and your eyes light up along with your smile. "'rin, look! heart and soul."

haerin walks over, plucks her own set from your hands, and sets it onto the desk above the covered keyboard. she lifts the cover, motions to your encased violin. "y/n," she calls out, softly, warmly.

your smile widens, and you take the violin out of its case, naturally starting to tune it. once you're done, you walk to haerin's right side, and position the bottom edge of the instrument under the left side of your chin and onto your shoulder.

haerin says it before you can. you beam.

"let's play."

a/n : here is the haerin fic as promised, hope you enjoyed! i personally really like this one so i hope you guys feel the same :-)

[saeist]

"... think you can help me now?"

"how many times do i have to tell you? no"

you grumbled, trying to walk away from nagumo who has been following you all morning. today was valentines day and in jcc, it was just an ordinary day with the exception of handing out chocolate to your crushes— something you'll never do nor receive

nagumo huffs, picking up his pace to catch up with you. when he gets in your way, he holds his hands up in defense when you raise your arm, ready to hit him

"wait! before you hit me.. hear me out first!" he pleads

you give him a look that basically screams 'it better be fuckin' worth it'

nagumo reads your face for a reaction and when the coast was clear, he takes a deep breath before he starts explaining why he needed you to help him

"you're the only one i know who can successfully scare the girls away.. so why not ask you to fake date me just for today!" nagumo chirps, a stupid smile on his face as he babbles on about his current dilemma about receiving 152 chocolates from different girls from different departments

you can feel a vein pop on your forehead as you actually stood there and thought that nagumo may have a serious problem that he needed your help specifically

"who even told you i'd help you? rion? i doubt she did" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. there was actually no way in hell that rion told nagumo that you'd help him out of all people for some petty problem of his

"she did actually" nagumo laughs, fishing his phone out of his pocket to show you his messages with rion

[10:21 AM] akao: yeah y/n can totally help you with that [10:23 AM] nagumo: you think so? :00 [10:27 AM] akao: totally. she just told me rn.

you are so going to kill rion

on the corner of nagumo's eye, he spots another wave of girls looking around, probably looking for him

tired from being asked out multiple times today, nagumo may or may not have mentioned to all the girls who have come up to him today that he was seeing someone

some took it lightly and dropped the subject but some were still persistent. even accusing nagumo of lying because they've been watching him all day and they haven't seen him remotely close with his "significant other"

that's where you come in

the same girl who was persistent on asking nagumo out, pops out of no where and walks up to you and nagumo

"is this your girlfriend you were talking about?" the girl raises an eyebrow, looking between you and nagumo. nagumo, who kept his cool despite the girl's abrupt appearance and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you plush against him

"yep" nagumo says, popping the 'p', "this is my girlfriend i told you about"

your eye twitches at the introduction. you haven't even given him your approval of such act. one second he was asking for permission, the next he was already claiming you as his own

what the fuck, nagumo?

the girl notices your demeanour, totally not buying nagumo's bullshit lie one bit

"oh really now? then kiss her if she really is your girlfriend because it's looking like she doesn't like you touching her" the girl says smug, crossing her arms as she basically challenges the nagumo yoichi

without a second thought, nagumo cups your face and smashes your lips together

your eyes widened as you try to process everything, all at once

nagumo gives it like 5 seconds of kissing you deeply that it honestly got you weak in the knees at the absurdity of it. when he pulls away, the girl had already left. leaving you and him alone in the jcc hallway

"oh wow that was easy–"

you cut nagumo off by shoving him against the lockers, your hands on his neck. nagumo whistles lowly and holds his hands out in surrender

"woah. sorry 'bout that. had to take care of that little pesky thing" he reasons, lips curling to a eat shitting green seeing your face was all red

"nagumo, i'm going to fucking kill you" you grit your teeth

nagumo suddenly pulls something out of his back pocket. it was a chocolate bar. he holds it out in front of you like it's some kind of peace offering

"chocolate?"

"NAGUMO!"

"happy valentines day, fake girlfriend"

[1:40 PM] akao: told you she'd help you lol

[1:43 PM] rion <3: tell nagumo one chocolate bar isn't enough for the two of us! [1:44 PM] you: i'm going to kill you. [1:45 PM] rion <3: awwe. happy vday too, bb.

[cherrriesinthespring]

72 with dom!spencer pls 😫

again, tried to be inclusive!!

warnings: spanking, punishment, talk of later punishment and a belt but not shown, teasing, marks left on the reader. use of daddy!!

-----------------

a dinner party at rossi's mansion, the third one you'd been to since getting with spencer. you knew his coworkers pretty well, not only based on his perfect descriptions of each, but also you're friends with a few.

earlier that night, spencer had teased you relentlessly as you got ready. it started when you were in the mirror, styling your hair. he came up behind you, whispering in the low tone he knows you love "can't wait to pull on this later.."

you weren't used to him having such an interest in dirty talk, he was never one for it unless you were the one guiding him through something you begged for. one thing is though, he loves seeing you flustered.

slipping on your outfit, he came over again, as you perfected the last touches. "I've watched you put this on so I can figure out how long it'll take to get it off" that rendered you speechless.

you begged him to touch you, he refused. your asks got more and more simple, a kiss on the lips, on the cheek, a hug?! none of it. so you decided to make it impossible for him not to touch you, no matter what kind of touch it was.

the party began, you didn't drink all that much, neither did spencer. one glass of champagne loosened you up enough to put your plan into action. sauntering over to derek, you asked him to dance, why would he deny you?

spencer eyed both of you from across the garden, his hands dangerously close to your hips. the touch wasn't particularly intimate, but enough to set spencer off. derek seemed to notice the way spencer watched closely, fidgeting, his hands gripping his glass so hard it could've broke.

he doesn't say anything though he ignores it when spencer comes up behind you, murmuring something about "need to talk to you" biting back a smirk, you let go of derek and follow spencer inside, his steps are calculated, eager, he knows what he wants and he's going to get it.

once you two are tucked in a guest room, far off from any of the main lounge rooms (just to be safe) he scoffs at the innocent batting of lashes.

"what do you think you're doing, Y/N?" hes agitated, pulling his tie off as he speaks, reaching for his top button. your head tilts, acting all sweet and normal once again, voice light and airy.

"what do you mean?" that spurs him on further. he comes close, lips connecting with yours, his hand wrapping around your neck, practically dwarfing it.

"strip off your bottom half. lay down, ass up. now." as soon as he's finished you begin stripping off like he said, you know he won't ask again. you're also finally relieved you're getting touched.

you strip, he pushes you down over the mattress, your fave buries into the white fabric, it almost reminds you of a hotel bed. the sheets smell better than a hotel bed though, and you know it's rossi's place. it's probably cleaner than a-

'SLAP' and a moan erupts from you. you choke on the breath you attempt to take in and he smirks. another one, he can see the curve of your ass changing colours, the marks visible.

"please- FUCK, fuck- I'm sorry.. I'll be good, daddy i swear!" you're loud, but it's no worry, the party is out back. another loud slap echoes through the room and you hear it before you feel it. you're practically soaked, trying to rut your hips against the bed to feel something, it doesn't work.

"I'm going easy on you, you should be getting the belt right now " his hands play with the plush fat of your ass, squeezing and grabbing at what he can. another two slaps across marked skin and he pulls you up by the hair, smirking at the mess between your thighs.

"we're going back out there, keep your hands to yourself, and no more champagne. we need you to be sober for when we get home, eat too, you'll need the energy" you know he means it.

he's gentle as he slips your outfit back on, and can't help roughly shoving you against the wall to make out with you a little before intertwining your hands. you walk out with a smile on your face, as promised, you fill your plate and opt for soft drinks.

[kalinara]

So I saw a post earlier talking about Marvel couples and how relatively few long term relationships there are. There was mention of Reed and Sue as being basically the most consistently together couple, crediting that to the nature of the Fantastic Four being about family.

I don't disagree with that.

But then there was a comment about Scott and Jean being "all over the place" and depending on editorial at the time. Sorry for the paraphrase, but I couldn't find the post again to be sure.

And honestly I couldn't disagree with that more.

The thing about Scott Summers and Jean Grey is that, with two exceptions, if they are both alive, and they both know the other one is alive, they are together FULL STOP.

The first exception to this is the original Lee/Kirby years. Because they hadn't gotten together yet. But anyone who has sat through the god knows how many issues it took for the two to actually get the fuck over it and fuck basically gets stockholmed into shipping these idiots.

Because when you go from seeing this nonsense in issue 10:

THIS nonsense in issue 24:

THIS nonsense in issue 3-fucking-4:

And you realize this is only a sampling and that pretty much every issue in between has more of this idiotic bullshit, you'll be screaming at them to "JUST FUCK ALREADY!!!" too.

NGL, it's what turned me into a shipper. Fucking Stockholm Syndrome.

The other time, of course, is X-Factor. Because Scott, in his incredible wisdom and self-perception, happened to marry a woman who looked exactly like Jean Grey, (and asked her if she was Jean Grey on the eve of the wedding).

Scott gets a lot of shit from fans for ditching his wife and son for Jean Grey (which is a vast oversimplification of a very complicated storyline, but fine, for once, let's go with it). So yeah.

A good chunk of X-Factor is basically just these two finding their way back to each other after dealing with a whole mess of other mind-bogglingly traumatizing events and trying to raise a baby while meeting alternate future kids and (in Jean's case) not really handling that well.

But anyway, after that? They're together.

Now, admittedly, the Grant Morrison era of X-Men is a bit complicated. We all know about Emma Frost. I still resent deeply the fact that a man is named cheater for getting taken advantage of by his therapist, but fine. Maybe they'd have broken up over Emma, maybe not. Maybe Jean would finally break down and fuck Logan, maybe not. Sadly she died instead. And then a future version of her decided to push Scott and Emma together for a while. Which was a fucking weird narrative choice, but fine.

When Jean comes back? Immediate romantic scene with her resurrected husband by the way. And yeah, fine, he drops dead again later. And then when HE comes back to life, she's off in another dimension and presumed dead for a bit.

But when they are back, alive, and in the same place? She immediately shoves her tongue down his throat.

On Krakoa, they're the most married they've ever been. They finally get to raise their son together, in a place that isn't a future hellhole. They are explicitly polyamorous, implicitly in a throuple, but when it comes down to the wire, it's Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

And now, in From the Ashes, she's off being a goddess in space. But she's still having psychic phone sex with her patiently waiting husband. It's not clear if they're still doing the polyamory thing, I'd like to think they are because we so rarely get to see portrayals of non-monogamous but still very happy couples. But who knows. What we do know is that even now, even when they're not in the same place: it's Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

I suppose the one exception is young Scott and young Jean when they're brought to the future. But here's the thing. As much as they both try to fight it, as often as they've tried to tease some other kind of ship with Hank or Laura or Jimmy Hudson, or teenaged Vampire Storm, or anyone else. The two still can't ever really escape each other's orbit. (And you know, maybe if they actually got the full story instead of fucked up fragments from incredibly biased people who currently hate at least one of them, they might have felt a little less like escaping. Who knows?)

I guess I can see the argument that the state of their relationship can vary. Sometimes they're very happy, sometimes they're raising a kid. Sometimes they're frayed. Sometimes they fight. Sometimes they fuck other people.

But in the end, as long as they're both alive, it's Scott Summers and Jean Grey.

Reed and Sue still get top billing as the big couple of 616, sure. They're not immune to silly love triangles, but they tend to be dead less often.

But I still think Scott and Jean are up there, as consistent and steady as anything in the Marvel Universe.

[sonadowcentral]

I just wanted you to know I have not read a single fanfic in...(checks math)...over a decade and you've brought me back into them.

Anyway, was curious if you had a planned schedule for uploads for your chapters.

Hello anon :D

So glad ur reading fanfic again! I can't say I have a clear schedule due to how taxing school is and my parents tend to throw random events on the calendar without telling me so its hard to keep things consistent. My usual personal deadlines are Sundays but that also depends on how much homework I have to finish each week.

SO sorry for the wait you'll have to deal with for this fic but I try not to wait too long to post :)

[duachai]

HANA, DUL, SET : 108 - PARK SUNGHOON

my hands on you.

Girl(Boy), you should taste the water from your well 

♱ PAIRING : PARK SUNGHOON X MALE READER ♱ CONTENT WARNING : This chapter contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. Stop and start after the 🤍 if you want to skip. ♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE : I know my choice of making Sunghoon a bottom is uncommon lol, but I had to, sorry not sorry. I'd like to think that they don't necessarily care who is inside who, but also I purposely made Sunghoon infatuated with M/n, so why would he not want that satisfaction? I just like the idea of seeing tall, little muscular Sunghoon completely faltering over his boy lol. But ladies and gentlemen... we are 2 chapters out from the end... how do you feel?

LINKS : Wattpad | Book Link | Masterlist

The courtroom was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the wooden chairs and the occasional shuffle of papers. M/n sat at the long, polished table at the front of the room, his mother seated beside him. Her hands were clasped tightly around his in his lap as she muttered soft prayers, offering strength as they waited for the proceedings to begin.

Behind them, the entire Enha team sat in solidarity. Their faces were a mix of quiet determination and subtle nervousness, with Sunghoon sitting at the edge of his seat, his hands clasped on top of his bounce knee in anticipation.

Coach Park, standing beside M/n, was the picture of calm professionalism. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat as the lead official, an older man with a weathered face and piercing eyes, called the session to order.

"We are here to review the appeal of Shin M/n for eligibility to compete in this season's volleyball league," the official announced. "Coach Park, you may present your case."

Coach Park stepped forward; his voice steady as he began. "Ladies and gentlemen, Shin M/n has demonstrated not only exceptional athletic ability but also a genuine commitment to improving himself as a player and a teammate. The events involving Fifty-Forty are regrettable, but they were instigated by individuals who targeted him unjustly. M/n has shown resilience and maturity since joining our team, and I firmly believe he deserves a second chance."

As Coach Park spoke, M/n kept his head down, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of the itchy girly sweater his mother had brought to him.

The official nodded, glancing at the papers in front of him. "While we acknowledge his recent efforts, there is still the matter of his history. Multiple altercations, both on and off the court; these incidents cannot be ignored. The league holds its players to a high standard of conduct."

M/n's heart sank as the official's words cut through him like a blade. "May I speak?" M/n asked quietly, his voice barely audible.

The official gestured for him to proceed.

Taking a deep breath, M/n stood. "I know I've made mistakes, and I take full responsibility for them. But I've worked so hard to move past those mistakes. Volleyball is everything to me and it's the one thing that's kept me going, even when things got tough. All I'm asking for is a chance to prove that I can do it, and I can do it right."

The room fell silent. M/n sat down, his mother giving his hand another squeeze.

The officials exchanged whispers; their expressions unreadable. Finally, the lead official spoke again. "After careful consideration, we have decided to deny this appeal. Shin M/n will not be eligible to compete this season. This decision is final, but we think it's too soon to be completely sure there will not be a repeat offense. As for the team, we will appoint a few substitutions in the meantime."

Of M/n's stomach dropped. The words echoed in his ears as the team behind him let out audible gasps of disbelief. His mother pulled him into a hug, whispering softly, "You're strong, M/n. You'll get through this."

The team exited the courtroom with him, their voices low as they tried to console him.

"That's bullshit," Heeseung muttered, frustration lacing his tone.

Jay nodded in agreement. "This really all Fifty-Forty's fault."

Sunghoon was the last to leave, walking beside M/n in silence. Once they were outside, Sunghoon stopped and gently grabbed M/n's wrist, his eyes filled with a mix of condolence and a little bit of anger.

"Come with me for a sec'," Sunghoon said softly.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the quiet streets as M/n and Sunghoon walked side by side. The others had gone ahead to the restaurant Coach Park had planned for dinner, giving the two some much-needed space.

M/n shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his head hanging low. "I fucked up," he muttered.

"You didn't," Sunghoon said firmly, glancing over at him. "They just don't know what they're missing. It's their loss, not yours."

M/n huffed a bitter laugh. "Yeah, sure feels like that right now." He kicked a loose pebble along the sidewalk, watching as it skittered into the gutter. "I worked so hard to get here, Sunghoon. And for what? To sit on the sidelines like some benchwarmer?"

Sunghoon stopped walking and grabbed M/n's arm, spinning him around to face him. His eyes glittered with intensity, his grip firm but not forceful. "Listen to me. You are not just some benchwarmer. You're one of the best players I've ever seen. And if the league won't let you prove that, then I will."

M/n blinked, taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm going to make sure Fifty-Forty pays for what they did to you," Sunghoon said, his jaw tightening. "Every point, every set, every match, we'll crush them. And when we do, it'll be for you."

"Sunghoon, you don't have to-"

"I want to," Sunghoon interrupted, his voice softening. "Because you deserve it. And because I-" He paused, his cheeks tinting pink as he broke eye contact, looking down at the ground instead. "I care about you, okay? More than I probably should."

M/n's heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. The vulnerability in Sunghoon's voice, the way his hand still lingered on his arm, it was overwhelming in the best way.

"Sunghoon..." M/n started, his voice trailing off.

Before he could say anything else, Sunghoon let go and took a step back, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make this weird. Let's just let's head to dinner, okay?"

M/n grabbed Sunghoon's hand before he could walk away. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For everything. You mean more to me than you realize."

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to fade away.

But then Sunghoon cleared his throat and gave a small, nervous smile. "Come on, the others are probably waiting for us.

Reluctantly, M/n let go of his hand, and they continued walking toward the restaurant.

The restaurant was alive with chatter, the team settled around a large table with dishes of steaming food. The laughter and clinking of glasses almost drowned out the soft tension lingering beneath the surface. M/n sat quietly at the end of the table, poking at his food while trying not to feel like an outsider... again.

Across the table, Jake stood abruptly, drawing everyone's attention. He cleared his throat, his gaze flicking briefly to M/n before settling on the table. "Uh, hey, can I have everyone's attention for a sec?"

The team quieted down, eyes turning to Jake, who shifted awkwardly under the weight of their stares.

"So, uh... I've been kind of a jerk," Jake began, his voice steady but earnest. "Especially to you, M/n."

M/n blinked in surprise, sitting up straighter. "Me?"

"Yeah," Jake said, scratching the back of his neck. "I've been... suspicious of you. Like, I thought maybe you were just using us or something. But I realize now that I was wrong. You've been nothing but genuine, and you're trying your best to be part of this team. I should've seen that sooner."

The table was silent for a moment, everyone exchanging glances. Jake took a deep breath and looked directly at M/n.

"I'm sorry, man. I messed up, and I hope you can forgive me."

M/n's expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Jake... I appreciate that. And I get it, I wasn't exactly open about myself when I first got here. But I'm not here to hurt anyone. I just want to be part of something again."

Jake nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "We want you to be part of it, too. Right, guys?"

A chorus of agreement rippled around the table, and M/n couldn't help but smile, feeling a little lighter.

Heesung, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly let out a dreamy sigh. "Wow, Babe. That was... so mature of you."

The team collectively groaned as Heesung leaned on the table, propping his chin on his hand and gazing at Jake with starry eyes.

"Here we go again," Niki muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Do you have to be like this every time I say something serious?" Jake groaned, but his ears were noticeably red.

"Can you blame me?" Heesung shot back with a playful grin. "You're like... the perfect man."

"Alright, that's enough," Coach Park interjected, barely containing a laugh as Jake buried his face in his hands, Heesung winking at him from across the table.

M/n chuckled softly, the awkwardness melting away as the team settled back into their usual dynamic.

As the plates were cleared, Coach Park clinked his fork against a glass, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, since this is a special night, I thought we'd make it even more special." He gestured to the waiter, who approached with a bottle of wine. "One bottle, strictly for the adults," Coach Park teased, raising an eyebrow at the boys.

Heeseung smirked, shooting a look at Jake. "Adults, huh? Define 'adult.'"

"Legally? Not you," Coach Park shot back, earning a chorus of laughter.

But as the waiter poured glasses for Coach Park and M/n's mother, Heeseung made his move. With a practiced sleight of hand, he stood up, pretended to drop something, swiped the bottle then walked carefully to the end of the table where M/n and Sunghoon was, "For the new couple." Heeseung whispered with a conspiratorial grin.

Sunghoon hesitated but grabbed the bottle and poured some into his empty soda cup, ultimately taking a sip, his nose scrunching up at the sharp taste. "That's... strong," he muttered.

M/n took a tentative sip as well, feeling the slight burn of the wine as it slid down his throat. He glanced at Sunghoon and couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.

"What?" Sunghoon asked, his cheeks pink, whether from the wine or embarrassment, M/n couldn't tell.

"You look like you just ate a lemon," M/n teased, his grin widening.

Sunghoon nudged him with his shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm not used to this stuff, okay?"

The moment felt private, even amidst the bustling table. For a brief second, it was just the two of them, sharing quiet laughter as the world faded into the background.

As the night wound down, Coach Park stood to settle the bill, and M/n's mother gave him a soft pat on the shoulder. "You'll be alright, sweetheart. And I'm sorry I can take you home, but you'll sleep over at the Park's," she said gently.

M/n nodded, her words comforting even as the ache in his chest lingered.

When the team began gathering their things to leave, Sunghoon turned to M/n. "You're coming with me tonight."

M/n blinked, startled. "Sunghoon, I-"

"Nope." Sunghoon's tone was firm but kind. "You need a place to stay, and I've got one. Plus, my dad will kill me if I leave you on your own after today."

M/n hesitated, his gaze flicking toward Sunghoon's earnest expression. Finally, he nodded. "Alright. Thanks."

The team exchanged knowing glances but said nothing, their goodbyes filled with warmth and encouragement as everyone dispersed into the night.

The ride to Sunghoon's house was quiet but comfortable, the hum of the car engine filling the silence. M/n leaned his head against Sunghoon's shoulder, watching the city lights blur together as they drove through the quiet streets. Sunghoon glanced at him a few times but didn't say anything, respecting the calm that had settled between them.

When they arrived, Sunghoon led M/n inside, the familiar warmth of the house wrapping around them. "My dad's is gonna stay out for a bit," Sunghoon said casually, taking off his shoes by the door. "It's just us."

M/n hummed in acknowledgment, following Sunghoon upstairs to his room. The space was neat and organized still, just like the first time he came over.

M/n tossed his bag onto a chair and sat on the edge of the bed, stripping from the itchy sweater down to his shite t-shirt underneath. As he leaned back, he sighed. "Today was... a lot."

Sunghoon sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. "Yeah, it was. But you handled it. That's what matters."

M/n turned his head to look at Sunghoon, studying his profile. "You've been... really good to me, you know that?"

Sunghoon blinked, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. "You keep saying that. I'm not really doing that much."

M/n's chest tightened, a warmth spreading through him that he hadn't felt in a long time. "You are doing enough."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the day slowly melting away. M/n laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sunghoon hesitated for a moment before lying down beside him, his movements careful and deliberate.

They lay there, side by side, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the room. After a few minutes, M/n turned his head to look at Sunghoon again, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Your bed's really comfortable," M/n said, his tone light and teasing.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Glad it meets your high standards."

M/n chuckled softly, and without thinking, he reached out to poke Sunghoon's side. Sunghoon flinched, a quiet laugh escaping him.

"Ticklish?" M/n asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Sunghoon lied, his voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing.

M/n grinned mischievously, his fingers darting toward Sunghoon's ribs. Sunghoon squirmed, laughing despite himself. "Stop! M/n, I swear-"

Their playful wrestling ended with Sunghoon pinned beneath M/n, both of them breathless and laughing. The air shifted slightly as their laughter faded, replaced by a quiet tension.

Sunghoon's face was flushed, his eyes wide as he looked up at M/n. "You're... really close," he murmured.

M/n's smile softened, his gaze searching Sunghoon's face. "Is that a bad thing?"

Sunghoon swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "No."

M/n leaned in slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

"Can we... pick up from where we left off?"

🤍

"Mm," M/n hummed in agreement. Sunghoon's eyes fluttered closed as M/n's face inched closer, their breaths mingling. He could feel the warmth radiating off M/n's body, making his skin tingle with anticipation. Slowly, hesitantly, he tilted his head down, their noses brushing against each other.

He hesitated briefly, giving M/n time to break away and say no, but before he knew it the gap was closed and their lips pressed softly against each other's. The kiss was gentle at first, one that wavered all the pervious feelings away. But as the moment stretched on, Sunghoon found himself deepening the kiss, parting his lips slightly to allow M/n to do the same.

M/n met him halfway, their lips fitting perfectly together. One of Sunghoon's hand came up to cup M/n's cheek while the other stayed firmly planted against the mattress beside his head, careful not to put too much weight on him.

Sunghoon's shuddered as M/n's cold hands slid beneath his shirt, the surprising chill causing his skin to pebble and his back arch involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped his cherry tinted lips, followed by a quiet moan that mingled in M/n's mouth. "A-ah..."

M/n smiled into the kiss hearing a sound of pleasure. Sunghoon savored the feeling of the smile and saw that as an opportunity to return the feeling. Sunghoon's fingers, now ducked into M/n's t-shirt, brushed against one of M/n's sensitive nipples, teasing it gently before wrapping his fingers around the hardened nub, giving it a gentle squeeze. M/n let out a startled yelp into the kiss, his back arching further as he pressed his chest against Sunghoon's hand.

M/n's body throbbed for more.

Continuing the gentle torture, Sunghoon rolled the nipple between his thumb and finger, eliciting another breathy moan from M/n. He could feel M/n's heart racing between his palm, matching his own frantic rhythm. Their kiss became more intense, tongues exploring each other's mouth.

Sunghoon's other hand migrated to M/n's waist, his fingers exploring the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his pants. He could feel M/n trembling slightly against him, both from the sensation of his touch and the heat mounting between them.

"Sunghoon... please," M/n whined a a little, pushing Sunghoon's hand further down to his hard.

At M/n's desperate plea, Sunghoon's hand delved further into the waistband of M/n's dress pants, his fingers wrapping around the warm, hard length of M/n's erection. He gave it a few gentle strokes then spit in his hand for lubrication, feeling M/n's hips buck against his hand, "Like this?"

"Yes, just like that, sweetheart, fuck." M/n breathed, his hand resting on his forehead, his eyes closed and his face a little sweaty.

A small blush crept across his face at being called "sweetheart,' M/n's first pet name that wasn't said in teasing. With the guidance of M/n's free hand engulfed over his, Sunghoon picked up the pace of his strokes, his other hand palming himself at the same pace. He curled his fingers around M/n's length more tightly, his thumb rubbing the sensitive tip each time his reached the top of his stroke.

"M/n..." Sunghoon whined, unable to keep himself contained in just his pants. M/n leaned up, halting both of their movements for a moment. He attacked Sunghoon's skin with peppered kisses as he helped the latter out of his clothes and then himself. As their clothes disappeared, leaving them both bare and vulnerable, Sunghoon wrapped his fingers around himself again, mirroring M/n's movements as they sat knee to knee, stroking themselves in unison. He could feel the cool air against his heated skin, heightening the sensation.

With his free hand, M/n pulled Sunghoon closer by the locks of his hair. As M/n tugged gently on his hair, Sunghoon could feel his breath hitch in his throat. His arm wrapped around M/n's waist; forehead knocked together as they lips parted and moans spilled into each other's mouths, their bodies now completely entangled.

Their movements became more urgent, their strokes faster and tighter. The room filled with sound of their ragged breath and the wet, slick sounds of their hands working. Sunghoon could feel the heat building his stomach, his muscles tensing as he got closer to the edge.

M/n... I'm gonna..." He warned his voice barely a whisper, his face contorting with the effort of holding back. He could feel M/n's hot breath against his face.

"Go, baby... together," With a final stroke, they both bend over on each other, pleasure coursing through their bodies in hot waves. Their forehead pressing together, breath mingling, they rode out their orgasms with muffled moans, hands still wrapped around each other's sensitive lengths.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Sunghoon found himself still aroused, their mixed releases coating their fingers. He looked into M/n's eyes, seeing the same unquenched desire reflected at him.

They had time. They wanted more.

M/n found himself on his back once again. Sunghoon threw his legs over M/n's waist, straddling him possessively. His hands covered M/n's wondering ones over his body as he prepared himself with the bit of lotion he could find on his nightstand.

Their eyes locked intensely as he positioned himself, one hand supporting his weight on M/n's chest, the other guiding M/n's hard length to his entrance. M/n placed his hand over Sunghoon's, the other on his waist as he guided Sunghoon onto himself.

Sunghoon eased himself down slowly, feeling himself stretch open around M/n. A mix of pleasure and slight pain crossed his features, a quiet gasp and whimper escaping his lips. Once fully taken, he took a breath before lifting himself slightly, and then sliding back down.

"Fuck..." They said in unison.

The sensation of being filled so completely with M/n's length dragging against his walls with each movement was overwhelming. Sunghoon began to bounce on M/n's lap, his hands braced on his shoulders as he rode him hard and fast, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

M/n's hands gripped Sunghoon's hips tightly, assisting the swift movements with short thrusts, Sunghoon arched his back, tilting his hips to take M/n even deeper. Pleasure spiked through every nerve ending as M/n hit his prostate with each thrust, "Fuck, M/n... fuck." Sunghoon whimpered, his thighs clenching.

Leaning down, Sunghoon sprawled out against M/n's body, his lips taking back their place on his as he arched his back, keeping his pace fast and rhythmic. M/n whispered sweet nothing and encouragement in his ear. His body tensed, his muscles quivering as he continued to impale himself on M/n length, He could feel the sweat slicking their bodies together as they moved, their bodies intertwining.

As he rode M/n, Sunghoon could feel himself teetering on the edge one more, the pleasure building to a crescendo. M/n's lips moved against his, their kiss sloppy and desperate as they both chased at their releases. "M-M/n, I'm gonna come... please, fuck, please!" Sunghoon practically screamed, lifting off M/n as he rapidly sped up.

"Mm, go, baby," M/n encouraged. With a final, powerful thrust, Sunghoon buried himself to the hilt of M/n, and came hard, his orgasm hitting him like a truck. His body shook, his vision blurred, and his screams of pleasure were muffled against M/n's mouth.

🤍

Sunghoon slumped forward, his forehead resting against M/n's sweat-slicked chest, his breath coming in ragged pulls. His body felt limp with exhaustion, utterly drained from the intense pleasure they'd just shared. He could feel M/n's heartbeat against his chest, pounding just as fast he smiled to himself a little.

As they lay there, wrapped around each other in a sweaty, tangled mess, the room slowly cooled around them, but they remained motionless, lost in the afterglow of their intense lovemaking, "M/n.." Sunghoon whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Yes, sweetheart?" M/n asked, stroking Sunghoon's black strands from stuck on his forehead with sweat.

Sunghoon inhaled sharply as M/n tenderly brushed the sweat-drenched hair from his forehead, the gentle touch sending a pleasant shiver down his spine despite his exhaustion. He gazed up into M/n's eyes, a soft, loving smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Did I pass the boyfriend initiation?" 

🏐🏐🏐

The next two weeks flew by in a whirlwind of drills, strategy meetings, and intense matches. The league season had finally begun, and the Enha team wasted no time proving their mettle. With each game, their chemistry on the court grew stronger, their movements fluid and synchronized as they dominated their opponents.

M/n watched from the sidelines with Coach Park, a clipboard in hand and a sharp eye on the games. Though he wasn't on the court, he poured his heart into supporting the team, offering advice during timeouts, studying their opponents' strategies, and cheering louder than anyone when they scored.

"Nice block, Heeseung!" M/n called out during their third match of the league, his voice cutting through the roaring crowd. Heeseung glanced back at him with a smile and a thumbs up before refocusing on the game.

Coach Park leaned over, his tone approving. "You've got a good eye, M/n. Keep it up."

M/n smiled at the praise, feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest. Despite not being able to play, he had found his place within the team, and it was more fulfilling than he had expected.

The final whistle blew, signaling another victory for Enha. The players erupted into cheers, huddling together in celebration. Sunghoon turned toward the sideline, his gaze immediately finding M/n. He gave a small, triumphant grin, his eyes shining with pride.

M/n clapped for them, feeling a mix of joy and longing. He couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to be out there with them, sharing in their triumphs on the court.

As the team exited the gym, Coach Park gathered them for a quick debrief. "Great work today, everyone. Keep this momentum going, and we'll be in the finals before you know it. Now, go home and rest up. We've got another match tomorrow."

The players nodded, their excitement still palpable as they grabbed their bags and headed out.

Meanwhile, news of Fifty-Forty's performance spread like wildfire. They were just as dominant, crushing their opponents with ruthless efficiency.

In the stands during one of their matches, M/n sat beside Sunghoon, their expressions tense as they watched Fifty-Forty dismantle yet another team.

"They're no joke," Sunghoon muttered, his jaw clenched.

M/n nodded, his eyes narrowing as he studied Fifty-Forty's captain. "They're strong, but they've got weaknesses like everyone else."

Sunghoon glanced at him, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. "You're always thinking ahead, huh?"

M/n shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Someone has to."

The tension between the two teams continued to build, the inevitable clash looming closer with each passing match. The air was thick with anticipation, both on and off the court, as everyone braced for what was sure to be an explosive showdown.

-

The gymnasium was alive with energy, the stands packed with fans, their cheers reverberating off the walls. Signs and banners waved in the air, half supporting Enha, the other half cheering for Fifty-Forty. The tension was palpable as the two rival teams stepped onto the court; their expressions hardened with determination.

M/n sat on the sidelines next to Coach Park, his hands gripping the edge of his seat. His heart pounded as he watched his teammates stretch and warm up, their usual lighthearted banter replaced with a tense silence.

"You okay?" Coach Park asked, noticing M/n's rigid posture.

M/n exhaled deeply, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. I just... hate that I can't be out there with them."

Coach Park gave a reassuring nod. "You're part of this team, M/n. Don't forget that."

The referee's whistle cut through the noise, signaling the start of the match. The players took their positions, and the crowd roared in anticipation.

Enha started strong, their teamwork shining as they secured the first set. Heeseung's powerful spikes and Sunghoon's precise serves had the audience on their feet, cheering wildly.

"Let's go, Enha!" M/n shouted, his voice hoarse from yelling.

But Fifty-Forty wasn't going down without a fight. Their captain, a towering figure with a cocky smirk, rallied his team with sharp commands.

"Is that all you've got, Sunghoon?" Wonbin sneered after expertly blocking one of Sunghoon's spikes.

Sunghoon's jaw tightened, his glare icy as he repositioned himself.

From the sidelines, M/n bristled at the taunt. He clenched his fists, wishing he could step onto the court and shut Wonbin up himself.

The second set was a turning point. Fifty-Forty came out swinging, their aggressive playstyle rattling Ehna. Their constant taunts chipped away at the team's focus, and unforced errors began to pile up.

"Shake it off, guys!" Heeseung called out, trying to rally his teammates.

But the momentum had shifted. Fifty-Forty took the second set with a commanding lead, their fans erupting in celebration.

M/n felt helpless as he watched his team falter. Sunghoon, usually composed and confident, looked visibly frustrated. Jake's usual precision wavered, and Heeseung's attempts to keep morale high were met with silence.

The third and final set was brutal. Fifty-Forty's relentless attacks and flawless defense left Enha scrambling. The gym grew quieter with each point they lost, the once-boisterous cheers of Enha's fans replaced with murmurs of concern.

When the final whistle blew, the scoreboard read 25-18 in Fifty-Forty's favor.

The gym fell silent for a moment before Fifty-Forty's fans erupted into cheers. Their players celebrated on the court, high-fiving and smirking at their defeated opponents.

Enha, on the other hand, stood frozen, their heads hanging low. M/n's heart ached as he watched his friends walk off the court, their shoulders slumped in defeat. He wanted to say something, anything, to lift their spirits, but no words came to him.

Coach Park stood and clapped his hands loudly. "Heads up, team! This is just one game. Learn from it and move forward."

The team nodded half-heartedly; their spirits clearly crushed.

As they walked past the sidelines, M/n reached out and lightly grabbed Sunghoon's wrist. "Hey," he said softly.

Sunghoon glanced at him, his eyes filled with frustration and something else, something M/n couldn't quite place.

"You did great," M/n said, his voice firm. "Don't let them get in your head."

Sunghoon gave a small, strained smile and nodded before heading toward the locker room.

M/n watched him go, his chest tightening with a mix of pride and heartbreak.

The parking lot was dimly lit, the cold night air biting against Sunghoon's flushed skin. He had walked out to clear his head after the devastating loss, his duffle bag slung over one shoulder. His steps echoed in the empty space, his mind replaying the match over and over. The sting of defeat gnawed at him, but it wasn't just the loss, it was the way Fifty-Forty had dragged all of his work into their taunts.

"Sunghoon," a voice called out, sharp and mocking.

Sunghoon turned to see a group of Fifty-Forty players leaning casually against a car, their faces twisted with smug grins. Wonbin, intimidating, stepped forward, crossing his arms.

"Rough game," he said with faux sympathy. "Can't handle the pressure?"

Sunghoon ignored him and kept walking, his jaw clenched tightly.

But the taunts didn't stop.

"Still got your little cheerleader on the sidelines, though," another player jeered. "You think you can turn him out? Turn his little ass in your little personal fuck, 'casue it's not like he's better for anything else, right?"

Sunghoon froze. His grip on his bag tightened, and he slowly turned to face them, his eyes blazing. "Don't talk about him."

The captain smirked. "Why not? We know him the best. We don't blame you. I've had a try too. But it makes me wonder how long he'll stick around before he moves on."

"Shut up," Sunghoon said, his voice low and dangerous.

The group laughed, their mockery echoing in the empty lot.

"Or what?" the captain sneered. "You gonna hit me, pretty boy?"

Sunghoon dropped his bag and took a step forward. "Say one more thing about him. I dare you."

The tension snapped like a taut wire. Wonbin shoved Sunghoon, and before he could think, Sunghoon swung back. The fight erupted in an instant, punches flying as the other Fifty-Forty members joined in.

Sunghoon held his own, his movements fueled by anger and adrenaline, but the numbers weren't in his favor. A punch to his stomach doubled him over, and a shove sent him sprawling to the ground.

"Give it up, Park Sunghoon," one of them sneered, standing over him.

"Enough!"

The voice rang out, and suddenly the rest of Enha rushed into the scene. Heeseung and Jake pulled the Fifty-Forty players away, while Jay helped Sunghoon to his feet.

"What the hell is wrong with y'all?" Heeseung demanded, his voice sharp.

"Just teaching your captian a lesson," the captain said with a smirk before stepping back, his hands raised in mock surrender. "See you at the next match."

The Fifty-Forty players walked off, laughing amongst themselves, leaving Enha standing in the parking lot, seething with anger.

"You okay?" Jay asked, steadying Sunghoon.

Sunghoon nodded, wiping blood from his lip. "I'm fine."

Jake glared in the direction the other team had gone. "Those assholes... They're lucky we didn't take it further."

Heeseung placed a hand on Sunghoon's shoulder. "Why didn't you call us? You can't take them on alone."

Sunghoon looked down, his fists clenching at his sides. "They were talking about M/n. I couldn't just let it go."

Back in the locker room, the atmosphere was heavy. Sunghoon sat on the bench, a cold pack pressed against his cheek.

M/n rushed in moments later, his face pale with worry. "What happened? I just heard-"

He stopped short when he saw Sunghoon's bruised face. His eyes widened, and he dropped his bag, rushing to his side.

"Sunghoon, what the hell?" M/n asked, his voice tight with a mix of anger and concern.

"It's nothing," Sunghoon muttered, avoiding his gaze.

"Nothing?!" M/n crouched in front of him, his hands hovering uncertainly. "You're bleeding! Who did this?"

Sunghoon hesitated, then sighed. "Nobody... Fifty-Forty. They were... saying things. About you."

M/n's expression darkened. He stood abruptly, his fists clenched. "I'm going to-"

"No." Sunghoon grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Don't. It's not worth it."

M/n looked down at him, his anger melting into guilt. "This is my fault. If I wasn't-"

"Stop," Sunghoon said firmly, his grip tightening. "It's not your fault. I'd do it again if it meant defending you."

M/n's breath hitched, his heart twisting. He sank back onto the bench beside Sunghoon, his head in his hands. "You're an idiot," he muttered, but his voice was soft, almost fond.

Sunghoon chuckled lightly, wincing at the movement. "Yeah. Guess I am."

-

The echo of raised voices filled the otherwise empty gymnasium as Coach Park and Coach Shin stood face to face, their tense postures mirroring the intensity of their words. The aftermath of the parking lot altercation had brought them to this moment, emotions boiling over like an untamed storm.

"This is unacceptable, Shin," Coach Park said sharply, his fists clenched at his sides. "Your players are out of control! Attacking one of mine in the parking lot? What kind of example are you setting?"

Coach Shin's jaw tightened as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't stand there and pretend like you've got a team of angels, Park. I don't condone what happened, but my boys aren't the only ones with tempers. Maybe you should focus on keeping your own players in line."

"Keeping them in line?" Coach Park stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "My players don't corner others in parking lots to throw punches. They don't spew venom about someone's past just to get a rise out of them. Your team is toxic, and you know it."

Coach Shin's expression darkened, and for a moment, his guard slipped. "You don't know anything about my team or what they've been through. M/n is my son, not yours. They're misunderstood, Park. You're so quick to judge, just like you always were."

Coach Park faltered, his anger momentarily giving way to something more vulnerable. "Misunderstood? That's your excuse? I'm not judging them; I'm holding you accountable. You're supposed to lead them, to teach them. Instead, you're letting them become bullies."

Coach Shin let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "You think it's that simple? Not everyone gets to lead a golden team like you, Park. I've had to fight tooth and nail for these boys, to keep them from falling apart. I'm doing the best I can."

"That's not good enough!" Coach Park's voice cracked, frustration bleeding into his tone. "Your 'best' isn't protecting them. Not protecting, M/n. It's enabling them. And it's hurting people like Sunghoon and your son."

The mention of M/n's name seemed to strike a nerve in Coach Shin, and his expression softened, just barely. "M/n doesn't need you to fight his battles. He's stronger than you think. I know that best."

"This isn't about his strength," Coach Park shot back. "It's about the fact that he shouldn't have to keep fighting, especially not against people who should know better. He's already been through enough."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of the conversation hung heavy between them, the silence filled with unspoken words and unhealed wounds.

"You've always been so self-righteous," Coach Shin finally said, his voice quieter now, almost tired. "Like you're the only one who cares. But you don't know everything, Park. You don't know what it's like to carry this kind of weight."

"And you don't know what it's like to lose someone because you refused to do the right thing," Coach Park replied, his voice steady but laced with emotion. "Is that what this is about, Shin? Are you still running from what happened back then?"

Coach Shin flinched, the words cutting deeper than he expected. "Don't," he warned, his voice trembling slightly.

"I'm not the one who left," Coach Park said softly, his gaze unwavering. "You did."

The tension shifted, the air between them charged with something far more personal than the fight in the parking lot. Both men stood there, locked in a standoff of old wounds and unresolved feelings, until finally, Coach Shin turned away.

"This isn't about us," he muttered, his shoulders tense. "It's about the kids."

"You're right," Coach Park said, his voice firm. "So, start acting like it. Fix this, Shin. Before it gets worse."

Coach Shin didn't respond. Instead, he walked away, leaving Coach Park standing alone in the dimly lit gym, his heart heavy with both the present conflict and the echoes of the past.

The last echo of footsteps faded down the hallway as the gym doors creaked shut. Coach Park stood alone in the center of the court, the faint hum of the overhead lights casting long, wavering shadows around him. The gym felt vast and hollow, a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of raised voices and clashing egos.

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The court, once filled with the sound of squeaking sneakers and competitive laughter, now felt like a museum of memories, some warm, others sharp and aching.

His gaze shifted to the far corner, where a scuff mark on the polished wood caught his eye. It was nothing extraordinary, just another blemish from a hard-fought practice, but it tugged at something deep in his chest. He could almost hear the laughter, see the vibrant energy of a younger Shin, diving for a ball, flashing that cocky grin that had once made Park's heart skip a beat.

He closed his eyes, willing the memory away, but it was no use. The past came flooding back with the force of a wave, shared moments under the glaring gym lights, stolen conversations after practices, and the way Shin's voice used to soften, just slightly, when he was speaking to Park.

"Why did you have to make it so hard?" Park muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper. His words echoed faintly in the empty space, a reminder of just how alone he felt.

His shoulders sagged as the weight of it all pressed down on him; the conflict with Shin, the responsibility he felt for his team, and the gnawing regret that had lingered for years. He thought he had moved on, buried those feelings beneath the demands of coaching and the passage of time. But tonight, it was as if every unspoken word and unresolved moment between them had resurfaced, raw and unrelenting.

Park's fingers traced the whistle hanging around his neck, the metal cool against his skin. He thought about the fight in the parking lot, about Sunghoon standing up for M/n despite the odds, and about M/n's quiet resilience in the face of so much adversity. He admired their courage, their ability to confront things head-on.

If only he'd had that same courage all those years ago.

He sighed, shaking his head as he turned toward the doors. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if the weight of the past made it harder to move forward. Just before he reached the exit, he paused, glancing back at the court one last time.

"I'm not the only one carrying this, am I?" he murmured, his voice tinged with both bitterness and longing.

The gym offered no answers, only the quiet hum of the lights and the faint creak of the floor beneath his feet. With a final sigh, Coach Park pushed open the doors and stepped into the cool night air, leaving the gym behind, but not the memories.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

TA DA, my next masterpiece y/n as a belly dancer, I never seen anyone make this au of them so here's one. It's with the theme for burning spice and golden cheese.

In a fanfic how would they reacted to this along with the other beasts cookies and the gang.

Golden Cheese cookie and Burning Spice cookie are fighting ruthlessly as their friends (Followers) watch from the sides. Y/N is also watching, but she's unamused and bored.

Golden Cheese cookie: MINE! They are MY dancer! Gtet away you insufferable brute!

Burning Spice cookie: They were mine first! Or need I remind you of who's power you hold?! Come at me dumb bird!

Y/N cookie: Ugh... Their arguing combined with the heat wears me out quicker. I need a break from this.

Mozzarella cookie: You could always go to the kingdom?

Y/N cookie: Which one? Cuz as far as I know, I live in two.

Nutmeg Tiger cookie: Obviously you should return to ours-

Smoked Cheese cookie: Fat chance, your spice storms are too harsh for them-

Nutmeg Tiger cookie: And you castle is too bright, we even!

Y/N cookie: Hm... I think I'll just do the responsible thing.

Burning Spice cookie and Golden Cheese cookie stop fighting for a moment and all cookies look at Y/N, anticipating their next choice.

Y/N cookie: I'm going to my siblings house.

All: WHAT?!

Golden Cheese cookie: B-but- why?!

Burning Spice cookie: You shouldn't leave! I have yet to pound this bird to the ground!

Golden Cheese cookie: Why you insolent-

Y/N cookie: That's why.

Both: Huh?

Y/N cookie: The heat, the arguing, it's all so draining. I've grown used to it, yes, but even I need a break. 3 days. 3 days and I'll return. Got it?

All the cookies glance at each other before glancing at Golden Cheese cookie and Burning Spice cookie. The two glare at each other, than cross their arms and sigh as they quickly avert their gaze once more.

Both: *Mumbling* Fine.

And that settled it. The next day, Y/N cookie was off to live at their siblings place. Even though it'd only be for 3 days, there was a whole farewell thing where the cookies granted them luck. After a long day of travelling, they made it. They walked up to the door and knocked. Soon it opened and Original Y/N greeted them.

Original: Hey Belly Dancer Y/N. Wait- why are you-

BD Y/N: I'll explain later, can I come in? I just travel a heck of a long way just to get here.

Original Y/N: And how exactly did you make it in a day?

BD Y/N: I realized half way that I had some magic dust from the kulfi's in the pocket. I teleported here after having a hell of a break down for realizing what an idiot I am.

Original: Well... uh... You know what, just come in.

The next day the house sounded like it was bustling with activity, causing BD Y/N to wake up. They leave the room to see the Twin Y/N's arguing with Military Y/N and 350 Kilos Y/N. Original Y/N is trying to be the voice of reason, but to no avail. Realizing how similar it was here than when they were in the desert, BD Y/N decided it was better if they excused themselves from the house.

Whilst outside, BD Y/N lounged in the hammock. Always dancing, always in heat, always hearing argument. This quiet atmosphere was a nice change of pace. But just as they were relaxing-

BD Y/N: Gya?!-

A ball hits them straight in the face, causing them to spin around in the hammock in a twist before ultimately falling off and face first into the dirt. They bring their head u with an upset expression displayed on their face before their eyes land on the ball. As they get up, they hear voices approaching.

Gingerbrave: OMG- I'M SO SORRY!

Strawberry cookie: A-are you ok?!

Wizard cookie: It was an accident!

BD Y/N looks up at the three- no, five cookies approaching. One of them goes to their side and helps them up before brushing of their shoulder nonchalantly.

Chili Pepper cookie: Eh, you'll be fine. A little bit of ball and dirt never hurt anybody- gah?!-

Custard cookie iii: *Hits her in the side with his scepter* You can't just say that! We're super sorry!

Strawberry cookie: Are you hurt?

BD Y/N needs a moment to look at them. 4 kids and one teen. Despite their original displeasure, they could see that they really meant no harm. B/D Y/N puts on a soft smile and shakes her head.

BD Y/N: No no, I'm not hurt. And it's ok, it was an accident after all.

The kids: Phew.

Gingerbrave: Say, who are you? We've never seen you around before.

BD Y/N: Oh, right, my mistake. I'm Belly Dancer Y/N. I usually reside in the desert, but I'm staying here for the next three days.

They all exchange glances before the barrage of questions comes crashing into BD Y/N faster than they can react. They're faced with several more questions before eventually Original Y/N comes outside to assist her a bit. The day goes by in a flash and soon it's night time, mean BD Y/N can finally rest.

Unfortunately, "rest" isn't something any Y/N can do, aside from tired Y/N. Their short slumber is cut off soon as she wakes u to the sounds of air rushing past them. Before they can react, a vortex of sorts extracts them from their bed and brings them to another place, one which they're partially familiar with.

Shadow Milk cookie: Ah! there we go! All in one piece. Sleep well fellow performer?

BD Y/N: I- How'd-

Mystic Flour cookie: Questions for later.

BD Y/N: Why am I here.

Eternal Sugar cookie: well *yawns* Burning whatever his name is asked us- *yawns* to look after you.

BD Y/N: Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh of course he did. And where's the quiet one?

Shadow Milk cookie: Beats me. But I suppose we should keep ourselves busy until you return to our spicy fellow, hm?

BD Y/N: Ugh, I just wanna rest! Is that too much to ask for?!

Eternal Sugar cookie: Omg, relatable.

BD Y/N: You know what? Screw it! I'M GOING HOME!

Mystic Flour cookie: And where would that be?

BD Y/N: ANYWHERE BUT HERE!!!

They walk off in a huff. After long hours of walking, they made it to beast yeast somehow, remembering they still had the kulfi dust. Without even greeting their companions, they walked of to a tomb, got in, closed it and slept in hopes that maybe the others will think they're dead and leave them alone.

[izels-writing]

j. potter — how forever feels! [2/?]

Pairing: james potter x fem!hopelessromantic!reader

Summary: the stars have aligned and you and james’ futures have aligned.

Warning: fake dating trope!!, socially anxious reader, slightly ooc james, slightly teeniest bit rushed but not rlly, LET ME KNOW IF I MISS SOMETHING!!

a/n: sorry for the slow updates my loves, i had a family member pass. but here i am and here’s part 2!!

TAGLIST: @hisparentsgallerryy

let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

it had been a few weeks since you and james had made your deal. so far, all the two of you had really accomplished was everyone thinking james needed help with herbology and muggle studies—which, truthfully, he did.

"i feel like it's been long enough," james commented as he followed you around the library. you were currently choosing out books to help him actually study, while he carried most of the books.

"yeah, i suppose it has," you shrugged. "better now then never,"

"then," he grinned, putting the books down on a nearby table. "y/n, will you do me the honor of being my fake girlfriend?" he asked, getting down on one knee.

"i absolutely will," you grinned, placing a hand on his cheek. he noticed someone nearby and subtly pointed it out to you. you looked briefly and subtly and noticed carlota wilkins, the school gossip, watching you both—though she didn't seem to be in earshot.

"perfect timing," you smiled. like you two had discussed, he leaned close and cupped your face, covering where your lips would actually be touching. but like he had agreed, he pretended to kiss your lips and actually kissed your cheek. you both smiled adoringly at each other when you pulled away, looking to see that carlota had quickly scurried off.

"so, how should we do this? you'll walk me to classes, wait for me outside? have meals together?" you whispered. he nodded.

"and, with any luck, news of our passionate, bookish love story will have circulated the castle by then," he smirked at you. he grabbed the books you had picked out and both of you walked back to the table where all your stuff had been laid out.

after an hour of studying, you two decided to head for dinner. as far as you were aware, nothing had been around the school. matter of fact, you were sure this dinner was the first time many would see you and james even interact.

"hold my hand," he whispered to you, holding out his hand. you gripped his hand, finding it slightly bigger than yours and much softer. it was clear the boy hadnt grown calluses from quidditch, and if he had, he took care well.

he intertwined your hands, walking close to you as you two conversed normally. as the weeks had passed, you found you actually enjoyed the boy's company—even despite his stark difference in personality to you.

"do you want to do the thing you mentioned?" he asked before you entered the great hall.

"what thing?" you asked dumbfounded.

"that thing with the cleaning my glasses," he reminded.

you'd mentioned it so long ago, you didn't realize he'd remember it. in fact, you were sure at the time that he wasn't even listening.

you smiled. "yes, please," you pleaded.

"fine, we'll do it. but you better not dirty them," he warned jokingly.

"i'm not sure i could do any worse than they are now," you replied sarcastically.

"think your funny, do you?" he asked with a playful glare.

"i think i'm hilarious," you replied with a grin.

as you walked into the great hall, hands intertwined, it caught the attention of many near you. it lead to various whispers circulating the great hall, and for a moment, you almost felt embarrassed. that was until you noticed james and saw he wasn't looking at them, he was looking at you, expecting you to do what the two of you had planned.

"i feel weird now," you whispered.

"don't pay any mind to them, just do it," he encouraged.

you nodded with a small smile and grabbed his glasses, cleaning them briefly on your shirt. as you looked through them to judge the cleanness, you realized how bad james' eyesight really was.

"merlin, you're as blind as a bat," you blurted quietly.

"how romantic," he replied lowly. you rolled your eyes playfully.

once you seemed it clean enough, you slid the glasses back onto his face gently and fixed his hair. unbeknownst to you, james struggled to not lean into your soft touch. it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

then he did something spontaneous, but not entirely a bad idea. he wrapped his arms around your waist in a brief  embrace and kissed your cheek. caught off guard, you laughed happily.

"good idea," you mumbled to him, staring into his eyes to really sell the adoring, cheesy feel of the new relationship. as far as anyone knew, this could've been going on for some time.

then, you and james made your way over to his friends. you'd only really met them once before, sharing a couple notes of conversation at a party—mostly with remus. before you could sit down, you told james you'd be back and ran off to explain to your friends—benjamin and b/f/n.

"hey guys, sorry, i'm having dinner with james today. but i'll sit with you guys tomorrow at breakfast," you smiled softly.

“sounds good!” your best friend smiled. but benjamin was frowning.

“you always sit with us for dinner? since when are you and potter a thing?” benjamin asked pointedly.

“well, it sorta just happened,” you shrugged. “he received my letter and we started talking and, well, the rest is history,”

“who knew you had a hard on for the gryffindor king of quidditch?” your best friend teased. “how far have you two gotten? have you kissed?!”

“no, we’re taking things slow, and if we do kiss, it will be private,” you reminded her.

“ugh, you’re not fun,” she chuckled. “very well, go have dinner with your boy toy, i’ll see you at the dorms,”

you nodded and walked off with a small smile, ignoring benjamin’s frown and glaring at james. what did he care? he wasn’t your boyfriend, much less your keeper. you quickly made your way over to james, who scooted to make a place beside him. he wrapped an arm around your waist and smiled at you before turning to his friends.

“lads, this is my girlfriend, y/n,” james smiled. “y/n, this is remus, sirius, and peter,”

they all looked confused but not surprised. james had mentioned you loads of times before, considering you were ‘tutoring him’. they just weren’t sure when that blossomed into this relationship.

“it’s nice to meet you all, i’ve heard a lot about you,” you smiled, extending your hand to each of them.

“nice to meet you too,” remus smiled, being the first to shake your hand. sirius and peter followed suit with a smile.

you smiled. “is it alright if i sit with you? i know it’s a bit unexpected,” you asked, though you knew the answer.

“any girlfriend of james’ is a friend of ours,” peter replied kindly.

“but just so you know, i was here first and you are not taking our date nights,” sirius said playfully.

you nodded. “absolutely, i know my place,” you joked back.

“perfect,” sirius winked.

——

a month had passed since you and james had officially revealed your relationship to the school. many different students had come up to you, striking a conversation as though you were long time friends, mainly because they were acquaintances of james. those who didn’t come up to talk to you—they just stared. it was nerve wracking to say the least.

on the brighter side, you were becoming much closer friends with james’ friends.

“no! there’s no way you actually believe that!” you laughed, shaking your head at sirius.

“think about it! eugenia jenkins has to be a secret muggle!” sirius replied.

“remus, please tell me you don’t actually entertain this,” you laughed.

“i stopped listening to sirius a long time ago, i just nod and say, ‘yes, love,’” remus grinned.

“you two are unbelievable,” sirius pouted.

“so, james, first game on saturday, how are we feeling?” peter asked, rolling his eyes at you and sirius’ debate on conspiracy theories playfully.

james cleared his throat, looking away from where he was staring—which was directly at a redhead with piercing emerald eyes—and looked at peter. he sighed.

“nervous as hell, i mean this is my first game as captain—what if my team screws up?” he confessed to you all.

“i’m sure you’ll do fine,” you replied kindly. “you’re one of the best quidditch players ever,”

“and she’s not just saying that because she’s your girlfriend,” remus interjected.

“no, i’m not,” you laughed, forgetting momentarily that james’ friends actually believed you were together. “you give your all to these games, you’ll do perfectly,”

“thank you, y/n,” he grinned. he then glanced around, both of you noticing that lily’s eyes had wandered to the both of you, and kissed your cheek.

peter scrunched his nose. “ew, keep it in your pants, potter,”

you and james laughed.

——

the first game had finally arrived and you felt like an idiot. it wasn’t that you felt embarrassed about james, there was nothing to be embarrassed about—he was your ‘boyfriend’. however, public displays of affection were not your thing. much less anything that could draw attention to you in general.

you put your hair up in a half-up do, perfecting the stray hairs and fixing your makeup thousands of times. then you turned around, picking up the old jersey james had lent you and slipping it on over your long sleeve shirt. it fit slightly baggy, but not overly big. you turned, your back facing the mirror as you glanced at the letters sprawled across the back with the number 07 below it.

“ooooo! you look so cute!” your best friend exclaimed as she walked into your shared dorm. she smiled happily at the sight of your wearing the jersey.

“thank you,” you chuckled, your cheeks heating up to a light pink. “it isn’t too much?”

“no! are you kidding?! you look like a supportive girlfriend,” your best friend encouraged. “benjamin would never do anything like that for me,”

your best friend was also on the quidditch team, but benjamin had never worn her jersey as he found it embarrassing. he and your best friend had also been having issues for the last two weeks, about what, you weren’t sure. your best friend wasn’t ready to share it with you yet and you weren’t going to push.

“how is that going by the way?” you asked, smiling gently at her.

“it’s fine, just a rough patch i guess,” she shrugged. “anyway, you should get down to the pitch, i heard lily evans is going down to give the team cookies she baked,”

“okay?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

your best friend gave you a bewildered look. “you haven’t heard?! she has a crush on james! she’s going to try to seduce your man—with cookies!”

you then remembered, you and james are supposed to be dating. except it wasn’t that hard to remember, because when she mentioned the crush lily had on james—for a split moment, you felt jealously pull at your heart strings.

“well i suppose i should wish him luck before the game,” you nodded, before grabbing your gift for james and heading out the door.

it had been a spontaneous buy, seeing it in the daily prophet and noticing the way james kept looking at it. you decided, as a fake girlfriend, maybe it’d be a nice gesture to buy him something he’d like.

within minutes you had reached the quidditch locker room, finding the entrance much easier than you’d expected. you quickly entered, faced with different boys and girls changing. thankfully, none seemed to be annoyed with your presence—just indifferent.

you spotted lily by the corner of the room, waiting for everyone to finish up changing—noticing that she was subtly ogling james as he changed his shirt. you weren’t entirely sure what to do. james wanted lily’s attention, so what do you do now that he has it?

but, you did still have a gift for him…

“hey, j,” you smiled, walking over to him. he smiled at you, and for the first time ever, he didn’t check to see if lily was around—he just kissed your cheek.

“hello, pretty lady,” he grinned. “what’re you doing here?”

“just wishing you luck,” you replied with a small smile. “and i brought you something,”

you held out the small box to him, waiting for him to take it. he did and smiled, looking confused as he opened it, but when he did he smiled widely. as he pulled the broomstick pendant of the box, he marveled at it.

“wow, this is…incredible, thank you,” he whispered, pulling you in for a hug—forgetting that he was still shirtless. you didn’t mind.

you hugged him back and smiled, “of course. i know you’ve been talking about wanting a lucky charm, i figured this could be it,”

“thank you, i’ve never had anyone do something like this before,” james grinned.

“it’s what friends do,” you whispered in his ear, ruffling his hair. his smile faltered a bit before nodding.

“of course,” he chuckled. except you could feel that something in him had changed.

“you alright?” you asked.

“yeah just nervous i suppose,” he chuckled. “but i hope my girl will be in the stands watching me,”

“you know it,” you smiled, punching his arm playfully.

“i see you have the jersey on, looks cute on you—I don’t know anyone who could wear it as nicely as you,” he complimented. “course, except for me,”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “thank you, i just feel weird. like i’m drawing attention to myself,”

“attention you’ve drawn to yourself is the best kind to receive,” he grinned. “alright, i’ll see you after the game i have to give my pep talk now,”

“alright, see you,” you smiled. and before you could turn, he grabbed your wrist and kissed your cheek again, leading for you in turn to kiss him back on the cheek.

“you’re going to do great,” you reminded, placing a hand on his cheek before finally leaving the locker rooms.

with a big smile on your face.

[zaine-m]

more arcane serial killer au (part 4)

The day where everything went wrong. Jayce was supposed to be out of town with his parent's that weekend

Viktor had decided to take up some experiments on one of the bodies they couldn't find a better use for. it was messy, there was blood covering the apartment but he knew how to clean it up in time for Jayce's return

But then in the middle of one of his experiments he heard a knock on the door and before he could do anything it was opening to show Jayce standing there with a bouquet of roses

His face instantly fell into horror "WHAT ARE YOU DOING" he screamed with complete terror. "Jayce, this isn't what it looks like" Viktor reached for the nearest vial of sedative and slowly began approaching Jayce

"STOP, DON'T COME ANY CLOSER" Jayce began to back up but Viktor continued, "just take a deep breath, this can all be solved"

But then just according to Viktor's haphazard plan Jayce stumbled on the top step before losing his footing and falling down the stairs

Viktor breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the ugly bend halfway up Jayce's shin, "come on, just let me take care of this for you"

Jayce was still trying to make his way down the stairs dragging his leg behind him but at that speed Viktor didn't struggle to catch up to him and administer the tranquilizer

Jayce woke up to the sound of a strange old and dry voice, he decides not to open his eyes for fear of what they might to do him, "I'll treat the leg enough for it to not get infected but he should still have residual pain from the injury and some trouble walking", "perfect" that voice he recognizes clear as day

He feels Viktor's hand on his cheek and can't resist the urge to look at him, "my Jayce, I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. But if you'll just listen you'll understand how much good I'm doing", Jayce wants to pull away or yell at him but he finds his body too weak to do either, "doing good? Viktor you were killing him"

"The bodies I procure, I use their organs to save those who need them. I've saved so many people who would have died waiting on some list"

"but you killed people"

"a price had to be paid but trust me we make the most of all the bodies we take"

"what are you gonna do to me?"

Viktor brushes the hair off from Jayce's face tenderly, "no... no... you, my Srdce* are far to precious to just distribute like the rest of them" Viktor softly holds his hand over Jayce's heart, "I have inserted a capsule I designed next to your heart. If you force me to it will severe the connection leading into and out of your heart, perfectly preserving it so it may be put into my chest after you have passed. But I do prefer it in you so please just do as I say" Viktor brings Jayce's hand up so Jayce is tenderly cradling his face

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*Srdce means heart in Czech