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lovscb97 · 2 months ago

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— stray kids links [maknae line]

tags: maknae line!stray kids x fem!reader, established relationship, use of nicknames (baby, angel, puppy, sweetheart, etc), thigh job, oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, squirting, oral sex (m. receiving), slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex (do not plz), rough sex, degradation (slut, whore, etc), dirty talk, punishments, begging, orgasm denial, creampie, pain kink, titfucking, praise, hand kink, shower sex, overstimulation, etc

wc: 2.95k

add. notes: hello,..,,...,... sorry for not posting consistently n for taking so long to do this i have been busy w exams as i said but i am almost free!!! in honor of that n both my links posts for skzenha hyung line reaching 2k+ notes, i present to u skz maknae line links :3 also im sorry 2 that anon who recommended i use reddit links i Did put one in from redgifs but tbh im lazy to find good stuff on there so most of this is from twt skjdjfhjhg i hope that is Ok.. anyways enjoy ehe

hyung line ver.

. . .

⥽ … HAN JISUNG:

link one.

one thing jisung will never say no to is a thigh job from you. he loves the feeling of your plush flesh enveloping his cock, squeezing it ever so slightly between your legs to give him that delicious pressure he so desperately craves. it's always after a particularly rough day that his eyes will light up at your offer too, and before you know it, you're both stripped down and laying on the bed, your frame resting on jisung's warm body as he bucks his hips up to chase the friction which will provide him relief at long last. sometimes, he'll ask you to do the work for him, enjoying the way you move your figure up and down his hardened length until you grow too tired, which just draws a small chuckle from his lips before he's pressing a kiss to your cheek and going back to the task himself. it always ends with him finishing between the crack of your ass, his groans reverberating through the room as he cums.

"oh, fuck. that's it, baby." your boyfriend moans below you, his pretty face contorted in pleasure as you move your thighs up and down his shaft, biting your lip at how his tip nestles itself against you. despite having been too lazy to let him fuck you, your juices still pool between your legs, acting as clear evidence of your arousal and helping in slicking up jisung's cock that's twitching from your onslaught ministrations. "sungie, 'm tired." you whine after a while, your muscles aching from the way you've been lifting them up and down for the last five minutes, to which jisung just huffs out a laugh. he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to him and presses a kiss to the side of your face that has you smiling. "alright, lemme take over." he starts. "but, once i'm done, you're not going anywhere until you cum on my tongue." he whispers, sending shivers up your spine.

link two.

the first time you tried face sitting with jisung, you were hesitant. what if you suffocated him? what if he couldn't tap out in enough time and died? how would you explain that to your family at his funeral? despite your overthinking, jisung hushed away all your concerns, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he flashed you his signature smile after claiming all he needs in life is your pretty pussy smothering him. you'd gasped at his crude words and smacked him on the arm, but something about his admission had you thinking. after that, it didn't take much longer for you to give in to his fantasies, and once you got into the rhythm of it, you found yourself riding his nose and tongue often. jisung claimed you were his stress relief, and that eating you out made him feel like he was on cloud nine. you doubted his exaggerations, but as long as it made your boyfriend happy, you didn't mind.

obscene slurping fills the room, paired with your cries that bounced off the walls as jisung's tongue flicked through your wet hole. he'd been going at this for the past half an hour, hungrily lapping up at the essence dripping out of you and spreading it all over his face with the way he forced you to rock your hips back and forth. "ah, 'm close." you whimpered, making the mistake of looking down at your boyfriend who's currently got you perched on his mouth. his doe eyes make contact with yours, and you physically melt with the way he's glancing up at you so eagerly. if anything, after your announcement, his actions only get harsher and rougher, and it isn't long before you're squirting all over his face. jisung doesn't mind though, making sure to drink all of it up as he pulls you back down for another round, promising to make you cum even harder this time.

⥽ … LEE FELIX:

link one.

felix is a sensual lover through and through. he treats you to your favourite meal, buys you the clothes you want, takes care of you on your period, and of course, fucks you like he means it every single time. his favourite thing to do, however, is have you on your back with your legs spread and core on display in front of his awaiting mouth. he'll start by pressing wet kisses to your inner thighs, sucking ever so gently on the flesh just enough to make you squirm and grow wet. when he's got you leaking on the sheets, that's when he'll part you by the knees and dive in, warm tongue flicking out to caress your clit with its tip as you writhe under his hold. he does it so passionately too, enjoying the way you spray on his tongue and let out low noises which echo through the room alongside his lewd actions. he'll always milk at least one orgasm out of you before he even thinks of sinking inside you, but if you're being honest, you're sure doing that is much more pleasurable for him than actually fucking you.

"mm, lixie, baby. that feels so good." your mouth parts open in a soft gasp, feeling the way your boyfriend nudges his nose against your nub as he sticks his tongue out to lick inside your opening. you're sure that you're a mess of your own juices and felix's spit by now, but neither of you seem to care with the way he's swirling his wet muscle against your folds, too engrossed in his goal of making you cum all over his face. every so often, he groans lowly into you, causing the vibrations of his noises to rush through you as you clench around nothing. "c'mon, angel. give it to me." felix mumbles after pulling away momentarily, making direct eye contact with you as he moves back to push his tongue right against your swollen bundle of nerves. a few more deep licks and sucks from him have you falling apart in a silent scream, felix helping you ride out the tides of pleasure before he kisses his way back up your body. he's all smiles when he reaches you, which only prompts you to pull him in close to you. god, how you loved him.

link two.

your boyfriend may be the epitome of perfection, but one thing you debate felix loves as much as you are his gaming sessions with his friends. it's gotten to the point where he'll spend hours on no end punching buttons on his controller and cursing at enemies in front of his computer screen, too focused on his current round to pay you any attention. you've thought long and hard on how to get him to stop or at least give you some of his focus, and the only solution is obvious: sex. so, when felix is in the middle of a break, you take your chances, sinking to your knees and situating yourself underneath his desk much to his obvious confusion. his eyes widen when your fingers quickly make work of unzipping his shorts and tugging them down, small hands running across the fabric of his boxers as you bite your lip at the way he chubs out instantly. before he can even protest, you're yanking them off and taking him in your mouth in an instant. safe to say, his game is long forgotten after that.

felix's brows shoot up when he returns to find you waiting for him under your desk, mouth going dry when he sits down and you immediately go to take his cock out. the first press of your soft lips against his semi-hard length almost sends him spiralling, and he blames that on the fact that he hasn't touched you properly in the last day or so. he reckons that's why you're being so needy right now, watching with hooded eyes as your warm mouth wraps itself around him. he hisses at the sensation, heart thumping against his chest in alarm when his friends ask if he's okay from the other side of the call. "y-yeah, just stubbed my toe." felix lies, biting back a groan at the way your tongue licks at the underside of his dick. "pay attention, baby." you hush after pulling off of him, not even giving him a chance to recuperate before you're pushing him back in your mouth. he can hear his friends scolding him for being afk from his headphones, but their complains are far from his attention. all he can do right now is try not to cum on call, sinking back in his gaming chair as he locks gazes with you.

⥽ … KIM SEUNGMIN:

link one.

you know seungmin like the back of your hand, so you're well aware of the fact that he takes very lightly to your teasing and efforts to rile him up. on days where you decide to act out in front of his friends, he'll clench his jaw and go quiet in public, grip around your thigh tightening at most as he monitors your next moves carefully. nobody will suspect anything of it due to his nonchalance, but once he's got you back in private, that's when his facade comes crashing down. you won't even be able to speak before he's dragging you off to your shared bedroom, ripping you out of your clothes and manhandling you onto your stomach. you get no chances to protest either as he slides in without warning, your pained yelp for him to slow down falling upon deaf ears when he snaps his hips into yours with erratic thrusts. he'll degrade you and edge you until you're crying, truly looking to break your mind and body by the time he's done. he knows you'll misbehave again in the future, but in that very moment, at least he's got you right where he wants you: spread-legged and taking his cock like the slut you are.

"s-slow, minnie. hurts." you hiccup, broken words muffled when your boyfriend just pushes your head down into the sheets at your efforts to ask him to go easy on you. his scoff can be heard from above you, and you whine at the way his movements seem to pick up even rougher than before, arms pinned to your side as seungmin's body weight cages you in underneath him. "oh, please. you like the way it hurts, like it 'cause you're nothing but a whore." he taunts, his voice dripping with venom as you simply moan at his words. his balls slap against your clit with the way he's thrusting in and out of you, and all you can do is lay there and take it, your high rapidly approaching for what feels like the nth time today. "don't you dare fucking cum." seungmin growls when you clench down on him, leaving you begging wetly as your limp limbs give out on you. you're about to tether off the edge when he pulls out suddenly, laughing sadistically at your protests before pushing in once more to resume his actions. he repeats this over and over again, eventually filling you up but leaving you denied as punishment.

link two.

you've recently discovered your favourite way of making seungmin cum, and that's with your tits. it's especially on days when you can't be bothered to undress and get in the mood whilst your boyfriend is feeling insatiable that you'll resort to this, stripping out of your shirt and getting down on your knees in front of him. it doesn't take long after that to have seungmin's leaking cock snuggled between the valley of your chest, both your tits squeezing it in a soft hug as he groans with closed eyes. some days you don't even bother taking your bra off, using it as leverage for making sure his dick stays between your breasts. it's even more enjoyable for you despite not being able to cum, because the way seungmin becomes reduced to a whining mess through your actions fills you with pride. if you're feeling particularly like putting in the work, you'll wrap your lips around his tip just before he's about to cum, feeling it twitch against your tongue as your boyfriend empties himself in your mouth.

it's two in the afternoon when you find yourself giving seungmin his fourth titjob of the week. he's got you in front of him while he's seated on the couch, legs spread as his hard length stays encompassed between your chest which rubs itself up and down. despite being a mess of spit and precum, you're mesmerised by the way your boyfriend's aching red tip catches between your boobs, biting your lip before sneaking a glance up at his fucked out face. it's seldom you see him so desperate, but recently you've been blessed with the sounds of his airy moans more often, realising that this activity may have become his favourite way of getting off. "doing so good, puppy." you coo, not missing the way he twitches between your breasts at your words. his last straw is when you wrap your lips around his tip and suck slightly, a barely audible warning escaping him as he creams onto your awaiting tongue.

⥽ … YANG JEONGIN:

link one.

jeongin is well-known for having large hands and slender fingers, his long digits always being the main reason behind your fascination with his body. you like the way they wrap around your waist or back, making you feel protected whenever your boyfriend is near you, especially when you're both out and you can feel other men staring at you. it reminds you you're his. it's in the way that they're so much bigger than yours too, easily being able to take both your hands in only one of them. something about it turns you on to no end, which is why you often find yourself with your hands pinned behind your back in one of jeongin's, a sinister smirk etched across his beautiful face as he fucks deep into you. he'll mock you for your little obsession, the way his voice is laced with condescension leaving you pooling wet around him which only makes him tsk and ram into you even harder. deep down though, you know he adores the way you're so easily pliant for him.

"innie! innie, please." you choke out into the pillow that's currently got your face stuffed in it thanks to your boyfriend, hearing him sneer at the way you try and move around under his hold. jeongin has both your arms gripped in just one of his hands behind your figure which is laying on your stomach, his movements quick yet deep with the way he rolls his hips to drive his cock into you. "like my hands, sweetheart? like them so much that you're dripping ever since i pinned them behind you, huh?" he mocks you, grunting as he speeds up his thrusts. the way he's drilling into you makes you see stars, and the dirty sound of skin slapping being the only thing resonating throughout the room besides your moans is all is takes for you to cum around him soon enough. you reach your peak with a wail of jeongin's name on your lips, clenching when you feel his fingers squeeze in below your body to flick at your swollen clit. "don't run, take it." jeongin growls, pushing your head into your sheets once more as you drool all over the comforter.

link two.

you're not sure when it started, but recently, having sex in the shower has become a reccuring occasion for you and jeongin. maybe it's the fact that you're both busy throughout the day and it saves time to engage and clean up together under running water simultaneously, or maybe it's because jeongin is just always looking to fuck you with his high sex drive, but it's definitely become a game changer for your relationship. you know he likes the way your tits are lathered with soap, bouncing from the frequency of his thrusts inside you as you lean a hand against the wall to support yourself. jeongin also always makes sure to steady his grip on you before fucking up into you under the warm stream coming out of your showerhead, groaning into your wet ear as he pulls you back by his large palm splayed across your hip. he likes the way your moans echo off the walls in the small bathroom you both share, always making sure he's giving it to you good regardless of where you both may be.

the splatter of water cascading down your bodies drags you out of your thoughts, a low noise rumbling from the back of your throat as you feel the heavy drag of your boyfriend's cock pushing in and out of you. he's got you arching your back, pulling you back on him every now and then in a way that makes his cockhead press up against that spot inside you deliciously. if you were in a hurry to go somewhere, you know you surely would've been late with the way you keep cumming and asking him for more, unable to satiate the spiking desire that's been burning through you since this morning when jeongin opened the door and asked if he could join you in rinsing off. "fuck, angel. not gonna last long." jeongin swallows, mouthing at your shoulder as you let your head fall back against him. "don't care. cum in me. cum inside, baby. please." you keen at a specifically harsh thrust, mewling when jeongin's thumb finds your engorged nub, rubbing it in quick circles to get you there at the same time. a scream rips out of you as the coil in your stomach eventually snaps, and you shudder as jeongin's seed spills warm inside you.

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adumbratrapedme · 1 month ago

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“Caught, Almost!”

Pairing: kenma x reader

Synopsis: you and kenma. needy. school grounds. almost caught. ok? ok.

Warnings: “public�� sex, smut, +18, p in v, etc. idk im too lazy to properly tag this uhhh, is my first time writing smut cuz i usually get too nervous while writting it ngl (i take constructive criticism, sooo point out what i could do better. thank you!). nyan!

╭⋅Tbh not even you know how you guys enfed like this huh ╭⋅You where supossed to JUST GO AND FIND YOUR BOYFRIEND that was skipping practice (again) ╭⋅He was tired you know?? You guys just finished exam season and! He got a new game! Common!! Let my man rest!! ╭⋅Anyways, you didn’t care, sorry ken ken, disadvantages of having a manager gf unu ╭⋅So, tbh i would never take kenken as someone that has public sex? But i mean lets try to understand him ok? A full exam week, no gf, no kisses and the only opportunities you had to get together he got cockblocked! Wether it was his or you family ╭⋅When you finally find him sitting in his desk playing with the psp you try to pull him away but he does not comply! ╭⋅Until well… you get irritated and start saying that you’d do anything he wants!! ╭⋅So here we go :3

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Kenma~!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty halls as you searched for your elusive boyfriend. Frustration bubbled inside you, and just as you were about to give up, a familiar mop of pudding-colored hair caught your eye through the window of an empty classroom. “UGH! THERE YOU ARE!!” you huffed, storming into the room, Kenma flinched at your sudden outburst, his eyes still glued to his handheld console. "You're still looking for me? So... practice isn't over yet? Great..." he muttered under his breath, clearly bothered by the situation.

"Honeyyyy~" you groaned dramatically as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. He didn't budge, his fingers tapping away at the buttons, “keEeeEn~” you whined, playfully trying to push him out of the chair.

"Come on! Kuroo is going to kill me if I don't bring you back!"

Still no reaction.

You leaned in closer, pressing your cheek against his. "Do you really want your beaaauuutiful girlfriend to fail at her manager duties, huh?"

Kenma finally sighed, his gaze never leaving the screen. "

...If it means

you'll leave me alone, then... sure."

"UGH! Kenmaaaa!" you pouted, slumping dramatically in front of him.

Dropping to your knees and hugging his legs you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"

His fingers faltered for a second.

"You're so annoying.." he muttered, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After what felt like hours (okay, maybe just ten minutes) of begging and pressing Kenma to go to practice, you finally hit your limit. Refusing to stand from your spot on the floor, you crossed your arms and gave him your best fake teary eyes, complete with a trembling pout.

“Fine then… let them fire me from my manager position,” you huffed dramatically. Kenma finally glanced down at you, his expression flat. “Y/N… this isn’t a job. They won’t fire you.”

But then — ngh! — his gaze lingered. The sight of you sitting on the floor, all pouty and vulnerable? That triggered something in his brain.

Neurons? Activated.

Kenma? Horny

Y/n? Annoyed

Crops? Watered.

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he averted his gaze, but his voice softened. “But… maybe there’s something we can do… if you really want me to go back to practice.” Your eyes lit up. “YAS! I knew it!” You leapt from the floor, wrapping your arms around him in excitement. “Come on, tell me! I’ll do anything you want!”

Kenma blinked, momentarily stunned by your enthusiasm, before a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well… you know how we haven’t been able to spend much time together lately?” You nodded eagerly, not missing the way his voice dipped into a quieter tone.

“And how every time we try to be alone… someone interrupts us?” he added, glancing at you briefly before looking away again, the blush deepening.

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, heart thumping in anticipation. Kenma cleared his throat. “Well… maybe we can do it now.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait… here?” “The school’s practically empty,” he murmured, setting his PSP down on the desk. “Only a few clubs and… maybe a janitor. But if we’re careful…”

He finally looked back at you, and the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“You serious?” you whispered.

Kenma leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Only if you want to.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

So... in the end, you gave in—how could you possibly resist that pudding-colored mop of hair? And now, here you are, in this exact moment.

You're leaning over his desk, your hands pressing against the surface.

Honestly, you feel a little exposed. Your boyfriend's behind you, and you can feel his gaze, while all you can see is what's right in front of you. You feel his cold hand lift your skirt, the breeze of his breath hitting your core, making you shiver just a little..

"just look at this, huh kitten? i barely even told you what i wanted and you are this wet already?” he said as he pulled down at your underwear, “ so eager to please me huh?” He said leaning into you and giving your ear a few kitten licks.

"P-Please, Kenma," you whispered, a hint of shame in your voice. Doing this in school? It felt so forbidden, so sinful. But deep down, you couldn't deny it — you'd been waiting for this moment just as much as he had.

To be honest, Kenma had wanted to tease you a little longer, but even he couldn't hold back. After the past week of restraint, he was too pent up to keep it inside any longer.

"So whiny..." he murmured while placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, while one of his hands ran down your shirt until he reached your breasts, the way he squeezed them was very rough, but it was the right one for that moment, his hand was massaging them and the other was busy unbuckling his belt.

"I'm sorry darling..." he whispered into your ear while holding his member with one hand and rubbing it against your entrance earning a soft moan from you "you know that normally I would go slowly but... I don't think there's enough time for that right now"

You nodded in agreement, eager to feel him inside you, you hadn't realized how much you needed this, how much you missed his hands, his kisses and his caresses...

Just when you were lost in your thoughts a sudden pressure at your entrance made you yelp, Kenma's hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you closer. His breathing was uneven, his gaze heavy with desire as he leaned in.

"Ahh... Y/N..." His voice came out low and hoarse, roughened by the tension building between you. He pushed in deeper, his movements purposeful, each one making you gasp as your body adjusted to him. "You're so tight... nghh..." The way he muttered it, half a groan and half a breathless confession, made your stomach flutter.

A whimper escaped you, soft and broken, your lower lip trembling as you tried to speak through the haze. "K-Kenma... it's so big, I-"

Before you could finish, he picked up his pace, each movement making you lose more control over your voice. You couldn't stop the sounds slipping from your lips, and just as quickly, he silenced you with a kiss - rough, needy, possessive. "I like you better when you just moan for me," he mumbled against your lips, his voice low and commanding.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, making you melt into his touch.

You could feel the tension in your body rising fast, and by the way Kenma gripped you, he could feel it too. The way you clenched around him made him groan softly, his head dropping to your shoulder as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving faint marks behind.

Normally, he would slow down - tease you, drag things out until you were begging for more. But this time, he couldn't hold back. His own release was close, and it showed in the way his thrusts grew more erratic, rocking the desk beneath you as he pushed deeper.

"Fuck... baby..." His voice was husky, strained, filled with urgency as he buried himself in you. "I'm really close..."

You couldn't hold back your own moans any longer. The intensity of his movements, the weight of his body against your back, the sound of his voice — it was all too much. You didn't care if anyone could hear, if anyone walked by. All that mattered was him.

Kenma's fingers tightened their grip on your hips, his forehead pressed to yours as he pushed you both toward the edge. His heart was racing, his breath ragged in your ear, and you could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter.

"Kenma... please." you whimpered, your voice trembling as you clung to him, your body shaking from the overwhelming sensation.

He groaned softly at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his movements never faltering. He could feel how close you were — he always knew your body better than you did.

And though his usual control would have him drawing things out, this time he couldn't stop. His release was so close, right there, and he didn't want to hold back.

Twenty minutes in, and he already had you falling apart twice. But still, he kept going, chasing that final high — for both of you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Kenma's forehead rested against your back, his breath hot and uneven as you both tried to steady yourselves.

His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns under your skirt, a stark contrast to the urgency from moments before. There was a softness in his gaze now, something tender beneath the layers of intensity that still lingered in the air between you.

"Are you okay?" he murmured quietly, his voice softer, more familiar. The concern in his tone made your heart ache in the best way, and you nodded, lips curling into a faint smile.

"I'm okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly from the aftershocks, your body now fully resting in the desk in a weak attempt of catching your breath.

Kenma's lips twitched into a small smile at your answer. He wasn't always great with words, but his actions said enough. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you before before turning you around, facing each other, his forehead brushing yours in a quiet moment of calm.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled only with the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint creak of the desk beneath you. His thumbs rubbed lazy circles over your skin, grounding both of you as you melted into each other. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. It wasn't like him to ask, but there was something different in the way he looked at you now — more vulnerable, more open.

You shook your head, cupping his face gently. "No... it was perfect," you said softly, and you meant it.

Kenma sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into your touch.

His lips pressed a lingering kiss to your palm before he pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around you like he couldn't bear to let go just yet. "You make me feel things I never thought l'd want," he admitted quietly, his voice almost shy. "I've never... wanted someone like this before."

The honesty in his words made your chest tighten, and you couldn't help but smile as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered against his skin. "You don't have to be afraid of wanting me."

Kenma's arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His heart was pounding against yours, steady and strong.

What you both thought would be a peaceful moment didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped. For a brief second, you let yourselves forget that you were still on school grounds, thinking you could steal a quiet moment together. But reality quickly came crashing back in the form of a loud, obnoxious voice that both of you knew all too well.

"KENMAAAAAA... Y/N!" Kuroo’s voice echoed through the hallways, sharp and unmistakable as he called out for you two. It was impossible to ignore. You exchanged a glance, both of you groaning internally.

"Come on, Y/N, I trusted you!" Kuroo’s voice whined from further down the hall, his footsteps growing louder as he approached.

"Shit," Kenma muttered, clearly irritated. He quickly pulled away from you, his eyes darting around in panic. "We should hurry," he added, his tone serious now.

Both of you scrambled to adjust yourselves. Kenma straightened his uniform with a quick tug at his collar, while you did the same at your skirt. You couldn’t help but glance at Kenma, biting your lip in a mix of amusement and slight concern.

"Do I have sex hair?" you asked, half joking but also genuinely curious, Kenma paused for a split second, giving you a once-over before shrugging. "Hmm... maybe just a little," he said nonchalantly, brushing his fingers through your hair to tame it.

"Great," you muttered, pushing your hair back into place as the sound of Kuroo’s voice drew closer. You had to think fast before he found you both in the hallway, and judging by the way Kenma was glancing nervously in the direction of the noise, he was already calculating your next move.

You both braced yourselves for what would surely be an uncomfortable encounter, wondering if this "moment of peace" was truly ever meant to be.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume smut #haikyuu kenma kozume #haikyuu!! kenma kozume #haikyuu kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu!! kenma kozume x reader #smut #minors dni #thought up by rin #kenma #kenma smut

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giveafike · 4 months ago

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kinda obsessed with the prompt of ben x fem tennis reader being together for a lil while and being the cutest couple , breaking up bc the distance hit them too hard after two straight months of different tournaments/locations, then seeing each other for the first time at a 1000 tournament, going out to dinner with the same group of people and end up going back to bens hotel room to clear the air and obvs end up in bed together realising they’re gonna have to get thru the distance cos they can’t be without each other now 😭

TLDR: tennisplayerfem!reader and ben break up bc you can't handle being away and then surprise, you can't handle being not together. Losers.

Word count + info: 10k. Am I mentally ill? This is supposed to be a blurb.. Dialogue (angst, texts, calls, conversation).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Breakup and kinda mean stuff said (nothing physical description wise). Otherwise, it's all good! (i think)

Azzie Notes ✚: SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD. AM I OKAY??? 10K?? ON A BLURB?? idrk what angst is fr chat lmk if i did that one fr idk....im a LOVER girl ok IDK HOW TO DO THIS SAD SHIT - in saying that, was part of my dialogue in this lwky..loosely based off of my ex...........maybe...

I fear I loved this prompt so bad and like...I love to yap..so...

Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike) - feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

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Shattered - B.T.S.

In the beginning, being with Ben is the kind of whirlwind you've only seen in movies, a connection that feels so natural, yet thrillingly unexpected. Well, in hindsight, that might've been a lie. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but instead, a slow, magnetic pull that drew you together, like the tension building in a long rally. You met on the circuit, both hungry, ambitious, and dedicated to your own success. But from the start, Ben had this way of getting past your disciplined, guarded exterior with that relentless charm of his.

He’s everywhere, it seems—posting highlights from your matches on his stories, sneaking your name into press conferences, tagging you in his silly “lazy Saturday” shots where your game is always playing in the background. He flirts shamelessly, flashing that grin across the court, his voice lifting over the crowd to make some cheeky comment that leaves you stifling laughter. Your friends see it before you do: Ben is crazy about you, and soon, so is everyone else.

He flirted shamelessly and relentlessly, everywhere and anywhere, often catching you off guard in ways that left you flustered despite your best efforts to stay cool and professional. With that, you started to look out for the way his eyes would find yours in a crowd while you sat in the stands during his matches or how he would nudge you at practice with that easy, casual touch like he’s done it a thousand times before; like you belong by his side.

Once, when he's asked in an interview if he’d dedicated his recent win to anyone, he grins and looks straight across the room, making everyone laugh. “There’s someone special right now, but no need to say names, she knows.”

It’s sweet, funny and more than a little bold. Later, when you called him out for it over one of your first late-night calls, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic, telling you with that stupid drawl of his, “What? Ain’t no point hidin’ it. The world knows who my lucky charm is.”

Soon, it was you reaching out for him, your hand slipping onto his arm, leaning against him during walkouts, letting your barriers fall. And every time he catches your eye, every time he manages to make you smile, he looks at you like he’s won the lottery. His heart stammers a little each time you shove him playfully or roll your eyes at his antics. Whether it was on the bench or during changeovers, Ben would rest his hand gently on your lower back, a touch that makes you feel, just for a moment, like you're the only two people in the world.

When the rare break in your schedules comes around, you steal hours together. You grab a coffee, turning a "quick run" into a day spent together and wander around a city you barely know, or stumble upon a hidden café with pastries too flowery for your tastes. He made everything feel easier, like no matter how intense life gets, you��ll always have that balance with him. Around Ben, you can be softer, and more vulnerable; he brings out a side of you that isn’t just about winning and competing but about laughing, sharing, and letting go.

People noticed the way you look at each other, the easy affection that passes between you, the more daring and intimate PDA, sharing kisses and lingering stares. Soon, fans were shipping you openly, posting photos of you courtside, or whispering to each other when you lean close and murmur something that makes him laugh. On tour, you’re one of those “it” couples, a little slice of joy in the relentless pace of your careers. And in those early days, you both believe that together, you can take on anything. In those early days, you believed you could take on anything together. You and Ben were partners, equals, and even in the midst of a gruelling season, there had always been time for him, always a reason to smile. It felt perfect, like a love story you had stumbled into but were both entirely committed to.

But that honeymoon phase comes crashing down real quick.

As seasons shift and tournaments stretch across continents, the cracks start to show. At first, it’s just a few hours difference, but then come the miles and oceans, and the texts dwindled, conversations cut short, replaced by more missed calls than made and vague apologies. You both had tried, in every way you knew how. But eventually, the memories weren’t enough to bridge the distance. You’d catch yourself staying up just to wait for his call after practice, only to fall asleep disappointed, staring at a dark screen. And every time you woke up to a hastily sent sorry, something came up text, it felt like another tiny fracture.

Ben wasn’t the only one caught up in the chaos of your schedules; you had your own demands, too. The strain went both ways. In an attempt to keep things alive, you’d push yourself to keep up with his time zone, adding another city to your Clock app, setting alarms accordingly to his lunch and dinner times, staying awake far too late, eyes heavy as you sat alone in your hotel room, scrolling through old photos just to feel closer to him. When the call finally did come, your voice was barely more than a whisper, tired and distant, and Ben couldn't bear the exhaustion in your tone, his heart aching as he hushed you to sleep, meaning neither of you would stay on long.

It all piled up slowly, almost imperceptibly, until the weight felt crushing. Conversations became one-sided, it’s like chasing the sun itself, moments of silence replacing the laughter that had once felt endless, and that spark, the one that made you feel unstoppable together, felt further away with every day that passed.

Then came the day of your match, a game that should have been easy, one you’d normally have breezed through. But you were dragging, exhaustion wrapping itself around your every heavy, drooping step, and somewhere in the depths of your mind, a bitter thought took root:

If only he cared.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, but still, the frustration boiled over. Would things have felt different if you weren’t so alone in this? If you didn’t have to wonder when, or if, he’d remember to call? If he scheduled calls to your time for once? If he could just postpone everything for 20, 20 measly minutes for you?

A ball zips right by you, snapping you back to reality.

Lying in your hotel room that night, you stared at the ceiling, replaying the best moments of your time together like an old movie reel. In those moments, it had felt perfect. You’d believed you could take on the world, side by side, partners in everything. But now, with miles and silence separating you, you wondered if those memories were all that was left of what you once had.

But even with that ache, even with the emptiness filling the room, one thing is clear as day: loving Ben, for all its messiness, for all the distance and loneliness, had never felt like a mistake but God, was it hard. You pondered on those same irritating thoughts that itched at you until your fingers found your phone and hit the FaceTime Call button. Part of you wanted him to not pick up, knowing that you had nothing kind or sweet to say, but a small part of you wanted to dish back what he deserved.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice tense, worn. His drawl feels distant like he’s talking to you from across an ocean.

“Hey.” You can feel the iciness in your voice, colder than you intended.

“Long day?” he asks, though his expression is already tense, wary.

“Yeah. Almost lost today,” you say flatly.

Ben’s gaze flicks down. “I saw the score,” he says, his voice cautious. “Guess it was a tough match, babe.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” you snap. “But maybe it’s hard to focus when I’m barely sleeping… or constantly waiting for a text that never comes.”

He blinks, his eyes narrowing. “So this is on me?” The familiar accent is a little rougher around the edges. “You’re losin’ matches ‘cause I’m not callin’ you enough? That’s what you’re sayin’?”

“Don’t play dumb, Ben. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about” You feel the bitterness twisting in your chest. ““You’re barely here, Ben. Half the time, I don’t even know if we’re still together or if we’re just two people sending pointless messages every few hours. Half the time, it feels like I’m talking to a ghost.”

He lets out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “You think it’s any easier for me? I’ve got my own stuff, my own schedule, darlin'. I’ve got my career to think about too, you know, this ain't just about you.”

Your jaw tightens. “Yeah, well, at least when I'm on the court, I don’t exactly have the luxury of tuning you out, Ben. I’m not the one who forgets to call after saying I would. I don’t have time for half-assed texts and waiting around for you to call when you feel like it.”

“Oh, don’t go there,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “You know what it’s like. The fans, the interviews, the time spent on court-”

“Yeah, I get it, Ben. But last week, you bailed on a call to go sign autographs. Priorities, right?”

He takes a deep breath, visibly holding back. “C’mon, babe, you don’t mean that.”

But you press on, unable to stop yourself. “You’re too busy with whatever ‘big thing’ you have going on, right? Maybe if you cared enough to focus on your game instead of your ‘commitments,’ you wouldn’t have dropped that finals match. Just maybe.”

He flinches, his expression turning dark. “Oh, that's low from you, Y/N. You really wanna go there?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, your voice unwavering.

He pauses, his face hardening. “If you were out here on the ATP tour, you’d understand how rough it really is. You wouldn't even get past a challenger. It ain’t the same league as the WTA.”

You laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Oh, don’t even start with that. Rougher than the WTA? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Maybe come and join WTA then, you wouldn't manage it out here either, Ben.”

He snaps, his voice cutting like a whip. “You know how much I’m fightin’ to make a name for myself out here. Just ‘cause you got a few more shiny titles doesn’t mean you get to talk down to me like this.”

The sting of his words hits like a slap. Your face flushes, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling up. “So, that’s it? Just because I’ve actually earned my success, I’m some kind of… what? Nag?”

“I didn’t say that,” he shot back, voice tight, his eyes narrowing as he looked away. “But maybe you’re doin’ too much. Bein’ all… dramatic, blamin’ me for stuff I got no control over.”

“Right, okay, so I’m being dramatic,” you scoff, your voice edged with sarcasm. “I’m the one asking for too much because I want something real, something you clearly can’t give.”

He laughs, bitter and raw. “Maybe you just want too damn much.”

You feel the tears prickling behind your eyes, but you clench your jaw, holding yourself together by sheer force of will. Your voice trembles as you speak, the words thick with a pain you can’t contain. “I just want you to care, Ben, or at least pretend to care and make it believable. I want you to care enough to be here when it matters. But you’re so wrapped up in yourself, you don’t even see it.”

His face hardens, his jaw set, but his eyes hold a flicker of something unspoken. “You think I don’t care? I’m out here pushin’ myself every day, for us, for this future we’re supposed to be building 'n shit. But it’s like no matter what I do, it ain’t enough for you.”

A sharp knock sounds from his end, followed by muffled voices. He glances away, then back at you, irritation flaring in his eyes. “Look, I gotta go. Dad’s waitin’ on me; he already gave me an extra ten minutes to talk.”

You feel your heart twist, an ache of disappointment settling in. “Oh, of course,” you mutter, your voice dripping with bitterness. “Go ahead. I’m sure your training’s way more important than anything I have to say.”

He turns back, his eyes blazing with frustration. “Maybe it is right now,” he spits. “Talkin’ to you like this, all it’s doin’ is makin’ things worse. We're not getting anywhere like this-”

The words cut deeper than you expect, and you can barely hold back the surge of anger and heartbreak choking you. “Fine. Go, then. At least one of us can prioritise something.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks away. “You’re bein’ unfair, 'n you know it.”

“Am I?” you whisper, your voice tight and choked. “Or am I just done waiting for you to show up?”

You stare at each other, an endless silence stretching between you, sharp and seething, words too heavy to be unsaid. Then, with a frustrated shake of his head, he mutters, “I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later. When you’re not actin’ like this.”

Before you could respond, he hung up, his face disappearing from your screen, leaving you alone with nothing but the cold light of your phone. Your hands shook as you stared at the blank screen, tears finally spilling over.

With trembling fingers, you took a breath, letting a cold, steely calm settle over you. You typed out a simple, blunt message, leaving no room for second-guessing, no room for soft words or explanations. Just the truth, as raw as you felt.

“We’re done. I can’t do this anymore, Ben. I’m sorry.”

Your thumb lingered for a second before hitting “send,” and as soon as the message went through, you blocked him on every platform, cutting off any way for him to respond, to apologise, to convince you otherwise.

But as you tossed your phone aside, a crack appeared in the calm you’d forced on yourself. The tears came suddenly, your breath hitching as a tidal wave of heartbreak surged through you. You buried your face in your hands, pressing your palms against your eyes as if you could somehow contain the emotions clawing their way to the surface. You tried to stay quiet, muffling the sound in the dark, but the weight was too much, every sob raw, grieving and heavy, pouring out the frustration, the loneliness, and the love you’d tried so hard to salvage.

By the time your tears subsided, you felt utterly drained, hollowed out in a way that made everything around you feel distant and surreal. The city lights flickered outside your window, the glow indifferent to the storm that had torn through you. And in that quiet, broken moment, with only the shadows as company, you lay there, letting the exhaustion seep through your bones until sleep claimed you.

When sleep finally came, it was restless, fractured. You tossed and turned, flashes of memories from better days with Ben haunting you, the sound of his laugh, the way he’d smile, gummy and wide, his nose scrunching with that easy confidence. You woke up more exhausted than when you’d closed your eyes, feeling like you hadn’t rested at all. But you forced yourself out of bed, pushing yourself through your pre-game routine, your emotions locked away, frozen under layers of determination.

As you walked onto the court, the crowd buzzed with excitement, but you barely registered it. You were a storm, calm on the surface but seething underneath. Every shot you took was hard and brutal, the ball slicing through the air with an intensity that made your opponent flinch, the impact echoing through the stadium. You played as if your life depended on it, your body moving with sharp, lethal precision.

Your serves were relentless, your groundstrokes vicious, each one faster, sharper, as if each shot were a way to expel the anger and hurt still simmering in your chest. The crowd murmured, noticing the shift in your energy, the way you were pushing yourself, almost recklessly. A couple of times, your shots zipped past your opponent’s hand, barely missing, almost daring her to try and reach for it - "try me". You were untouchable, unstoppable, playing like you had something to prove.

But there was no smile, no hint of joy in your movements, solely mechanical. The usual lightness in your footwork was gone, replaced by a cold, ruthless efficiency. You’d already decided: this match was yours. You weren’t here to give an inch, weren’t here to let any lingering emotions cloud your focus. The crowd might have wanted excitement, but you were giving them precision, a display of control and fury that left no room for doubt.

You won, of course. Your opponent barely had a chance. But as you walked off the court, sweat trickling down your brow, fists clenched, you felt no thrill in the victory. Just the dull ache that lingered, a hollow space where your lightness, your smile, used to be. The heat of the court only made your head throb. The applause faded into background noise as you strode away, head high, shoulders tense. You’d won, but it felt like a hollow victory. You had no one to text after your game, anyone to call you baby - you had done it to yourself, were you really that desperate for a man to validate you? You were sick of feeling this way, sick of the exhaustion, the anger, the loneliness that clung to you even after everything you’d given today. At least, for now, you’d proven something, to yourself, to him, even if he’d never know, or care.

In the month that followed, you threw yourself harshly into your schedule, determined to erase any trace of him from your routine, your heart. Matches, training, travel, interviews, photoshoots, more matches, each day bled into the next, filled with an almost mechanical sense of purpose. If you weren’t on the court, you were working out, perfecting your strokes, spending hours on serves and footwork. Anything to exhaust yourself to stop the thoughts from lingering too long. Your routine was relentless, your focus razor-sharp.

But even in this frenzy, despite it all, reminders of him still slipped through. You’d scroll through social media, and every so often, an ATP post would pop up: Ben at a tournament, Ben celebrating a point, Ben grinning with that easy charm that used to make your heart ache. He looked different now. His curls were longer, spilling out from over his sweaty headband, and his frame had hardened, leaner, with muscle that seemed to outline his strength in sharper lines. His chubby cheeks had slimmed down into something harder, replaced by the quiet confidence of someone who’d grown, adapted, maybe even suffered a little.

And you could almost feel it, the quaking, gaping pain of missing him, but you’d swallow it back down, pull yourself together, and look away.

Your own press conferences became something else entirely. You were more composed, a bit sharper with your words, confident in a way you hadn’t been before. Where you used to smile shyly or laugh softly, now you leaned in with humour, a hint of flirtation, your charm more self-assured. You handled reporters’ questions deftly, especially the ones that tried to pry about Ben. The same questions came up over and over:

“So, do you still keep in touch with Ben?”

Each time, you’d respond with a practised, cool smile. “Right now, I’ve got all the support I need from my team and the people I have with me.” You’d turn the conversation to your work, your skill, and your grind on the court, dismissing the topic with subtle elegance, always steering it back to your goals, your game, and your people.

Yet, away from the cameras, the facade cracked, if only slightly. Sometimes, after a long match or a particularly brutal day of training, you’d find yourself scrolling through your old photos or feeling tears prickling your eyes, this messy situation taking a bigger toll than you would like to admit.

In his hotel room, Ben watched your interviews alone, a faint crease between his brows. There you were, in all your brilliance, flashing a confident smile at the camera, handling the press with a wit and boldness that felt both familiar and strange. He could see the way you’d grown, the way you’d steeled yourself, and it stirred something in him, a pang he couldn’t ignore. It was like watching someone he knew intimately and yet… not at all. The way you answered questions about him, and your subtle redirection to your career and team, it stung. Maybe it was petty, but he missed the way you used to talk about him with such pride, with that lovestruck glow. He loved seeing how shy you would get at the sheer mention of his name. Your hair was different, your skin glowing, you had more confidence, even if it came off a bit cocky but he still felt like you were his, just as much as he was yours. Ben didn’t know how to reach out, didn’t know what he’d even say. There was a distance now, both physical and emotional, that seemed impossible to bridge. He’d scroll through his own phone sometimes, finding old messages, ones before distance got the better of you both, photos of the two of you, half-written scripts in his Notes app he couldn’t bring himself to deliver. If he flew out tonight to you, what would he even do after? He’d think of calling you, of reaching out somehow, but the memory of your last fight, the bitterness in your voice, the way you’d shut him out… it held him back.

One evening, as you sat alone in the players' lounge, your forehead pressed against the back of the sofa, you felt that familiar ache pulse through you, the one that came every time you thought of him. It was then that Coco came by, her familiar, steady presence filling the room as she settled down across from you, cross-legged on the seat in front of you. Over the past year, it was Ben that introduced you but, you and Coco had grown even closer, bound not just by shared victories and losses but by the pressures only someone like her could truly understand.

Coco tilted her head, her gaze warm but unwavering. “Alright,” she said, cutting through the silence. “What’s really going on? Are you… over him?”

You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I wish I could say yes,” you murmured. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to move on, focus on the game, on everything else, but… he’s still everywhere. Even when I’m doing well, even when I’m focused, it’s like… something’s missing.” Your voice dropped to barely a whisper. “It’s like I can’t fully shake him.”

Coco nodded, her expression both sympathetic and knowing. “I get it. You two had something real, something intense. But maybe this time apart is what you both need. I mean, look at you. You’re stronger now, on and off the court. Maybe that’s part of this whole journey, you know?”

You managed a faint smile, though your heart still felt heavy. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. It just… doesn’t always feel like enough.”

She reached out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me. If he’s the right guy, he’ll figure it out, too. Until then? Focus on your game. Focus on you.”

Her words stayed with you, offering a small but steady comfort in the days that followed. You have been throwing yourself into training, pouring everything into the sport, trying to find solace in each match and each moment of growth. Somewhere out there, he was doing the same, and maybe, just maybe, this was what was best.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t completely smother the small spark of hope, that someday, somehow, your paths might cross again.

It was similar in the men’s locker room, Ben slumped forward on the bench, his elbows propped on his knees as he stared blankly at the floor, holding an uncapped bottle of water. Frances Tiafoe, who’d been eyeing him from across the room, exchanged a knowing glance with Taylor Fritz before making his way over.

“Alright, bro, spill it,” Frances said, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he leaned in. “You’ve been lookin’ like you’re living in some sad dog for weeks.”

Ben gave him a sidelong glance. “There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

Taylor rolled his eyes as he joined them, settling down on the other side of Ben. “Come on, man. We’re not blind. Ever since she blocked you, you’ve been… different.”

Ben scoffed, looking away, his voice low. “She didn’t just block me, man. She… she threw down, real hard. Said some things I thought she’d never say.”

Frances let out a low whistle. “Was that rough, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, rubbing a hand over his face, his frustration mingling with regret. “It all just blew up. We were on a call, talkin’ like usual, and suddenly… it was like everything we hadn’t said just came out. She starts throwin’ things at me about how I’m not there, like… like I don’t care enough or not workin' hard enough. And it pissed me off, you know? I work just as hard, and it’s not like I’m sittin’ around, right?”

Taylor nodded, leaning back against the lockers. “So, what’d you do?”

Ben shrugged, his expression pained. “I pushed back, told her she couldn’t keep actin’ like she’s the only one workin’ for this. Told her ATP is just as tough, maybe even more competitive. Didn’t mean it that way, but she took it wrong. She thought I was tryin’ to downplay her game.”

Frances shook his head, giving Ben a sympathetic look. “Man, she must’ve felt hurt.”

“Yeah,” Ben muttered, a bitter laugh escaping him. “And next thing I know, I get this text. ‘This isn’t workin', we’re done.’ Blocked me on everything. Cold as ice, man. It’s like she flipped a switch, just… shut me out completely, as easy as shuttin' a door.”

Frances gave him a gentle nudge. “You still care about her?”

Ben’s gaze softened, a faint smile breaking through his frustration. “Yeah, man. She’s… she’s my girl. Even if she’s not my girl right now, you know?”

Taylor chuckled, nodding. “So, what’re you gonna do about it? Sit around here moping, or actually make a move?”

Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I supposed to do? She’s made it pretty clear she’s done with me.”

Frances grinned, crossing his arms. “Bro, just ‘cause she blocked you and sent a text after you called her game easy, doesn’t mean it’s over. She’s mad, yeah, but she’s probably missin’ you just as much. You just gotta show her you’re willin’ to do what it takes.”

Taylor nodded in agreement, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “And it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture, man. Sometimes, it’s the small things. Something to let her know you’re still thinkin’ of her, still care. You know where we're at next, right?”

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “And do what? Just show up at her hotel room? She’s liable to call cops on my ass for that shit, bro.”

Frances laughed, shrugging. “So what? At least she’ll know you tried! Don't go doin' that though. Look, I’ve been with my girl for years now, and sometimes, you gotta be willing to look like a fool to show her you care.”

Ben leaned back, their words sinking in. He could still feel the sting of the things she’d said, the accusations she’d thrown at him like he didn’t care, didn’t work just as hard. But he couldn’t deny that he’d made mistakes, too. He’d let his pride get in the way, said things he regretted, and let the frustration of it all get the better of him.

Frances nudged him again, his grin widening. “Think about it, man. You got two choices: sit here, feeling sorry for yourself until she finds some other guy, or actually do something about it and get her back, even if that means standing in the rain with a fuckin' speaker.”

Ben finally cracked a smile, looking between his friends. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

“Hey, maybe,” Taylor said with a shrug. “But at least we got girlfriends. And you? You got a chance to get yours back. Just gotta decide if she’s worth it.”

Ben sat there, mulling over their words as a new determination started to burn within him. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, and maybe there was a lot he’d have to figure out. But if there was even a chance to fix things, to bridge that gap that felt so wide, he wasn’t about to let his pride hold him back.

As he left the locker room that night, he felt a resolve solidify within him. He’d find a way to reach out, to let her know that no matter how far apart they were, she was still the one he wanted. Because when it came down to it, she was worth every bit of the fight.

A week went by before a 1000 game flew in, and both ATP and WTA were present if not, nearby for the games. You couldn't care less what was at stake, anything was a win if it kept you occupied. The courts were almost empty, shadows lengthening as the sun beamed high above. You bounced the ball steadily, the rhythm calm, your focus laser-sharp. The only sounds were the muted thud of your shoes on the court, and your breath falling into sync with the beat of your earbuds. Nothing but you, the court, and the quiet.

But then, that voice broke through.

"Aw, c'mon, man!" A laugh, deep and full of that unmistakable Southern drawl. Your grip faltered, the ball hovering mid-toss. That laugh, it was a sound you hadn’t let yourself think about for months, one that held too much of him.

Ben.

Your pulse jolted, the memories flooding back, warmth and bitterness tangled in the knots of your chest. You gritted your teeth, tossing the ball high before slamming it against the court, the crack of impact sharp in the quiet. It almost felt satisfying, like you could obliterate the tension he brought, shatter it with sheer force.

Almost.

You readied another serve, the ball bouncing harder than necessary as you forced yourself not to look. But you could feel his gaze, that familiar weight of his eyes lingering on you. The pull was magnetic, almost maddening, and despite every ounce of resolve you’d built up, your gaze betrayed you, slipping over to catch a glimpse of him.

Ben, laughing with Taylor, curls tousled longer than before, his hoodie slung carelessly over those familiar, ridiculous short shorts. The same hoodie you'd worn too many times to count, drowning in its warmth during late-night snack runs and lazy Sundays. The sight tugged painfully, a cruel reminder of the little things you’d pushed down, tried to forget.

He caught you looking, and his laughter faded, his gaze holding yours for just a second too long. You gripped the ball tighter, the ache settling heavy, and forced yourself to turn away, channelling the flurry of memories into another sharp serve, a fierce crack reverberating across the court. You didn’t look back again.

Hours later, your body was tired, your mind a bit clearer. You were scrolling through your phone in the lounge, zoning out, when Coco dropped down beside you with that familiar, mischievous grin.

"Hey, you!" She nudged you, hands on her hips.

You eyed her warily. "What’s up, Coco? Awfully perky for...5:30p.m."

“We’re having dinner tonight. Big group. Wanna come?” Her tone was casual, a little too casual.

Your guard went up immediately as you dropped your phone to your lap. “Who’s ‘we all’?”

Coco shrugged, twirling a loose curl around her finger. “Me, Frances, Arthur… maybe another WTA girl or two. Just a fun little dinner. Nothing formal.”

You narrowed your eyes, reading the glint of mischief in hers. "Coco, don’t mess with me. He's not gonna be there, right?"

She tilted her head, pretending to look innocent, but the sly smile gave her away. "Well… he might show up, but that's on his own accord. I didn't mention anything to Ben and it’s not like anyone’s setting anything up! It’s just dinner."

Your stomach twisted, a sigh slipping from your lips as you looked away. “I don’t think so. Not after… everything.” Your voice softened the weight of old arguments and unsaid things hanging between the words.

Coco’s face softened, her hand finding your shoulder. “Look, I’m not saying you have to sit next to him or anything. It’s a big table. You can stay on the opposite end and ignore him if that’s what you need. But everyone misses you, it’s been ages since we all got together. We all need to see your pretty face off the court too, ya know?”

You hesitated, rolling your eyes, the ache of missing them settling somewhere deep, the sense of family you hadn’t felt in months tugging at you. After a long pause, you finally nodded, rolling your shoulders back as if bracing for a match. “Fine. But I’m serious, Coco, no funny business. If he starts anything, I’m out.”

Coco grinned, throwing her arm around you. “Girl, trust me. If anything, you’ll be giving him the funny looks. Just friends, no drama. Now, let’s go get you out of those sweats.”

Meanwhile, in the locker room across the court, Ben was doing his best to act indifferent as Frances nudged him for the third time.

"C'mon, man!" Frances said, leaning against the lockers with a knowing grin. "So you are coming to this dinner tonight, right? Don't make me beg again, I'll start singing.”

Ben tried to play it cool, leaning back with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, man. You really think it’s a good idea?”

Frances rolled his eyes. “Look, you’ve been moping for months. She’s not gonna make a scene in public, and especially not with all of us, and who knows? Maybe she’ll talk to you, be all civil. It’s worth a shot.”

Ben let out a huff, rubbing the back of his neck. “Civil? You remember the last time we spoke, right? She has me blocked on everything.”

Taylor, stretching nearby, smirked and chimed in. “Man, you got nothin’ to lose. At the very least, you’ll see her. I saw how you were after you caught a glimpse of her training earlier. Besides, Frances and Coco will keep her from killin’ you.”

“Kay, thanks,” Ben muttered, though a flicker of hope sparked under the sarcasm. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t shake the longing to see her again, to maybe fix even a sliver of what had been broken.

Taylor nudged him, grinning. “Hey, listen, if I wasn’t taking Morgan out tonight, I’d be there just for moral support. But hey, maybe next time it’ll be a double date. Me, you, Morgan and your soon-to-be girlfriend, just like old times.”

Ben shook his head, the thought both terrifying and oddly thrilling. “You’re jokin’, right? She’d probably throw her drink at me before she’d sit through a double date.”

“Only if you act like an idiot,” Frances pointed out, laughing. “Just be yourself, man. You can handle the heat on the court, you can handle this. And maybe tonight’ll be the thing that finally breaks the ice.”

Ben sighed, running a hand over his face before finally surrendering. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll go. But Frances, don’t expect me to be all… chatty.”

Frances clapped him on the back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, you say that now. But I know how you get around her, man. Just don’t chicken out. Remember, we got your back.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile nervously, feeling a strange mix of dread and anticipation tighten in his chest. He wasn’t sure if this dinner would be a chance at redemption or just a painful reminder of how far they’d drifted, but one thing was clear, he was tired of hiding from whatever was left between them.

You walk into the restaurant and let Coco lead you to a long table, feeling an odd mix of nerves and determination fluttering in your stomach. Your outfit is cute but simple, just a sweater and leggings; just enough effort to feel put together without trying too hard. You take a seat between Coco and Arthur Fils, with Frances across from you. There’s an empty chair across from Arthur, and for some reason, that empty space makes your heart beat a little faster, feeling torn between wanting and avoiding Ben there.

As everyone settles in, you catch Coco’s eye and mutter, “Please tell me he’s not actually coming.” She just shrugs with an easy smile.

Moments later, as the group banters along, about to order drinks, Ben strolls in, catching you entirely off-guard. He’s slightly out of breath, apologising to the group with that familiar grin, explaining he’s late because he’d just finished showering after practice. You can’t help it, you nudge Coco under the table, whispering through gritted teeth, a frustrated, “Great.”

Coco just gives him a casual greeting, and you force yourself to turn back to the table, focusing your attention on ordering a glass of wine, pretending not to notice him as he takes that empty seat across from Arthur, just barely within your view, diagonally. But as he sits down, you feel his eyes on you, and for a brief moment, you glance up and catch him staring, his face almost dazed.

You’re caught off-guard by the look in his eyes. His breath seems to hitch, his big brown eyes wide and you can see a faint blush creeping up his neck as he stares at you, almost like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. There’s a softness in his expression that you weren’t prepared for, a kind of awe that makes your stomach twist with memories and longing. But just as quickly, you look away, turning your attention to your wine as Frances elbows Ben with a teasing hiss, “Be normal, man.”

Throughout the night, you manage to keep to yourself, mostly talking to the other WTA players or Arthur whenever he cracks a joke. You keep Ben at the edge of your vision, resolute in ignoring the way his gaze keeps drifting back to you.

Every once in a while, Ben attempts to draw you into the conversation, maybe a lighthearted comment or a direct question, but each time, you meet his gaze with a steely look, making it clear with just one glance that you’re not interested. When he tries again, you let your eyes meet his for a moment, long enough to show him you’re serious before turning away, cutting off his effort entirely, almost to say "not interested". Across the table, Frances raises his brows, murmuring with a barely hidden smirk, “Damn, she is good at this,” as Ben slouches slightly, clearly trying not to look embarrassed.

As dinner winds down, the plates are cleared away, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment alone. Inside, you take a deep breath, facing yourself in the mirror. You’d been bracing yourself for tonight, but nothing quite prepared you for how it would feel to see him sitting right there, looking at you with those big sweet brown eyes and a pout, filled with that same soft pleading that used to make you melt.

But tonight, all it did was remind you of those late nights waiting by your phone, checking it over and over for messages that came slower and slower until they just…stopped. It reminds you of the countless hours wondering if you mattered as much as you thought you did, replaying his empty promises and half-hearted reassurances that seemed to fade with each passing day. He couldn't expect you to take him back with a pout and some half-assed joke. But damn, was it a good attempt, he knew how to make you crumble, even if it wasn't his sole intention.

You force yourself to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you look in the bathroom mirror examining yourself with a sigh, applying a bit of lip balm with fingers that tremble just slightly. Anything to distract yourself, to remind yourself that you’re strong enough to face this without breaking, reminding yourself to keep that mask on. You straighten your posture, determined to push all those memories back down where they belong, buried.

But just as you step out of the bathroom, Ben is standing right there, leaning against the wall as if he’d been waiting for you. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours, and he opens his mouth, his voice just a whisper. “Can we…talk? Just the two of us?”

The look he gives you, hopeful, no, desperate, stirs something deep inside you, and you clench your jaw, wanting to say no, wanting to walk away without a second thought. But as much as you’d like to ignore it, part of you still aches for some kind of closure, maybe even just one honest conversation.

With a reluctant sigh, you nod. “Fine. Outside.”

As you head out the restaurant’s door, you quickly fire off a text to Coco:

me n Ben talking outside. brb.

You stuff your phone back into your bag, clutching it tightly to your shoulder as you step into the cool night air. Wrapping your arms under your chest, you try to keep yourself shielded from more than just the chilling breeze.

Ben falls into step beside you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. There’s a moment of silence as you both find your footing, the quiet thick with everything that’s been left unsaid. You glance sideways, catching him opening his mouth like he’s about to say something, only to close it, his shoulders shifting awkwardly.

“So… how’s the tournament going for you?” he starts, his tone casual, a little too casual.

You blink, trying not to roll your eyes, feeling the irritation growing. Really? But you bite back and just sternly say, “Ben.”

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing up at the streetlights overhead. “Sorry, yeah, that was- uh, okay.” He lets out a breath and shuffles closer, his voice almost a murmur. “I just… I wanna make this right. Another chance- Just thought maybe… you know, talkin’ would be easier if…”

“Ben, stop.” You sigh, tightening your grip on your bag strap. “Stop being weird. Just… just say what you have to say, and let’s get this over with. Let's not make this longer than it needs to be, I've got shit to do tomorrow.”

He glances at you, brows knitting together. For a second, he looks almost frustrated, like he’s holding back something sharper, something rougher. But he lets it pass, letting out a long, resigned breath. “Fine. I’ll just ask one thing.”

You arch an eyebrow, scepticism thick in your voice. “One question. Shoot.”

His voice comes out softer, edged with a hesitant curiosity as if he knows it’s a stupid question but can’t help but ask. “What hotel you stayin’ at?”

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “The Merrion.”

His eyes widen slightly, a small, stupid smile breaking on his face. “No way… me too.”

You sigh, looking up at the night sky, feeling the inevitability of whatever this night is becoming. Of course, he’s at the same hotel. Only Ben could make the universe align like this. And only Ben would think of a stupid question like that. He shifts his weight, stepping closer, his gaze steady.

“Look,” he starts, “it’s just a short walk back, twenty minutes or so. Just… give me that time. Just enough to walk back. Let me talk. And then you can go to your room and go to bed. How 'bout it?”

There’s a hopeful edge in his voice that you can’t ignore, and for a moment, your resolve falters. It’s ridiculous, this is exactly the sort of thing he would come up with, some half-baked plan to get you to keep listening, to keep him around just a little longer. You want to roll your eyes, to brush him off, but something about the way he’s looking at you, those earnest, brown eyes so damn full of longing, makes you sigh.

“Fine,” you mutter. “But if you get weird again, I’m out. No small talk, you know how much I hate it.”

A small grin creeps onto his face, and he falls into step beside you, a little closer than necessary, his arm brushing against yours as you start down the quiet street. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, just walks alongside you, letting the silence settle around you both. But then, in that familiar southern drawl, his voice comes softer.

“Y’know, I've been thinkin’ ‘bout us a lot… probably more than I should.”

You keep your eyes on the sidewalk ahead, willing yourself to stay unmoved. “And?”

He swallows, his gaze tracing your profile, softening with each word. “I messed up,” he admits. “I know I did. I shoulda… been there more, answered more, I dunno. Shoulda been better at handlin’ it.”

You nod slightly, keeping your face blank. “Mhm, you should've.”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his expression, but he doesn’t let it throw him off. “You think I didn’t feel it too? That whole time, it felt like- hell, like I was losin’ you, like somethin’ was slippin’ right outta my hands, and I couldn’t do nothin’ to stop it.”

You feel the tension in your shoulders loosen just a fraction, though you keep your arms folded as a kind of armour. His words settle into the silence, raw and rough, and you can feel him glancing over, waiting for some kind of response. But you keep your gaze forward, biting back the little stirrings of emotion that are beginning to creep in.

He keeps talking, voice low and steady, drawing you in without giving you a chance to look away. “I’m not tryin’ to make excuses, alright? I know I coulda tried harder. But it’s like… the more I tried, the harder it got. The distance, the time zones, the schedules… it all just made me feel like I couldn’t keep up. And I just didn't know how to juggle it and that's my fault.”

You shake your head slightly, finally glancing over at him, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of your mouth. “So this is your way of apologising?”

He laughs, a little sheepish. “Guess I’m not real good at it, huh?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a familiar, easy gesture that makes your arms slowly loosen. His hand brushes your arm, just for a second, and a warmth blooms where his fingers graze your skin as if your body’s memory of him can’t help but respond.

“Look,” he says, his voice dipping softer, “I just… I miss you so much. Like hell.”

The honesty in his tone hits you hard, unravelling the cold exterior you’ve worked so hard to keep up. He keeps his eyes on you, watching your face carefully as if gauging your reaction. You feel your resolve slipping even more, your arms slowly falling to your sides, your heart aching as you fight against the wave of warmth that’s threatening to break through.

“Ben…” you start, barely a whisper, but you don’t know what to say, feeling torn.

He moves a little closer, his eyes wide, pleading, like he’s trying to hold onto every inch of you he can. “I know I messed up, okay? But I don’t wanna lose you. Not for good. Please, Y/N. Give me one more chance, you won't regret it 'n if I fuck up bad, you can do whatever, however; I deserve it but please. Just one more chance.”

You press your lips tight together, feeling your heart tighten as his words sink in, as he stands there looking at you with that same vulnerability you’d once fallen in love with. For a second, you forget the hurt, the sleepless nights, and you’re left with just him, the version of him that’s open, sincere, the Ben you’d once held so close.

The walk to the hotel stretches out as he keeps talking, spilling out and laying his heart bare with that easy, boyish charm that only he can pull off, and little by little, you feel your icy exterior start to melt. He talks about his time away from you, how he admired you from videos, watched highlight reels, his endless hours at night going through photos and texts; the whole lot. He cracks a joke, and despite yourself, you smile, trying to hide it but failing. He nudges you again, grinning as he sees the hint of laughter breaking through your guard.

He apologises over and over, more earnestly each time, his voice steady and low, and you can hear the regret, the guilt, the need to make things right. By the time you reach the hotel entrance, you’re feeling something dangerously close to hope, your heart betraying you, making it harder and harder to keep up the facade.

You glance over at him, catching the way his eyes soften as he looks at you as if you’re the only thing he can see. He’s staring, the blush from earlier creeping back up his neck, and when his hand brushes yours one last time, you don’t pull away.

You stand just outside the hotel, a faint chill brushing past as the streetlights cast a warm glow around you. You shift on your feet, glancing up at him, your eyes soft but determined.

“Can I talk?” you ask, breaking the quiet, your voice barely above a whisper. The first thing you had actually said this entire time.

Ben raises an eyebrow, leaning in with a playful smirk. “Talk? What else have we been doin’ for the last twenty minutes, girl?”

You roll your eyes and reach out to smack his arm, earning a chuckle from him. “Fine then. Can we go up to your room?” you add, a small, daring smile tugging at your lips.

Ben’s eyebrow quirks higher. “My room, huh?” His gaze narrows, teasing you with that familiar glint. “What exactly ya got planned, sweetheart?”

You swat him again, harder this time, and he laughs, raising his hands in mock defence. But then you drop the smile, your voice softer. “I wanna talk about what I did, Ben. I messed up too.”

The teasing fades from his expression as he studies your face, searching. After a pause, he nods and gestures toward the lobby. “Alright, then. Let’s go talk.”

In the elevator, silence hangs thick in the air, tension as familiar as it is unspoken. You don't even notice, spending your time stilling your breath and running through everything you want to apologise for. When you reach his room, you head over to the small couch by the window and settle in, tucking your legs under you and giving him a steady look.

“Ya gettin’ comfortable already?” he jokes, leaning against the wall, his eyes dancing with that old spark that makes you ache.

You try not to smile, steeling yourself for your confessional. “Can you be serious for a minute?”

His smile fades as he walks over, sitting across from you, his gaze intense and focused. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you’ve held back.

“I shouldn’t have put so many expectations on you,” you begin, your voice wavering. “You’ve got your own life, your own competitions, your own dreams. All this constant travelling, the different time zones… it’s not fair to expect you to be there every time I needed you at the drop of a hat. You get burnt out too- God. I never even asked how you were before I'd launch into my own day.”

You bite your lip, blinking back tears as they start to blur your vision. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve been more understanding, given you more grace.” Your voice catches, barely a whisper now. “And what I said… on that call… it was cruel, Ben. I was mean and unfair, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it. At all. I wouldn't want myself back after all I had said and done.”

As a tear slips down your cheek, Ben’s face softens, and he reaches out without hesitation, his hands cupping your face as he brushes the tear away. His thumb lingers on your skin, his gaze is unwavering, and then he leans forward, pressing the gentlest kiss to your temple, another to your forehead, and a final one at the crown of your head, his hand resting tenderly against your hair.

You let out a shuddered breath, your hands covering his as you finally let everything pour out. “I miss you so much,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I miss everything about you… the way you laugh, your ridiculous voice…” Another tear rolls down, and you don’t try to hold back. “I miss the way you’d talk about cars or food for ages, and you’d make everything feel so normal, even when my life was a mess. Without you, it’s like this haze I can’t shake. I just… I miss you. I barely recognise myself these days.”

Your body shakes with the sobs you’ve tried so hard to bury, and Ben doesn’t hesitate. He pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he could shield you from all the pain, all the regret. He holds you there, one hand smoothing over your hair, his lips pressing soft, tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks, murmuring gentle words against your skin.

“S’all right, darlin’,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

You cling to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, as his hands trace soothing circles along your back. Your sobs gradually quiet, but your breaths are still shaky, each exhale unsteady.

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” you manage, voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Hey now,” he murmurs, his tone warm and grounding. “We both made mistakes. Ain’t just on you, alright? Takes two to mess up, but it takes two to fix it too. We can fix, can't we?”

You nod, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, feeling a little of the weight lift, softened by his words.

Ben tilts your head to hold your gaze, his own eyes glassy. “Can’t tell ya how many times I thought about callin’ ya or flying to ya,” he admits, his voice low. “How many times I’d pull up your name, wonderin’ what you’d say if I told ya all the things I wished I’d said. But I was… hell, I was scared, darlin’. Thought maybe I’d screwed up too bad, and you’d moved on.”

You shake your head, a small, breathy laugh escaping. “I couldn’t...I could never.”

He strokes your hair gently, his lips brushing your forehead once more. “Guess we’re both a couple of fools then, huh?”

You laugh softly, the sound wet and trembling as he pulls you back into his arms. You lean into him, letting yourself feel the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart, grounding you. Wrapped in the quiet, tangled together, you both hold on a little tighter, feeling the rawness of your honesty and the comfort of finally, finally being close again. In the safety of his arms, you feel, for the first time in so long, a sense of peace, letting the unspoken words settle around you like a quiet promise.

Ben’s hand rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles as he learns your face all over again, making your heart flutter. His fingers move slowly, grazing down to your jaw, then up again, threading into your hair. You let your eyes close for a moment, his gentle touch working its way through the tension of the night, and a small, contented sigh escapes you. For the first time in weeks, you feel relaxed and content.

“Gettin’ comfortable, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, though there’s a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He leans in, giving one final push to a stray strand of your hair before tilting his head toward the bed across the room. “C’mon, darlin’. This couch is barely holdin’ us together.”

You hesitate, but Ben’s already moving, holding out his hand as he stands up. His grip is strong, guiding you as you follow him to the bed, and he lets out a soft chuckle as you settle beside him. His arm drapes around you, pulling you close as you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you. The warmth is so consuming, cocooning you immediately.

Ben smiles down at you, a playful glint in his eye, and as his fingers find your hair again, he starts twirling a strand between his fingers. “So,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “ya still gonna keep me blocked, huh?”

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Fine,” you reply, unlocking your phone with a playful huff. You find his name, well, technically his new contact name since you’d deleted him in a fit of anger, and type a single white heart emoji, pressing send.

The vibration of his phone buzzes beside him, and he pulls it out with a grin, holding up the glowing screen. “There it is. Knew ya couldn’t resist me,” he says, laughing as he pulls you in close as he kisses your temple.

But just as you relax against him, you notice a missed notification. It’s a text from Coco, her reply to your earlier message asking where she’d disappeared to after dinner. You hesitate, then, instead of texting back, you tap the Facetime icon, feeling a strange urge to share this quiet moment, finding words couldn't suffice, nor were you in the mood to type out a lengthy paragraph.

The call connects, and Coco’s face appears, a gasp escaping her as she spots you two tangled up in Ben’s bed, nestled together with his arm around you.

“Oh my god! Yes!” she cheers, loud enough to make Ben chuckle. You hear laughter and cheers in the background too, and Coco turns the camera, revealing the whole dinner table watching with knowing smiles.

"Coco, this was a set-up plan, huh?" you giggle as you see the entire friend group on the other end.

"Somewhat, but blame Morgan and Taylor, not me. They did all that," she throws the blame as she points the camera over to them. Frances, Morgan and Taylor wave and Frances yells “Look at Ben! Already got her in bed, huh?”

Ben rolls his eyes, but a faint blush colours his cheeks. He pulls you closer, his hand resting protectively around your shoulders as he grins.

“Hey now,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “This one’s special. Ain’t like any other. My lucky charm.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you’re so focused on him that you barely notice Coco and the others making gagging noises before Ben reaches out, ending the call on your phone with a smirk. Then he turns back to you, his eyes soft, filled with something that feels dangerously like forever.

He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender, each second lingering with quiet promises. And in the warmth of his arms, your heart finally feels at home, exactly where it belongs.

#azzie asks #ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

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skyechild · 2 years ago

Text

Down Time and Rewards

𖤐Summary: Just a lazy day with your baby. Hes been so good and now you want to reward him.

𖤐Pairing: switch!san x switch!reader

𖤐Genre: just pure smut, no plot...

𖤐Warnings: none. reader has female body parts.

𖤐:Authors notes: sweats....this is my first time doing a sub idol and not a dom.... then the usual MDNI

𖤐Word count: 2.1k

𖤐 Net tags: @cultofdionysusnet / @stravvberrymilksan / @spooo00oky / @sunnyhokyu

It started pretty tame, San sitting between your legs with his back against your chest, your arms around his waist as you both watched a movie, your head on his shoulder as his hands rested on your knees. San would never admit it but he loved being in your arms, cuddled up against your chest or sitting across your lap. Thats how he usually had you, sitting across his lap with your head on his shoulder. Dont get him wrong he loved that just as much. He just liked being babied too.

He hummed as your thumb stroked the skin of his stomach absently, causing him to lean back against your chest more. He started getting fidgety once your fingers stroking the skin above his waistband, stroking the v line and the veins that dipped under his pants. “Sanie are you ok?” He hummed, nodding softly, eyes drooping closed as he let the feeling wash over. Melting into your hold as your fingers skimmed under the band of his sweats. “Youve been so good Sanie.” He nodded against your shoulder.

You shifted, leaning over to grab the lube from the bed side table. You hummed quietly as you slipped a hand under his sweats, fingers wrapping around the semi hard length inside. You pressed your lips against his cheek. “You’ve been doing so good during promotions. Atiny keep talking about it.” Removing your hand you hushed his whine as you squirted some of the lube on your fingers. You adjusted your positions, pushing San’s sweats down a bit.

You wrapped a hand around his length, squeezing as you snickered at his jolt. “Cold?” He nodded, whimpering softly as your other hand slid past his dick, sliding gently across perineum. His breath hitched and you giggled, nuzzling your face into his neck. “”Relax Sanie.” You cooed into his ear, letting your finger stroke the skin there until you felt him relax, tugging on his balls lightly before you prodded at his ass, cooing softly. “Youre such a good boy baby.” You whispered, stomach clenching at San’s whine of your name.

You licked a small spot on his jaw line as you pushed a finger inside, humming softly as you stroked his cock, smiling. “Focus on the feel of my hand around your cock San.” You whispered against his cheeks, nipping at the skin as you jerked your hand a few more times as you pushed your finger in deeper, licking your lips. A loud groan spurred your hand to move faster before you pulled you hand off, hitching San’s legs over yours to keep him spread. “Stop trying to close your legs.”

“Im sorry.” He whined, wanting your hand back on his cock as your finger moved slowly, a second slowly pushing in beside the first. “Since you said sorry.” You pecked his cheek a few times, getting a small giggle from the ticklish feeling before your hand snaked around his cock again, cutting the giggle off with a gasp as your thumb swept across the head and bringing the precum up to your mouth.

San’s eyes on you felt hot as you stuck your finger in your mouth. His mouth was open by now, panting into the air. Pulling them out with a slight pop you grinned at him. “Do you wanna taste?” You questioned, the eagerness in his eyes making your stomach clench. “I dont know if you should. I kind of want it all to myself.” You teased as San huffed, his hand wrapping around the back of your head as he tugged you to his lips, pressing a kiss to yours.

You sighed into the kiss, pushing the second finger in with the first as you moved your other hand to stroke his dick, swallowing his whine. He pulled back, hips jumping as your fingers slid across his prostate. “There?” San nodded rapidly, yelping as you pressed against it hard, a smack on his inner thigh following it as he tried to close his legs around the feeling. “Fuck!” You hummed as you moved your fingers down his cock, featherlight as they trailed over his balls to where your other hand was working him open.

They ghosted over his skin, warm to the touch as you stroked your fingers along his walls. “So warm hmm? Would it be better if i put one of my pretty toys here...” You paused, jerking your fingers against his prostate as they sped up. “...while i rode your cock. Maybe put a pretty cock ring around you too. Edge you maybe?” His cock jumped at your words, ass tightening around your fingers as he shook his head. “N-no edging, please...” You nodded.

“I guess we can keep edging for when one of us misbehaves hmm?” He nodded before he nipped at your bottom lip, hips twitching against your fingers as the other hand stroked up his thigh and across his pelvis.

“Such soft and pretty skin. Im sad that the marks went away so fast.” You pouted, digging your nails across his skin, the red lines sending a thrill up your spine and warmth towards your core. “Cant let atiny see how much of a whore their pretty San is hmm?” You teased, pushing in a third finger. “It seemed you liked it when i asked if i should give you a toy in here.” You spoke, stroking the skin of his stomach and sliding up his shirt, pinching his nipple as his moans grew louder.

“What if i got that pretty toy you got me and let you use it, let you eat me out? Or should i ride your cock?” You gasped teasingly as he gripped your thigh. “You might be useless if you try to eat me out while having that in your ass.” He made a high pitched noise and you hummed. “I have an even better idea.” You whispered, nosing at his neck. “What if we go get Seonghwa?” He tensed, ass clenching around your fingers. “Maybe Yunho? He seems too big for your tiny ass to take.” You tease and he huffs. “I can take it.” You rose a brow.

“I know any of them would love to join. Fuck the brat out of you. Especially Hongjoong.” You hummed and San huffed. “But thats right, youve been a good boy this week. So sweet for atiny. Nice to your hyung’s and others.” He nodded, whining as you slowed your fingers down. “Do you want the toy or should i go get one of the others? Or even the strap?” He whined as you curled your fingers inside him, your ring finger pushing at the rim of his hole. “You need to answer baby.”

He panted as he turned to press his face against your neck, sweat lining his forehead as he jerked his hips again. “More.” He whimpered and you rose a brow. “More of what? Use your words and manners.” You hummed and San rolled his hips, moving your hand to wrap around his cock. “So close...” He cried softly, moving his hips back against your fingers. You grinning, both hands speeding up before stopping, Sans high pitched whine filling the air.

“You didnt use words baby. I dont know what you want if you dont tell me love.” He took a deep breath before mumbling something quietly. “Louder baby. What do you want baby?” You murmured, resting his head back on your shoulder. “I want you, i just want you...” You nodded. “Alright baby. Just like this? Or do you want me to ride you?” You paused, stroking the skin of his thigh, the air against his body and hole making him shiver lightly and you grabbed a blanket.

“My baby is cold isnt he?” He nodded. You pulled the blanket up and over his lap as you grabbed a dildo out from the drawer. “Think you can take this baby? Or do you want the automatic one?” He took a deep breath. “the automatic one, but can you ride me at the same time please?” You smiled. “Thank you for using your manners angel.” You murmured, moving to get the other one set up.

You moved to grab the automatic toy and attaching it to the wall at the end of the bed as you glanced back at San and how he had kicked off the blanket, showing his hole that was still stretched. “Come here baby, lets start this while i get myself ready ok?” He nodded, crawling closer before positioning himself and moaning lowly as you inserted the dildo.

“Good angel?” He nodded, sighing deeply as the ache was removed slightly, his hand wrapping around his own cock. “Do you wanna prep me?” His eyes lidded as he nodded, watching you. “Yes please.” He mumbled and you shuffled closer, straddling his face after grabbing a remote. “Ill start is slow.” You murmured as you pressed a button, the dildo slowly moving in and out of him. “Fuck...” He mumbled, breath fanning across your pussy as you hovered above him after removing your clothes, tangling your fingers in his hair as he purred against your thigh at the feeling, a low rumble in his chest.

“Look at me baby.” You smiled as he looked up at you, eyes sparkling but hazy with lust as you lowered yourself onto his lips, a soft huff leaving you as his arms came to wrap around your thighs, pulling you down against his mouth, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Tugging gently at his hair once his nose bumped your clit. “Fuck!” You whimpered as he tightened his grip, tongue swiping through your folds as teasing your entrance.

A soft tug of his hair made him hum against you. You whined once his lips closed around the bundle of nerves and sucking. “San!” You groaned, a hand leaving his hair to press against the bed above his head, thighs shaking. San giving you head was one your favorites and you know he liked it just as much if not more.

That was how he would edge you. Get you close, barely tipping over the ledge only to get yanked back whenever he pulled away, that clenching in your stomach turning painful. He loved seeing you cry whenever he gave you head.

Returning to the present you groaned as he dug his nails into your thighs, the slight pain sending a thrill to your core. Once his finger pressed into you, tongue sliding through your folds. Moans leaving him at times as the toy got a good spot. The vibrations from his moans made your stomach clench. “Please San.” His eyes glanced at yours before he pressed another finger inside, humming at how lose you were and he pulled away, breathing deeply. “Sit baby.”

He pushed you towards his cock. “Turn it up as well. I know how much you like it.” You nodded, shuffling to lower yourself on his cock, whimpering before you turned the toy up higher, a moan leaving both of you at the feeling. San’s hips jumping as the toy hit his prostate causing his hands to fall on your hips, pulling you down tighter. “If you move im going to cum.” His voice was strained as he closed his eyes.

The toy kept hitting his prostate, causing a chain reaction. His hips jumping, his grip tightening, his hips jumping causing you to move with him, making him cry out. You loved this, seeing him struggle. “If you can hold it back til i cum, you can cum inside me.” You whispered and San whimpered at your words. “Stop talking youre making it worse.” You giggled before you rose up a bit before dropping back down as his hips jerked up at the same time, hitting that soft part inside you. You cried out, hands resting on his chest and slowly scratching down his chest and stomach.

“Y/n please...” He whimpered and you hummed, speeding up your voice, feeling San’s stomach clench every time you dropped your hips. The stimulation San was getting was insane. “Almost there baby, just a little bit more.” You whimpered as San jerked his hips up again, aimed perfectly towards your g spot which he was now hitting consistently.

You gasped as you felt yourself at the edge again. “Cum Sannie, you can cum.” He cried out, holding you down against his pelvis as warm ropes hit your walls, that being the catalyst as you came around his cock, grabbing the remaining strength to turn off the toy for San once he started whining of overstimulation.

“You did so good baby. You feeling ok?” He nodded, a dopey smile on his lips as he looked at you. “Stay here, ill clean us up.” He nodded, moving enough to let the toy slide out of him. “Fuck.” He sighed once you disappeared into the bathroom.

#cultofdionysusnet #choi san smut #choi san imagine #bottom san #ateez smut #ateez imagine #san smut #mdni #skyechilds work #enjoy this pure smut

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your-mommy-ems · 6 months ago

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hi!!! i'm milly, i'm brand new to tumblr, and i'm just trying to get to know all my mutuals!!! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

❀˖° how would you describe your aesthetic?

❀˖° if you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life what would it be?

❀˖° what's your favorite weather?

❀˖° who are some of your favorite mutuals? (sorry if i already asked u this haha im just trying to meet more people!!!)

hiii milly!!! this is such a cute way to do so oml (i was js awkward for the first three months lol)

˖° honestly irl i'm like a train wreck but if i were to say any it'd be like softish, vanilla girl, coastal granddaughter, and green (its my fave colour lmao)

˖° oooh thats hard honestly any gracie album maybe tsou of tiwifl? idk its too hard to choose.

˖° cloudly rainy weather! (like right now hehe)

˖° oooh ok ok @reminiscentreader, @nqds, @sophiesonlinediary, @lxvebelle, @maybxlle

@isnthatsweet, @ssparksflyy, @skeelly, @xo-zozo, @percabeths-blue-cookies (and so many more that im too lazy to tag lol)

#°˖➴ love letters from em 💌⊹。

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animeniacss · 10 months ago

Text

Seoksoo - (im)perfect Part 1 - Chapter 1

Synopsis: Lee Seokmin likes a lot of things: karaoke, stuffed animals, his friends, his family (when they're not at each other's throats), and when things go according to plan. It's perfect that way. That is...until Joshua Hong, the Education Department TA, stumbles into his view one day and suddenly Seokmin has to start facing the fact that maybe not everything in life will be perfect...but with Joshua, that might just be ok.

Tags: College!AU, ActingMajor!Seokmin, Teacher!Joshua, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Side GyuCheol, Side JunHao, Side Verkwan, Other Idol appearances, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Domestic Violence (not between the main couple), Joshua is a dork 90% of the time, (More Tags will be Added as needed)

Length: approx. 5k words

Chapter 1

Most people have a balance of things they like or don’t. Not Seokmin. Seokmin likes a lot of things. Seokmin likes going to karaoke after a long week of testing at school. Seokmin likes singing his lungs out to whatever power ballad he comes across within the confined and padded room, performing for the three or four friends he got to tag along with as if he were making his singing debut. Seokmin liked watching television, cartoons, and funny anime that made him laugh until his sides felt they would burst open. Seokmin likes seeing his friends laugh along with him even if the jokes aren’t that funny. Yes, Seokmin likes a lot of things.

Seokmin likes the feeling of the cool breeze at the tail end of fall, hence why he found himself parked right on the first bench he saw as he strolled out of the last class of the day. With his backpack beside him, Seokmin leaned back and watched as the rest of the campus moved on around him. He liked people watching too; liked seeing people find comfort in the bubble of their friends or lovers, giggling as they strolled through the familiar paths of the university. He liked hearing the monotonous whoosh of the building doors opening and closing in a familiar routine. He liked it because it was familiar; he could plan for the familiar.

Seokmin leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he flipped his phone from his back pocket and into his hands. It was just barely 3:30, he had the entire afternoon and evening to himself. What should he do? There were many things he wanted to do. Unlocking his phone enabled him to see all of his apps, neatly placed in boxes depending on their use. ‘Entertainment’, ‘Social Media’, ‘School Work’, and ‘Finances’ all of it was organized. All of it was familiar, and that was what Seokmin liked. Lazy fingers scrolled through the options. His Twitter icon held onto a bright red bubble with ‘13’ inside, and Seokmin chuckled, clicking it open and skimming the frantic tweeting of his friends as they discussed back and forth about something he had no interest in. Leaving one like to show some support, he closed out the app and was finally rid of the pesky red bubble.

“Spacing out again?” A gentle voice with a hint of playfulness alerted Seokmin to look up. He glanced over to see a head of brunette fluff plop beside him, two honey-bun cheeks grinning. Legs in denim jeans crossed at the ankles, and Seokmin only offered a half smile.

“No, not this time.” He said. “Just finished class. You?”

The brunette putting his head on Seokmin’s shoulder and letting out an exasperated sigh was enough to tell Seokmin of his feelings. “I have two-night classes on Thursdays.”

“Ouch.”

“Teaching is a bitch.” Seokmin snorted, his half-smile widening to one that took up his entire face. “I have a presentation on effective teaching strategies due tomorrow. I’ll be awake until my eyes bleed, Hyung.”

“Awww, Kwannie. I’m sorry.” He patted his friend’s hair affectionately, hoping to relieve some of his tension. “It will all be worth it when you become the best teacher in the country. Teaching the generations of tomorrow!” Seungkwan laughed a bit. “I’ll have dinner ready when you get home, okay?”

A warm hum in reply made Seokmin’s smile soften, but not leave his face. Knowing Seungkwan was satisfied made Seokmin feel the same. “Thanks, Hyung. You’re the best.”

Seokmin likes – no – Seokmin adores his roommate, Boo Seungkwan. The duo met when Seungkwan lugged his bags into his dorm last year with his mom and three chattering older sisters, a flustered freshman rooming with the one sophomore at the time who offered out of all of those who were asked.

“I’m thinking of grilled pork and some sides,” Seokmin said, and Seungkwan was practically salivating. “Sound good?”

“Delicious.” Seungkwan smiled, sitting back up. Arms stretched over his head, another groan escaping his lips. Seokmin noticed this one sounded more optimistic than the last; another thing Seokmin found he liked about Seungkwan. “I’ll be home around 7, I guess. By the time class lets out and I catch the bus-.”

“I’ll be sure to have it ready by then.” Seokmin patted his friend on the shoulder. “You should get going before you’re late to class.”

“What are your plans for the afternoon?” Seokmin shrugged, finally rising from his seat and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m thinking maybe I’ll study in the library for a little while before I head home.” Seungkwan nodded, eyes sparkling. “I want to try and get as much work as I can done this week so I can focus on my lines.”

“That’s right. The play is coming up. When do auditions start?”

“Next week.” Seokmin pulled the rolled-up paper from the side of his bag, unraveling it to show a beautifully decorated flyer. The bright colors and symbols were meant to attract new eyes to the play. “I still have a few more lines to get.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Seungkwan assured. “You always nail your auditions!”

Seokmin’s beaming smile fell to a half-one again. His cheeks flushed a pretty pink at the compliment. “You think?” he asked.

“Of course! Must I remind you that I was the one who made a very detailed sign last year?” No, Seungkwan didn’t. Nobody would forget the gaudy thing, made with makeshift items one would find at the local craft store and glued onto a large piece of paper that Seungkwan waved from the back of the theatre like one of those leaf fans used to cool down an ancient emperor.

“I dunno. I’m kind of nervous this time.”

“Then go run lines to yourself like the loveable weirdo you are, and I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Oh, haha.” Seokmin frowned, though he couldn’t stay mad at Seungkwan’s playful smile. “Bye, Kwannie.” Seokmin waved his friend off down the path, the education building nestled nicely between the theater building Seokmin just left and the science building. Seokmin watched until Seungkwan turned up the steps, eyes seeming to beam as a few friends waved him over. Seokmin watched as they latched onto him, the group chatting as they disappeared behind a turned corner.

Seokmin liked that his friends had friends. When his friends had friends, it meant Seokmin was simply that: another friend.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

The library was usually bustling right after the last set of afternoon classes ended, and Seokmin made his way in, bag at his side and headphones pressed into his ears. He liked the smell of the library, always a sweet scent like vanilla or cinnamon that made one feel they were in a bakery, more than in a library full of old books. Seokmin didn’t mind though. Setting the bag down, he pulled out a laptop, turned it on, and watched the blue light assault his eyes so hard he had to squint for a second. Careful fingers glided along the mouse pad, opening up a half-completed essay on a modern play and how it compared to the original. Seokmin chose Mama Mia! because, of course, he did. He’d seen the American movie millions of times with his sister and mother, and the play in Gangnam just as many times. He could write this essay in his sleep….so why was it only halfway done? Seokmin took a few silent minutes to skim through what he had already written, comparisons of Sophie’s musical portrayal compared to that of American actress Amanda Seyfried being the bulk of the first page. Seokmin pursed his lips together, eyes scanning line by line until he reached the end of the essay. Two out of four pages were completed. And it was due by tomorrow.. Seokmin leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Seokmin liked studying the lines of plays more than he liked writing about plays, so when he ended up with the script in his hand for the upcoming school musical, XCalibur, a story of King Arthur, he wasn't surprised. Seokmin had read the story in school because what angsty teenager didn’t, and he loved the idea of challenging himself with the role of the lead. Flipping through the script, he scanned the blue-highlighted lines. Beside each chunk of Arthur’s lines, he scribbled a few notes and ideas for how he wanted to portray himself. Or, well, how the director would want him to be portrayed. His lips quietly mouthed the lines, nose scrunching when Arthur was disgusted and eyes widening when he was shocked. When someone at the next table coughed, Seokmin froze, his lips stopping mid-lip-synced sentence. His head turned towards the sound, locking eyes with a blonde girl whose hair was tugged into two tight braids. Her glasses that sat atop her nose were pushed up just slightly, allowing Seokmin to briefly catch her eyes, which studied him. He could feel his eyebrows raised as he sat frozen in a stunned expression, lips parted slightly. The sight of this girl glaring daggers into him for a mere second was enough to get him to turn back to the script, face completely resetting back to normal. Was she sick? Why was she in the library if she was sick, though? That’s not very sanitary…Seokmin felt panic bubble in his chest. Seokmin flipped his script closed and shoved it in his bag.

He would save running lines for home, less coming across like one of those ‘weirdos’ Seungkwan mentioned.

If he wasn’t going to write his essay…or study his lines…what else could one do in the library? Read, of course. Seokmin traveled up the steps to the second level, immediately catching sight of different people huddled around tables and on computers as they attempted to get their work done. A few were lounging on big, comfy chairs and simply reading. He looked around for a minute, scanning the different options. Seokmin liked to read about romance. Seokmin liked romance, period. There was something about seeing the progression of two people who were once strangers coming together and forming a new timeline, one that intertwined with each other in ways they may or may not have imagined.

Eyes darted from top shelf to bottom, at the spines of various books hoping to stand out among the sea of other romance novels. Seokmin didn’t care; he’d read them all. Reaching up, Seokmin took hold of one that caught his eye. A deep red cover with the outline of two rings sitting on top of one another, supporting one another in what looked like an empty void otherwise. The title ‘P for perfect’ was written in English and Korean, as well as the author. Seokmin flipped through the pages for a second, taking in the few words and short blurbs that he could as pages whirred by his eyes, before tucking it under his arm and leaving a book-shaped hole in the shelf where he pulled it. Seokmin pursed his lips, studying the hole for a second before sliding all of the books down just a tad and closing it up. “There.” He whispered. That hole would have eventually led to books falling over due to the mere weight the others. Seokmin liked knowing they were secure.

As he walked down the aisle just a bit more, reaching a wide lounging area, he caught more individuals buried in their books to study, a similar sight regardless of where in the library he looked. He caught sight of one person in particular sitting at a seat alone, not studying but instead sitting beside a large stack of papers. Seokmin couldn’t explain why he wanted to stare – maybe he was a weirdo, and that’s why the girl from downstairs was looking at him funny – but he stood behind one of the walls of books and watched the male press the tip of a red pen to his lips. His brows were furrowed, deep in thought at whatever he was reading. His hair was just barely hiding Seokmin from seeing his side profile, light brown hair hanging in front of his face until a hand came up and tucked the strands behind his ear. He….was fucking gorgeous! A nose that fell to a perfect point, and wide eyes that seemed focused on the task before him. Lips covering the tip of that red pen protruded slightly, looking as if he were almost chewing down on the writing utensil.

Seokmin liked a lot of things….and this guy’s side profile was now one of them.

Pen pressed to paper finally, allowing the man’s lips to press together once again as he scribbled away. Seokmin finally retreated when the male looked up, light brown locks swaying a bit. Seokmin couldn’t see, but it seemed someone else was calling for him. Waving his head in acknowledgment, Seokmin watched Brown-Locks stand up and stuff his papers in his bag before heading towards the figure he knew was blocked by the bookshelf before him. When the man was out of his sight, Seokmin stepped into view, his book held tightly to his chest.

I wonder if he saw me at all. Seokmin thought to himself, though he was unsure if he’d like that or not.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

Seokmin liked to cook, but he was neither good nor bad at it. He knew basic recipes his mother taught him when he was younger and learned some new ones off the internet. Seungkwan helped sometimes, but Seokmin liked the sight of his friend’s eyes sparkling when he took the first bite of his food.

“It’s delicious, Hyung.” Seungkwan always beams; thus Seokmin always finds himself pressed against the kitchen counter making sure that the rice finishes cooking at the same time that the pork finishes grilling. He doesn’t mind, though. Seungkwan has always made sure he was a good roommate. He has from the time they were in the dorms until this year when they decided to get one of the apartments just off campus in hopes of a little more freedom. The rent being pretty cheap, even without the discount they gave to students attending school nearby, meant it wasn’t the most spacious, but it had what two college students in their twenties who yearned for a bit more freedom required. A kitchen, two bedrooms, and their own little laundry space tucked neatly into the corner. What they saved by cheapening out on the rent they used to keep their pantry filled with snacks and goodies, the perfect spot that the duo found themselves graviating towards for a snack during those late night study sessions. It was their own permanent sleep over and Seokmin liked that. It was exactly what he needed.

The clock read 6:15 when Seokmin next looked at it, and he looked down at the spread he had been preparing since he arrived home. Once dinner was done, and Seungkwan offered to do the dishes, Seokmin could sit on the couch with a snack and-.

Bzzzzt. Bzzt.

Seokmin peeled his eyes from the clock just long enough to feel the vibration of his phone from his back pocket. With a quick cleaning of his rice-covered hands, he flipped open his phone. Kwannie followed by a string of orange emoji appeared on his phone. Without missing a beat, Seokmin opened the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hey!” He beamed.

“Ah, hey….” Immediately, Seokmin felt his smile falter and his other hand drop to his side. His stomach did a flip that made him want to hurl. “Seokmin-Hyung, listen. I don’t know if I’ll make it home for dinner after all.”

“O-oh.” Seokmin muttered.

“I’m sorry. My friends invited me to the library to get the rest of this project done and I need all the help I can get. I think there are some books I need to get at the library, too.” Seungkwan sighed. “I’m so sorry.” Hearing Seungkwan’s amplified apology burned Seokmin’s ears, and he toyed with one of the loops in his jeans.

“Sorry?” he asked. “Why are you sorry?” Seokmin looked down at the rice cooling down. “You need to finish your project, after all.”

“Do you want to come back and join us for dinner? I’ll pay!”

“No, no. Go have fun with your friends.” He assured. “I’ll save you some leftovers for tomorrow, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” his voice was soft, shaky, almost bordering embarrassed.

“Sure,” Seokmin assured. “I can’t eat all of this by myself.” He giggled. “Go get your work done for your presentation. That’s…much more important.”

Seungkwan must have caught Seokmin’s delay because he paused a second before replying. “Okay. Thank you, Hyung. I’m sorry it’s so last minute. I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Make it up to me by getting an A, how about that.” Seokmin heard a breathy chuckle from his friend. “Just let me know when you’re headed home, yeah? And be safe.”

“Right. I’ll see you later on tonight, then.” Seokmin hummed, quickly slapping his phone shut, and tossed it onto the couch behind him. He winced when he heard it bounce off the plush surface and onto the floor, the echo reverberating into the room.

“Shit….” He turned back to the meal before him, just barely done and ready to be served. Seokmin allowed the clinking of metal silverware and plates to fill the silence in the apartment as he fixed the settings on the table from two to one. Nestling into his seat, Seokmin looked down at the spread. “It’s for school…” He said to himself, picking up the bowl of rice. He reached his chopsticks forward for some grilled pork, mixing the two and sticking it into his mouth. He hoped if it was filled with food, it wouldn’t utter anything else. He had to finish his project. It’s understandable….

When Seokmin felt his eyes prick with tears, a sleeved arm came and caught them, pressing against his eyes so hard that for a second he saw stars. With a few deep breaths, he lowered his arm and stuck another bite of dinner in his mouth.

As he chewed, he knew the food was delicious. It was the same recipe he always used. However, the emptiness from across the little table in the kitchen made him question his cooking ability for a second.

Seokmin hated broken promises. But…maybe this wouldn’t have happened if the girl at the library didn’t think Seokmin looked like such a weirdo rehearsing lines. A domino effect it seems.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

Seokmin was sipping a glass of water, his new library book propped open as Seungkwan made his presence known. Seokmin turned his head as the brunette strolled in. Despite their red strain, most likely from hours of staring at a computer, Seungkwan’s eyes were beaming as he strolled in. It was as if he won the lottery. Seokmin checked the time: 11:00.

“Hyung-.” Seungkwan beamed almost immediately when he saw Seokmin sitting there. “You’ll never guess what happened tonight.”

Seeing Seungkwan’s excitement made Seokmin’s own smile form on his face, a chameleon blending in with his surroundings. He closed his book, making sure to mark the page for later. Seungkwan practically swan dove onto the couch, sitting with his legs crossed as he turned to his taller roommate. “What happened? Did you get your work done?”

“Mhm.” Seungkwan seemed proud. “But that’s not all. Guess who ended up coming to the study group?” Seokmin cocked an eyebrow, silently prompting Seungkwan to share. “Chwe Hansol!”

Immediately, Seokmin recalled the name. A boy in two of Seungkwan’s previous education classes. This one too, it seems. “Aaah.” A grin of intrigue broke on Seokmin’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think he was coming but apparently, he got invited last minute, too.” Seungkwan’s eyes sparkled, and Seokmin could have sworn he saw hearts forming in his friend’s pupils. “He was helping me with my translations for some of the articles. Did I tell you that he was born in New York?”

“You did.”

“Yeah, so he speaks fluent English and has his Korean citizenship.” Seungkwan sighed, bliss filling his lungs and exhaling right into Seokmin’s face. “He’s just so cool.”

“Oooo.” Seokmin smiled. “Is there perhaps a confession of love soon?”

“Whaaaaat? Hyung, no, no. I don’t know if he’s into that. He’s pretty to himself.” Seokmin smiled as his friend's cheeks grew redder and redder the more he talked. “I mean. I don’t know if he’s not not into guys like that. I didn’t ask.”

“Well, there’s your problem.”

“But I barely know him,” Seungkwan added. “I don't think that’s good first conversation talk. ‘Hey, you’re really cute. Are you gay?’” Seokmin nodded in acknowledgement.

“Fair point. No use running right out of the gate. But, now that you two have some kind of connection you should feel it out. Tonight is the first time you had an interaction with him outside of staring at him in class.” Seungkwan giggled shyly. “Just get to know him more and see if he’s something you want to spend time with, and not just…well, you know-.” Seokmin paused a second, lips tugged together as he figured out how to phrase the rest of his sentence.

“…Fuck?” Seungkwan asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” The duo laughed. “Just see what kind of guy he is and see if that matches what you’re looking for. If you don’t do that, then you’ll end up either screwing up royally, or heartbroken, or both.”

“But I get nervous when I talk to him,” Seungkwan said. “Like tonight, he reached out and pointed to an English sentence to translate to me. He was this close-.” Seungkwan squeezed his thumb and pointer finger together until there was barely a centimeter between them. “I felt like I wanted to curl up and die. I don’t even think I spoke like an actual human in that moment.”

“You’ll get more comfortable. If he’s as cool as you say he is, then you’ll find your groove to talk to him. If not-.” Seokmin shrugged. “There’s plenty of others out there. You’re definitely someone to be sought after, no question.”

“Aww, thanks, Hyung.” Seungkwan sounded hopeful and relieved, which caused those feelings to parallel in Seokmin. “You’re always so good to talk to.”

“I try,” Seokmin confessed. “But it’ll all work out, so don’t stress much anymore. You should go to sleep if you have to give that presentation tomorrow.”

“Oh, you’re right! I’m so tired.” Seungkwan sighed. “I don’t think I’ve done that much reading and studying in a while.”

“I’m sure. Want tea or something before you turn in?”

“Nah. I’m okay.” Seungkwan smiled, his face now catching up with the rest of him as he yawned. “I’ll make breakfast tomorrow, okay?” he hummed. Seokmin’s smile dropped a bit, but not enough to make someone notice. Seungkwan’s eyes were half closed already, so he might not have. “Goodnight, Hyung.” He waved before retreating into his room, closing the door behind him.

Seokmin rested against the back of the couch once more, setting his library book on his lap. He looked down at it, thumbing the cover. When he touched the picture of the rings, he pressed his thumb against it, as if somehow the cool metal would rip through the cover and press into his hand. No luck, his thumb just turned a bit white and he lifted it back up, allowing the blood to flow back to the digit. It was past 11, most likely almost 12, and Seokmin knew he too had to head to bed. Rising from his spot, he set his book on the end table and headed into his own room.

Seokmin’s Wicked poster loomed over his bed as if it were watching over his most prized possessions as they sat comfortably on his mattress. Plushies. Seokmin. Loved. Plushies. He closed the door behind him, and it felt as if his little squishy friends greeted him, all with warm smiles to see him return after a long day. None of them thought he was a weirdo, and if they did, they couldn’t talk so they could never say so.

Seokmin crawled under the covers of his blanket, shuffling the few plush toys to either the headboard or the footrest, while others simply scattered around his bed. He hummed, nestling his head into his pillow and looking over at his newly acquired stuffed ravioli plush. Seungkwan and he found it during their most recent outing, and Seokmin almost flew out of his shoes when he saw the little guy staring at him from the window of a nearby shop. The smile on his face hurt long after he gave the confused and possibly concerned older woman his credit card and carried the ravioli plush out the door absolutely beaming the whole way to the car.

Seokmin knew tomorrow he had a lot of stuff to do, such as finish his essay on Mama Mia!, and get those last few chunks of blue highlighted lines memorized before his audition. He also knew that tomorrow’s breakfast would be taken care of, and waiting for him in the morning.

Will it be?

Seokmin closed his eyes, his hand secured around his little ravioli pal as he slowly began drifting off to sleep.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

“You know, maybe if you weren’t such a crazy fucking bitch, we wouldn’t be here right now!”

“Oh, fuck you! You always find some way to try and blame this on me. Do you fucking hear yourself right now?!

“All I hear is you yapping away like you always do!”

enough…

“You literally don’t even care about me, or this family, or anyone! You only care about yourself and what’s at the end of a fucking bottle! Do we mean nothing to you?!”

“Keep fucking running your mouth. Keep doing it, Lord knows you love to hear yourself talk!”

stop…

“Someone has to keep talking or else all you’ll hear in that little head of yours is your fucking mind!”

please….

The sound of a loud banging made Seokmin’s eyes fly open, and he immediately sat up in bed. The force of his movements sent all of his plush toys flying onto the floor, except for the ravioli plush that he kept in a fucking vice grip. It took a second for Seokmin’s eyes to register where he was, silhouettes of his dresser and his end table looking like boxy ghosts until his brain assured him it was just furniture. His heart was pounding in his chest, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get himself to stop feeling like he was drowning in the deepest part of the sea, with cinder blocks wrapped around his ankles.

Finally, his ears picked up something muffled from the other end of a very thin wall.

“Get the fuck out of my sight!”

“I’m not going anywhere. If it wasn’t for my paycheck, you’d be living on the fucking street and you know it!”

Oh…..this again.

Seokmin looked up at the wall as if it would allow him to see through it. The neighbors were fighting yet again. It was muffled, but their anger was as evident as ever. Seokmin could hear it clear as day, and he considered that a curse.

Seokmin hated unexpected loud noises. He hated the sound of screams, and guttural anger from one person to the next. He hated the sound of banging on walls, the slamming of doors, and the breaking of expensive glass.

“I’ll fucking leave and you’ll never see me or the kids ever again!”

“Go then! Leave!”

He hated the sound of empty threats because eventually they would not be so empty.

Seokmin turned towards his end table – not a boxy ghost – and reached forward, pulling open the drawer and pulling out a white pair of headphones. There was a significantly tight knot in the middle that he couldn’t undo no matter how many times his long fingers desperately fumbled with it. His hands were trembling, which meant no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get the headphone cord into the port on his phone. Each second that passed where this loudness entered his ears made his heart beat faster, and his adrenaline started pumping.

When he heard the sound of a muffled baby cry, Seokmin felt that familiar pricking sensation in the corner of his eyes. Finally, the adaptor connected with his phone, and he frantically pressed the white triangle that awaited him on his home screen. Within seconds, music flooded his ears and drowned out the fighting in the apartment over.

Seokmin saw a light turn on in the living room, and a shadow travel past his door. Seungkwan was awake….he could handle it. He may be the younger of the two, but he always handled it.

He was the one who could handle it.

Seokmin fell back onto the bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. His hand patted at his side for his ravioli plush, and when he connected with it, he squeezed it to his chest. Exhaling, Seokmin squeezed his eyes closed. He needed to go back to sleep….he couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he hoped that whatever it was, it was better than what was happening in real life. It was a 50/50 chance every time. A flip of a coin that had a smile on one side and a frown on the other.

Seokmin knew the coin landed on the frowny face when behind his eyelids, a familiar girl with blonde braids shot daggers at him from her seat. Did she still think he was a weirdo? Did she think that in the first place?

Go practice your lines in the library like the [redacted] weirdo you are.

I probably did look like such a weirdo. He thought to himself, pressing his face into the back of his plush. He liked how soft it felt on his face, like a comforting one-sided hug.

Seokmin liked a lot of things, but he hated so many more.

Return to K-Pop Masterlist Previous / Next

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sp1lled-lemon4de · 2 years ago

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ꨄ︎Bubblegum Bitchꨄ︎ ____________

Fandom: MHA (My Hero Academia) Characters: Mina Ashido x Fem!reader Genre: Fluff and smut A/n: Happy pride month!!! its my first btw...if you didn't know im Pan <3, also here is a cute gay fic :D

____________________ Having Mina as your friend was amazing, she is amazing. She is so bubbly and such a friendly person. You often found yourself staring at her, during lunch or

stealing glances at during classes.

She was your pink mutant best-friend. Key word…was…

You loved and hated your study sessions with her, reason being most of the time you wouldnt even study…

The pink haired girl wouldnt even open a damn book, much less read its contents.

She would usually just sit down and talk about cute guys she sees on the road, literally airport crushes. The chances of you ever getting to see them were very low, and you didn't want to do the math.

At some point it got annoying…not like you would ever tell her… you know what it feels like to get shut out by the people who you think care about you and are interested in what you have to say, especially if its something your passionate about.

But the thing that worried you the most was the fact that your mind wandered, like really far…

you would see her bubble with excitement and her pretty pink lips move with every word, you swore time both slowed down and speed up when you were with her…

She noticed…

Mina noticed your reaction to her 'antics' and how you treated her… she knew but never really said something.

That was until one night…it honestly was a blur for you (listen im too lazy to give you background details, use your imagination for this one T-T)

You could only focus on the pretty bubblegum pink girl on top of you, and how close her leg was to your private areas.

Admit you like it, is what your sinful nature told you, but she was your friend and you have to admit, her being your somewhat crush was ok, but that didn't give you the right to overly sexualize her.

You made sure not to lay a finger on her, scared that you would scare her away…

She opened her mouth and you could see she was speaking, but you were too lost in the moment to focus.

she moved her head between you neck, "can i?" she asked, her hand dangerously close to her destinated area.

You wanted to speak but you were afraid you would let out a pathetic little whimper or moan instead, so you just settled for a nod and a little 'mhm' giving her a green light to let her have her way with you.

Things got heated and you soon found yourself on top of her, her chest and pretty pink nipples exposed for all and by all i mean you to see.

you wanted to touch her but felt so embarrassed by your wants and needs that you just buried your face in her neck.

she let out a small chuckle and a few harsh breaths, patting your head, reassuring you… and the rest was a blur.

______________________

LMAO I HAVENT POSTED IN LIKE FOREVER Had art test today :D art is my fav subject and i think the highest i got in art so far was 91% aiming for higher though >:D Did my painting today the theme was 'night lift' i painted a fancy wine glass and explain the painting and at the back, i used mixed medium lmao...and when i finished one guy from my class and his exact words were "Author/name why you does do everything so good dawg" anyways my classmates loved it and i put tons of effort i really hope i get higher this term :D <333

(TAGS BELOW)

#hugmebringitin-whoooo #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #<3 #smut #mina x reader #mina ashido #mina ashido x reader #<33333

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illogicallyx · 1 year ago

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Ok ok ok so I’ll just talk jjk rn because heh why not. So like, Satoru and Suguru are the main main guys- and even b/w these, Suguru stands undefeated lmao. The rest like idk I can think of issues so I just stick to one guy— (ok I imagine a poly between us ok?)

So yes, suguru: we have the academic rival trope for sure—with the “smart ass x dumb ass” thing going except we switch the tags every few few minutes<3 loook suguru def did not like me initially, and vice versa because I found him too stoic and he found me obnoxious BUT the mutual admiration? Yes. Also like between the two of us, he is more mature emotionally so it’s mainly him opening up first—and all that and I’m more friendly to people so I help him socialise and whatever lmao—you can call it golden retriever x black cat energy lmao. Also hcs:- we spend nights where I ramble to him about space and maths until either of us falls asleep or he tells me history facts or psychology facts in the lazy mid-afternoon cuddle sessions until we’re all warm and cozy.

Ok I tried my best of writing someone here but I have nobody💀 so honourable mentions to Megumi and Nanami here lmao. Hand obviously Satoru. I just myself very platonic with everyone else yk?

So I’ll just say Chuuya because lolz: now idk if there is any trope that goes “boss x secretary” frfr but yes. I don’t see it working out anyway else because Chuuya is too hot headed to listen to my bs otherwise. Also also we’re just like two bastards who become bigger jerks when together<3 and I’m taller than Chuuya so<3333 he loves his tall gf fr. And like Chuuya and I support each other no matter what. Like even if the other is in wrong? Shut up, they’re right because I said so. We both help each other maintain stability towards each other tbh and like, a sense of routine and familiarity— and love buying each other gifts. Just like thrive off of that and yes. Small hc again because lol: he loves when I bake for him or better teach him, lke just gets that feel—and so to make up for it he teaches me how to ride his bike

I was gonna do hawks but I’ll keep it short and sweet lmao

please i love the way you have a whole ass backstoriesss <33 if i try to imagine a backstory i will be forced to write a fanfic out of it i have no self control.

also bae should i get into bsd 😭😭im traumatised is it like jjk???? i recently saw that dazai is dead GOJO DEAD DAZAI DEAD what is there left to live for 😞😞

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sillybillyboykisser · 1 year ago

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Hai ermmmmm mmmmmmmm goes feral (the worst intro you will ever see)

so im going to dwell on tumblr and whenever i remember it exists ill just be silly :33333 i already hav some stuff on here but letz forget that!!!lol /hj

i like stuff um like spongebob squarepants, object shows , jacksons diary, cherry crush, roblox, 8:11AND SO MUCH MOREEE (fun fact!!! i hav actually been watching sbsp since like. birth andd its my special interest along with object shows…jacksons diary might be too idk!!) but if you mention these or make art im bound to go crazyy lolzzz

dont show me gay people im INSANE im soooo silly i lovelovelove david n exer, (fire)floweafy, thomasflyswatter n gradient joe like bro im literally wild….if you dont like those ships or shipping in general then byebye

hey also dont have a dni because i know people are mean n weird and will interact anyways ,, i block freely and ALOT so. ya .. also im a minor so put that into your head. oh and tone tags are nice pls use them /gen/nf

ok i dont care to type the rest im lazy as hell just stare at this RENTRY hehehaha

#silly little guy #mogai safe #this is so real #literally #me when i cant control my silliness #i love gays because i am gay #autism #bunneepawzz #me irl #yes i am leafy from bfdi wtf #i might be others too but i am unsure…#spunch bop #floweafy is real because im leafy and yeah

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douknowanoah · 2 months ago

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SUPER DUPER LATE INTRODUCTION POST🎉🎉

[SUPER DUPER LATE INTRODUCTION POST]

Hi-llo!!! Welcome to my blog. Here’s some basic stuff about me. The rest is under the cut because no one likes scrolling 10k banana lengths (yes I am a redditor 🥲). Basically a Q&A. Have fun meeting the me!

What do I call you?!

For simplicity’s sake, call me Noah or some other variation of my username (douknowanoahnoah). Honestly, I don’t care. You can even call me dookie.. 🥲

Pronouns?

I’m alright with any out of she/he/they, but I do prefer she/her since I’m more used to it.

Activity Level?

I’ll be a little inactive (reposting mainly, and only posting little memes) on basically all my socials, not just Tumblr because I’ve gotten more into reading lately :D So if I disappear for a bit, im just getting all my happy brain chemicals from fanfic or published work

Blog Mood?

I’m not a serious blog. Everything here is very lighthearted. In the past I have posted about some serious subjects (personal overdose/drug abuse, therapy) but I try to smother it was humor to keep it low-key. I don’t post about that stuff often, if at all, anymore.

If you found this account from r/exfor from my abandoned Reddit account u/justNormi, then just beware that I posted about serious stuff on that account (self-harm) in case you’re sensitive to that sort of thing. I’m cautious about that part of life touching my tumblr, so it will most likely not be here

Fandoms?

Lately my blog has been more like a little diary for myself, but it started out as a place for me to post about my Expeditionary Force pirate AU (which I haven’t abandoned btw!! I’ve just been focusing on other things. I plan on continuing that AU in the future)

OK. No more rambling. Here’s a list of fandoms I’m into (but don’t necessarily post about)

- Expeditionary Force

- Starkid

- 9-1-1

- All For The Game

Issue is, I usually drop a fandom the second the original media ends or after I’m saturated myself in it too much. My interests revive after a while tho 👍

Expect fanart reblogs and occasional meta-analysis

Other Socials?

- AO3: douknowanoah

- To be added :D

Timezone?

Well I live in New York so Eastern Standard Time (EST). As of writing this, it’s 5:46 PM!

Blog Organization?

It’s currently not organized, but I’ll try to organize this sort of stuff in the future. My previous posts will not be organized because there’s just too many.

#personal -> bite-sized life updates, random thoughts, etc

#art -> reblogs of beautiful fanart and sometimes my own shit

#[fandom name] -> self-explanatory. Fandom specific stuff

#meme -> my own lazy memes or stuff I reblog

Wrap-Up

This blog is a safe-space for anyone who isn’t unsafe towards others (looking at you transphobes :/)

Sometimes I vanish for a while (more often recently) but I always come back like a stray cat.

Mutuales, feel free to tag me in things! Even if I don’t reply, it IS appreciated. I’m probably just overthinking what to say until it’s too late lol

The rest of this will just be random things about me so..

If you don’t want to read more, you can stop here. Thanks for reading!!

[IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ MORE, YOU CAN STOP HERE. THANKS FOR READING!!]

Hobbies?

READING 💯, writing, binge watching shows and fanfic, shopping

MBTI?

Last I checked, it was INTP or some other IN

Misc. Facts

I love denim jackets. I have ridiculously long hair (seriously, it reaches my upper thigh when wet). I like to eat Lays chips with Kraft cheese. I don’t have a numerical password.

I take 1-3 hour long showers. I chew my fingernails. I like to eat vanilla ice cream with the following toppings:

-Chocolate syrup

- Pepsi

- Jell-O powder

- plain cornflakes

Current obsession?

All For The Game by Nova Sakavic 💯 Who knew I’d fall in love with a gay trilogy about a fake sport and the mafia?

Current Songs on Repeat?

#intro post #introduction #blog intro #pinned intro #introductory post #Spotify

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selencgraphy · 7 months ago

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— 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔

PAIRING: James "Logan" Howlett x Ororo "Storm" Munroe

TAGS: logan pov (3rd person limited), days of future past main plotlines + rolo deleted scene (but add more sincerity to it), friends to lovers but we skipped all the good stuff (establish relationship), time skips bc i’m a lazy writer, a little self-deprecation, jean poking around logan's head without permission (it's mentioned for a sentence or two), ANGST, small changes to the end of dofp

A/N: ok im not a big rolo shipper but i was reminded of the existence of their deleted scene from dofp and i just HAD to write out what my brain come up with. i’ve never been a big fan of logan/jean anyways so i’ve also toned that down to further the rolo agenda that i’m pushing with this. it honestly isn’t too rolo centric bc, again, i have never been much of a rolo shipper until this idea popped into my brain and don't wanna butcher them too much but it works with the idea that their scene wasn’t cut from the movie. this is also pretty short bc i just wanted to write exactly what came to mind and i didn’t take much time to flesh the idea out. maybe i will in the future, who knows? i hope you like it <3 more x-men related fics are to come!

masterlist

"When I make it back—if I make it back," he started, struggling to keep eye contact with the woman in front of him. "I'm the only one who's gonna remember this."

If you had told him 15 years ago that the love of his life would be Ororo Munroe, he would've laughed in your face. Not that being with her was unimaginable. Never that. But Logan didn't have a good track record with the people he found himself in love with. Rose. Kayla. Jean.

Jean. She was never his to begin with but after he lost her, he'd sworn off ever getting attached to anyone ever again. The pain was too much and every time he lost someone, it wore down his soul. But somehow, she had managed to break down his walls and show him how to love again. That love was worth feeling and having even if it meant he'd lose her eventually too, but he didn't think he'd be in this position again so soon.

He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, his breath shaky as he took in the moment. He could save her—save everyone from the torment that wrought for the last decade or so. All the people they'd lost to a senseless war—he could bring them back. He would've stay here forever if he could. When she pulled away, she brought a hand to his cheek. "I won't have to miss you then," she whispered, a small smile on her face despite the heartbreak between them at the situation. Instantly, he rushed forward and pressed his lips against hers, tears slowly streaking down his face. When they pulled apart, he took a deep breath. “You got this," she whispered, tears slowly filling her own eyes before she walked away. It took everything in him to let her go. Gaining his composure, he wiped the stray tear away and made his way to where Charles, Erik, and Kitty were.

---

It'd been a hard couple of days. Who knows how long it's been for the people waiting with him 50 years from now? The fact that he was still here meant Kitty was still kicking, but much longer did they have left? He'd prevented Raven from being captured, but instead of making things better, it was as if he made it worse. Erik had betrayed them in Paris and Raven was still hellbent on killing Trask. Now he sat across from the younger version of Charles as they flew to Washington D.C in a desperate effort to stop Raven once and for all, reflecting on the present he was in and the future he was from. "Whatever happens today, I need you to promise me something. You've looked into my mind and you've seen a lot of bad, but... you've seen the good too. The X-Men. Promise me you'll find us." He hadn't thought of Jean and Scott in ages but the memory of them caused his chest to tighten. And Ororo. Oh, Ororo.

---

"So much for being a survivor."

It was times like these that his healing factor felt more like a curse than a blessing. He was in a perpetual state of drowning and Erik made sure he couldn’t save himself with the rebar he had curved throughout his body. He’d never gotten over the debilitation that came with being submerged in water. No matter how much time had passed, his mind still convinced itself that he was back in Stryker’s custody, drills and syringes holding him in place has his bones were replaced with metal. His mind bounced back in forth from the torture and to the people he came to call his family. He was supposed to fix the past so that everyone in the future could live. As he hit the bottom of whatever body of water he landed in, he couldn’t help but think they sent the wrong man back. Sure, he was the only one who could physically make the trip, but he was never the world saving type. He ruined things which is what he did here instead. As he faded into unconsciousness, there was only one thought on his mind. I’m sorry, Ro.

—

He woke up with a gasp. Where was he? Last thing he remembered he was drowning over and over again. He took a gander at his surroundings. It looked like his room—the room he had in the mansion. Was Charles able to do it? Getting up, he walked over to the mirror across the room. White streaks by his temples. Pulling his fist up, he pushed his claws out. Metal. He was back.

Just outside his door, he heard the hustle and bustle of children making their way down the hall. When he walked out the door, he caught the sight of Marie and Bobby hand-in-hand. If Marie was here, who else was back? The fullness of the mansion was overwhelming. As he walked the halls, the sight of familiar faces made his heart swell. The sight of Kitty and Peter teaching a class was a sight to see. Both of them were just kids the last time they were in the mansion. He never thought he’d see them standing where he once stood teaching another generation about the world’s history. As he turned to leave the doorway he stood at, his breath caught in his throat as Hank walked toward him. “Morning, Logan. Late start?”

He couldn’t say anything in response, too stunned by Hank’s mere presence. The further he walked through the house, he held back tears. He’d been able to do it. “Hi Logan,” a voice called from the top of the steps. He knew that voice. Another voice greeted him. “Logan.” It couldn’t be. As the two figures made their way down the steps and their silhouettes came into view, his heart dropped. There they were, hand-in-hand as if nothing bad had happened. "Because it never did," he reminded himself.

"Jean," he managed to choke out. "Scott?"

Scott scoffed, his eyebrows furrowing at Logan's usage of his actual name. "Scott? What's wrong with you today?"

Before he could answer, he felt something—someone poking around in his head. Shortly after, Jean was dragging Scott away, yelling a "See you later" over her shoulder followed by a quick hush as she dismissed Scott's questions. Then as the bell rang and the halls emptied as the kids ran off to the mess hall, he zoned in on the open door of the room he was looking for. The sight of her took his breath away. She looked the same as when he left her, now wearing an all-white pantsuit instead of the black stealth suit they both found themselves wearing more often than they'd liked in the old present. The old present. Were they even together in this new timeline? With Jean and Scott alive, did he ever get his head out of his ass? It was the war that brought them together after all. As he approached, he could only hope that this new version of him didn't fuck up like he had. Hearing his footsteps, she turned and greeted him with a smile. "Hey Logan."

"Ro..." He hadn't realized how off putting his actions would seem to everyone else until Ororo's face scrunched with worry. He was the only who remembered after all. "Are you okay?" The last time he saw her flashed in his mind.

I won't have to miss you, then.

You got this.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it is."

"Okay, well... I'll see you later?"

He nodded. Unsure of where they stood, he held himself back from pulling her against him. Today was just a normal day for everyone else. There wasn't a reunion for her to have. But then his worries washed away when she stopped and placed a quick kiss to his cheek as she departed. Somehow this win was bigger than getting all of the loved ones he had once lost back. Taking a second to compose himself, he walked further into Charles’ office. "Professor," he called out.

"Logan, don't you have a class to teach?"

"Class?" He taught here?

"Aye, history," the professor replied as he moved his chair around the desk.

"History?" How ironic. The man who lived through a past that, now, never happened was in charge of teaching children about a past he had no knowledge of. "Actually, I could use some help with that." Charles' eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Help with what? Last I checked alcohol shouldn't affect you to the point of memory loss let alone at all, Logan."

He chuckled at the other man's comfortability to joke around with him. After spending so much time with the professor's younger self, it was refreshing to be back in the presence of the man he grew to call family. "Everything after 1973 is a little foggy." At the mention of 1973, Charle's eyes widened. "I think the history I know is a little different."

"Well, I’ll be damned. Welcome back," the professor whispered. "You and I have a lot of catching up to do."

#logan howlett #logan howlett fic #logan howlett x ororo munroe #ororo munroe #xmen #xmen days of future past #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett angst

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zaptrap · 1 year ago

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i also want to ramble a tiny bit abt jay becuz yolo lmao it will also be under the cut (it's mostly replying to stuff u said) (sorry if there's typos)

Jay is such an interesting case of a character for me because I started out the show not liking him. Which is. Stares at my entire account I think my feelings have changed somewhat

DUDE SAME LIKE i barely even thought of jay and then ONE DAY something just? changed?? and ive been obsessed with jay ever since (i wanna say it was either ep8 or rebooted but honestly who knows at this point). like i still love cole, and my 2 favs being besties is so cute 🥺, but jays just like a lil rat and i lov him... Although I do wonder if my favs would be different if i'd gotten into the show at a different time, like if i'd had more time with newer seasons and less nostalgia chaining me to the older ones lmao.

I FORGOT THYE DID THAT TO LLOYD LMAOOOOO THAT POOR KID.... THAT WAS PROBABLY THE 3rd MOST TRAUMATIZING THING FOR HIM AT THE TIME, after his mom leaving him and his dad becoming lego satan

but over the course of the show you can see him start developing into a much more interesting character. He goes from being so insecure he's faking everything about himself to someone who knows who he is and is so genuine about it

dude i love characters who put on a mask/act to hide their problems its so fun digging into why they do that and whats the mask and what isnt and what masks are used for who and how people react to them and etc etc

now yea we could argue about whether his character was too uwu-ified post-season 10 but this is the FUN HAN POST SO WE'RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT

jokes on you we ARE TALKING ABOUT THAT, MUHUAHAHAHAHAHA. my personal headcanon is that he just mellowed out after getting older and engaged lmao. or maybe its just his ✨latest persona✨ he's trying out or smth. the whole uwu-jay thing is really funny to me cuz both "whiny comedic relief bastard" and "uwu babu" are some of my fav archetypes in characters so the fact that jay gets to be both is like "yay! 2 cakes!" LMFAO. it was fun seeing him be a lil shit again in DR tho

(i was gonna grab a screenshot for that like i did with the hunted scene but netflix has bloCKED THE ABILITY TO TAKE SCREENSHOTS THE WAY I USED TO and i don't have them already and i'm too lazy to grab them from elsewhere so alas trust me he says it)

(netflix is so annoying dude like omfg)

i don't have any comments on the skybound-to-prime empire pipeline stuff, its all interesting stuff owo. emotional security+role model arc...

Also how was [jay] supposed to know literally all the rest of the groups parents were either dead, presumed dead, or had a toxic relationship with their kid lmao

Jay: ugh parents SUCK am i right? Everyone else: you have parents?

Jay's just fallen from the sky with a messed up eye and is incredibly distraught that all his friends are captured. And his dad just. The woRLD IS FALLING APART AND HE'S EATIN' SOUP-

LMFAO what ep was this from, im assuming skybound?

yea i think that's enough for a tumblr post anyways! If anyone wants any like. More logically thought out and direct thoughts about characters feel free to send me asks this was fun thank u zaptrap for this opportunity to scream about jay

you're very welcome! now make another 🔫/lh also i like how you wrote an entire additional essay in the tags LOL. idk what season lives rent free in my brain but its probably rebooted cuz...well yknow 😂. i like the scifi seasonssssss

---

I do wonder how Jay's gonna be in DR though like, he went from "insecure bastard" to "actually im ok" to "stuck in an eternal office" so like, is he gonna relapse?? does he just need some fresh air?? is nya gonna show up and all his problems are solved??? is he just, still ok but tired from gaming office "work"???? who can say. dude though, with nya already being sora's mentor, and jay already being an inventor, i could totally see them eventually just being her new parents. that'd be so fukin cute 🥺🥺🥺taking in a stray cat

god like there just isnt enough to definitively determine what's up with jay in DR. theres SO many reasons he could be ornery, between the office and annoying coworkers and presumably not seeing nya for what, 5 years????????????????????????????? wait has it actually been 5 years, icr if they ran into each other sooner or not. i think nya said smth about- ok yeah she did [DR1 ep4]

dude what happened to her the past 5 years

ramble about ur favs i wanna hear abt ur thoughts -zaptrap

HAN’S INFODUMPING ABOUT JAY... START!!!!

so like sgdkdhdkdhd I say Jay and Lloyd are my “favorites” but honestly it’s so hard to pick favorites out of this skittles squad like I love EVERY character for a variety of different reasons. I was going to also infodump about Lloyd but then I started talking about Prime Empire and then this post got. Long. So. it's just Jay I may infodump about Lloyd another day especially since I'm very Conduit Brained Rn but yea yea!

this is long so i'm putting most of it under the cut so y'all don't kill me for making a huge long post

I considered putting Zane and Sora on here as well since I’d also consider them my “favs” but like this is already gonna be. A lot of. Infodumping (also i typed THIS part before I even started and decided not to yell about Lloyd because this already got long enough). Maybe I’ll make a separate post for those two hmm hmm much to consider but for now MY (technically) FAVORITE NINJAGO CHARACTER: JAY WALKER

THE SPARKPLUG WHO INVADED MY BRAIN LIKE A PARASITE

so hey his name is a pun this makes me laugh ridiculously hard every time I remember he is named. After a misdemeanor HSKSHDKFH

Jay is such an interesting case of a character for me because I started out the show not liking him. Which is. Stares at my entire account I think my feelings have changed somewhat

Jay starts out as an asshole I don’t think anyone can disagree with me there (although honestly they’re all assholes in early ninjago they bullied a ten year old and left him dangling several feet off the ground) but over the course of the show you can see him start developing into a much more interesting character. He goes from being so insecure he's faking everything about himself to someone who knows who he is and is so genuine about it

now yea we could argue about whether his character was too uwu-ified post-season 10 but this is the FUN HAN POST SO WE'RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT the point is you can SEE the growth that Jay has gone through and I am going to show you that growth through what I call

✨ The Skybound to Prime Empire Effect ✨

I AM SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THE IDEA THAT PRIME EMPIRE WAS WRITTEN TO BE A DIRECT PARALLEL OF SKYBOUND AND WAS CENTERED ON SHOWING HOW THE NINJA ESPECIALLY JAY HAVE GROWN THROUGHOUT THE SEASON

when season 12 rolls around we are at the point in Jay's development where he is CONFIDENT in who he is. He's a fun-loving jokester with the power of lightning and the drive to help people whenever he can. He uses jokes and humor to help alleviate tension and get people through whatever's happening. And when on his own what does he do?

BECOME AN ENTERTAINER BABEY

i like to think jay's club in prime empire was a safe haven for anyone stuck in the game who figured out hey. we Can't Leave and felt freaked about it. Also Jay would generally try and spread the word that hey something ISN'T RIGHT HERE which would lead people to want to stay with him

(totally plugging my friend's fic but this kind of thing is explored in would you like to enter prime empire by @finn-m-corvex y'all should check it out cool cool)

also the prime empire shorts which i watched all of in the midst of typing this video cuz i love them go watch them please please please jay was publically fighting the red visors which I imagine may have raised some red flags for some players

THIS SOMEHOW TURNED INTO PRIME EMPIRE INFODUMPING LMAO ANYWAYS Jay's confident! He becomes an entertainer because it's who he knows he is! And it's something that will get people hyped and having fun, which is very in-character for Jay to do! He uses those kinds of things to mask the Bad Things going on and get people remembering what's good

I've talked about this sort of thing before but that's Jay's whole philosophy as early as season 9! Which is a DIRECT contrast to how he views it in season 6, as Nadakhan puts it scarily accurately

"You make jokes to mask the fact that you're afraid"

making jokes to hide your fear and using humor to remind yourself of what's good and coping with the bad are two VERY different outlooks on it

so I think this outlook is what drives him to make this glamrock persona in the first place - this is a bad situation, one he's in with other civilians, and what better way to keep him and themself safe until the others get there than throwing a big performance at a safe place!

also it's just so gender okay I want to look like Superstar Rockin' Jay so badly

it's also interesting to see his outlook on his parents change over time! In season six he finds out Ed and Edna aren't his birth parents and feels upset about it, not understanding why his birth parents would've abandoned him. In season twelve, that outlook changing is EXACTLY why Jay's able to get through to Unagami

"I was abandoned by my parents, too!... I never understood why, and I never had the chance to even ask. But I always hoped there was a good reason. What if there's a reason?"

(again curse you netflix i wanted SCREENSHOTS whatever whatever)

It's this scene that gets Unagami to calm down long enough for Milton Dyer to get there, and presumably is what stops him from just. Flattening him and Jay like a pancake.

to piggyback off of this i absolutely adore how Unagami and Jay consider each other adopted brothers in that one book I still haven't read and I hope he's in Dragons Rising at some point Unagami is my favorite "villain" (no longer a villain) in the whole show he deserves more screentime

like this is where i found out about this and it's plagued my mind ever since. i need to read. this book just for them

SO YEA OKAY Prime Empire is "Who is Jay as a Person Post-Skybound" to me also it opens up so many fascinating things about Jay. I rest my case

so backpedaling a little bit. JAY CARES SO MUCH ABOUT HIS PARENTS GUYS IT'S SO SOFT AND I'M sobs

like yea the first episode with Ed and Edna in it has Jay avoiding them like the plague but this gets explained very easily when you remember he was bullied for his home life before he became a ninja. It makes a lot more sense why he wouldn't want them around his new friends, assuming they'd react the same way. Also how was he supposed to know literally all the rest of the groups parents were either dead, presumed dead, or had a toxic relationship with their kid lmao

(Cole calling his mom kills me. Cole's mom is dead. I know they probably just didn't think that far ahead when writing the dialogue but it's so funny mans pretended to call his dead mom to get on Jay for not appreciating his parents iconic behavior)

anyways literally every episode Ed and Edna are central to (except like the one in skybound) Jay stops at nothing to protect his parents and it means the absolute world to me he's so much like them!! They raised an inventive little nerd and he will stop at nothing to make sure they're safe and it's. It's SO IMPORTANT TO ME OKAY

ALSO this is an excuse to clip my favorite piece of dialogue possibly in the entire show. Except Netflix won't let me now. So you just get the text dialogue

Jay's just fallen from the sky with a messed up eye and is incredibly distraught that all his friends are captured. And his dad just. The woRLD IS FALLING APART AND HE'S EATIN' SOUP-

Ed i love you

anyways

anways anyways this just turned into me rambling about prime empire and then Ed and Edna and a lot of disjointed other stuff but thank you for this opportunity i was going to also ramble about lloyd but i put this post in a word count and

#talking #jay #jay walker #misc #my area of rambling expertise is hypotheticals and AUs vs analysis of concrete info lol

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