#please know i am doing MUCH better now and have put some distance-figuratively and literally-between myself and the fam

[safyresky]

Frostmas Year 6: Behind the Scenes

Prologue | Y1 | Y2 | Y3 | Y4 | Y5 | Y6 | Y7 | Y8 | Y9 | Y10 | Y11 | Y12

[To Read Frostmas: From the TOP on ao3 | ff dot net]

Holy shit. Year SIX. This one was a DOOZY and NOT for the reasons you think. For those who don't know, the year it was published (2016) was deffs one of if not THE worst year I'd had. 2023 was brutal too but 2016 was fifty shades of FUCKED UP.

Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one with a whole ass diary entry before we even GET to the proper BTS notes!

I was having a bad go of it in general because:

I was forced, after a year out of my parent's house and half a summer away, to move back for the next summer and that was a terrible environment at the time

(it still is but I have had THERAPY and have COPING MECHANISMS and RESOURCES and I know HOW to take myself OUT of the pattern and that walking away ISN'T a bad thing)

(still have ways to go, espesh after last year, BUT WE WILL GET THERE)

My mom essentially strong armed me into working with her for the summer and I fucking HATED IT

I wanted to find a job here in KTown and stay away but she managed to set me up with a job and I couldn't take no for an answer because I had just gotten back from the UK and I had SO MUCH TRIP RELATED DEBT TO PAY OFF, AND NOBODY IN KTOWN HAD CALLED ME BACK!

Richard was away in Europe for half the summer and we had our first really big test of the relationship (AND WE DID IT WE MADE IT THRU)

I finally had had eNOUGH of cramps that were almost killing me dead and decided to go on the pill, but getting the right dosage/brand was a TIME and it seemed every one I tried made me want to straight up DIE

If ANYONE is ever like "oh, Birth Control Pills don't make you depressed" THEY ARE. LYING. Some do!

All of this was one thing, but the pièce de résistance was this: my laptop fucking DIED. It FELL off a KITCHEN PENINSULA, ONTO A STONE FLOOR HARD DRIVE SIDE DOWN.

It blue screened. Then black screened. And would not boot up. And my writing wasn't saved to the cloud bc the cloud kept draining my laptop battery (she was old), so I was saving locally.

I lost everything.

All of Crystal Springs, all of my notes, old WIPS, and all of the progress I had made on Frostmas Y6 at the time (and I had just cracked out like 3k the week before!) and the Winter's Birthday oneshots. Not to mention, my photos from the last 5 years up to that point! And while I did manage to recover Frostmas and make it BETTER than it was before, Winter's Birthday is still hanging by the wayside and this was almost a DECADE ago! There are STILL photos I lost that I will NEVER get back bc the hard drive itself is FUCKED!

So the wait between Y5 and Y6 was nearly 3 years. Almost as long as the wait for Y11 is shaping up to be, though that's for whole other reasons! My laptop did NOT fall and I save everything to the cloud now, I'VE LEARNED.

Anyway, I managed to recoup most of my loses but I did lose: a soulmate au wip, a baby Dite wip before she was developed more as a character and became Hedone, Winter's bday outline, a rewrite of an old fic I thought had potential (so I decided to rewrite it for my me to enjoy), old Jacqueline and CHARLIE shipping oneshots if you can BELIEVE it (one of which was HELLA ANGSTY and involved him DYING of old age and her trying to avoid him about it) and I think Into the Shadows? It was still up at the time tho so I was able to download it and my other stories from fanfiction dot net and I sorta. Started back up from where I left off.

And I HATE to say this bc it SUCKED so much (I was a mess, I couldn't even explain to my parents why I was so upset—I mean, how do you? How do you explain to your emotionally immature parents that you had built this entire little world that ended up being your way of healing your traumas, made so many amazing friends from it, and had just lost all of that because THEY were FIGHTING? How do you cope when your own Mother says "I can't deal with you when you're like this" as you are BAWLING your EYES OUT at this loss, and she straight up WALKS OUTSIDE TO SIT IN A LAWN CHAIR AND AVOID YOU INSTEAD OF COMFORT YOU AND TRY TO HELP YOU EXPLAIN THINGS? AND YOU'RE NOT QUITE 21 YET? AND YOU'RE ALREADY HAVING SUCH A SHIT TIME?), but it's true: after the laptop fell, my writing took an ASTOUNDING upswing! It improved SO MUCH! And Dite became Hedone and had a more developed back story that made SENSE and Frostmas Y6 turned out WAY BETTER THAN IT WAS and I managed to plot out the rest of the Years (I had not written down notes for what would happen until halfway through Y6! By June 2016, about 3 months post-harddrive gate, Y12 notes were DONE) and I only went UP FROM THERE

But it still SUCKED to deal with all of that.

I felt so bad that Y6 took so long to go up, and when I did post it and it was (checks notes) 14,206 words (we'll see if that changes as I read through it and prep it for cross posting next week) I decided to put the AN in my profile and wrote this at the very top of Year 6:

A/N-14,206 words sans these blurbs. Sorry for the length, and for the delay! I have the explanation on my profile page, under the PSA and Frostmas Year Six AN. Please enjoy this mess of a year! Here is a previously on Frostmas for your convenience: Previously: Jacqueline revealed her decision to freeze as a farce. She showed Bernard and they decided to test it on Jack, who seemingly accepted it. Jack made a deal with Jacqueline for bygones to be bygones, so she could stay at the Pole and help him instill some order. Instead she, aided by the Elves, sabotages the Pole, deciding to be Jack Frost in all ways—including the pain-in-Santa's-neck way. Jacqueline takes to exploring the Workshop when she's not following Santa around, and discovers an old area, stumbling upon Jack's secret rooms…and making a shocking discovery.

I EVEN INCLUDED A PREVIOUSLY! BC I THOUGHT IT HAD BEEN THAT LONG! I think a few reviewers mentioned having to go back to reread so I figured this'd be way more convenient for them! :) (And me too, tbh)

The A/N in the chapter was as follows:

A/N-You can see my full author's note on my profile, I think this chapter was long enough. Thank you for reading it! Please please PLEASE do review! I cannot begin to tell you how much going back to these reviews helped me keep writing Year Six and getting over the hump. I look very forward to your thoughts! And thank you all for your patience :D PS-The breathing trick is legit. Try it, it works wonders.

And the long one I put on my profile RIGHT AT THE TOP for people to see and read it (bc I really didn't wanna bog people down with what was going on in my life. FUNNY bc nowadays I get on hellsite dot faesite and I'm like BUCKLE UP COWPOLKS BECAUSE YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT BULLSHIT HAPPENED TO ME TODAY) was as follows:

Frostmas Year Six AN: My heart is racing, I finished year six like 10 minutes ago (1:48 AM December 16th, 2016) and it is 14188 words. I am honestly so sorry about the length and hope that if anything, it is at least a decent apology for the long break in updates. Year Six took me much longer than I should've to write, because I had to rewrite the bit of Year Six that I already had written prior to the death of my laptop. I started rewriting it when I got mad at myself for being so sad in August, but then ran out of steam and just couldn't do it because I kept comparing it to what I remembered having already written, and thought that it was not as good as it originally was and never would be. It wasn't until I got back to my home (i was staying at my parents house which is never a Fun Time), fixed my prescription and began taking the time I needed to help myself feel better (seriously my Summer was a train wreck) that I was able to slowly trudge through what I began to call the hump—everything I had already written and had to rewrite. After getting through the semester, in November I began planning the Years again. And I was determined to get through the hump. I had already written stuff for Year SEVEN and had Year Eight basically written in full in note form. I just had to get through the hump. And so by the first week of December, I did it! And then just had all the new content to write...which was a LOT especially because Jacqueline decided to break into Bernard's house! I promise, Year Seven won't be as delayed as Year Six. And I really hope you enjoyed all 14k of that Chapter! And most importantly thank you for sticking around this long, it really means a lot to me :D

And my heart WAS racing. I cannot begin to describe to you guys how it felt, after ALL OF THAT BULLSHIT IN THE SPRING/SUMMER, finally seeing Y6 go up after ALL the struggle. My god. I was flying high. I may have cried. I was so, so relieved and so, SO proud of it and let's get into this behind the scenes now to see if I still am proud of it—survey says yes, I think I will be!

And thank you for reading this lengthy prelude to the Y6 BTS. NOW, without FURTHER ado, THE BTS FOR THE INTRO AND ON!

--

Intro

Okay so the decision to have, not only Jack almost discover her, but her parents also discover her dumbass plan, was brilliant on my part

The DRAMA this 900 word intro has! AH!

It didn't even need much work—just a bit of sentence spacing and some awkward turns of phrase fixed and that's that on that!

I can definitely tell I was marathoning Doctor Who for the first time at this point, given Jacqueline's repetitive "I'm so, so sorry"'s as she is RUNNING AWAY from very confused Blinter

Who promptly give her space after THAT

I'm not sure how she managed to avoid them through to FEBRUARY tbh

ALSO it just occurred to me. Upon rereading. Jacqueline being like AM TRAPPED! Oh wait. I'm MAGICAL is a clever bit of foreshadowing on my end for the REST of Y6 lol

It's funny, reading this a wee bit older I'm like. WOW. I feel so bad for blinter—they're trying so, SO hard and poor Jacqueline! She knows she could go to them but she is so, so afraid

I'm a WORDSMITH

Anyway. Onto scene 1!

Scene 1: You won't be in trouble, I swear! Jack lied.

Because he totally did. He is a liar. (smacks head of Santa Jack) this baby can fit SO much malice in him

I wonder if he waited for Jacqueline to be around just to try and catch her up. I'm gonna say he deffs did. And that I totally planned that (I did not)

In terms of references, there isn't a lot! this whole scene is msotly me being a Bernard stan in the "I love the way he acts with the elves and how he cares about them all and how he is able to placate a huge crowd every god damned time", not the usual "I want this elf" kind of way

I do not want him. I want to see him grow strong and be safe and that's that on that

And I also want to see him bug Jacqueline. And be bothered back in return lol

BUT YEAH I really love Bernard as a character, espesh the leadership bits. the scene in tsc2 where he talks to the elves? the smooth, nervous cadence and silly "and do not use the word "plastic" bit? This blorbo has EVERYTHING—anxiety, sass, jokes, AND great public speaking/charisma skills!

So this whole like. Getting into gear bit? SUPER fun to do.

Especially with him consistently not letting Jacqueline say HEY MAN HE'S BRINGING BACK THE FUCKING THEME PARK IDEA! Writing her get consistently more and more irritaited and frustrated was delightful >:)

The BIG bit here is CURTIS!

So like. He gets all. Manager-y and very into his role when we see him at the Theme Park in the Frostmas bit in the movie, right? So the whole time I wrote this I was like, okay. How does Curtis get from wanting to help and be progressive to capitalist hellscape master? How?

And that's where this bit came in—along with the list reading bit back in Year 2? 3?

Which is why, when Jack is like "hmm I need to keep track of theme park related things without giving it away—ah yes! Curtis!" is what comes to mind

And why he's so ACTIVE in the Resort, you know? If that makes sense. Idk, I wrote this bit at 3am.

BUT YEAH. CURTIS IS A LIL GUY. JUST A LIL GUY. TRYING TO DO HIS BEST! AND NOT EXPLODING!

Scene 2: A cold front heart-to-heart

Jacqueline and privacy. Hehe. I loved carrying that bit over from CS.

She's awful, just. BARGING in places with little to no warning!

I'm sure she'll mellow out with age

Unless you are Jack

She'll probably bug him forever.

ANYWAY.

This scene DID need a little reworking! Jack read as slightly OOC and there was some weird repetitiveness. Which checks out—this scene was the scene I wrote days before the laptop ko'd

This scene also felt like what I imagine an elaborate game of chess feels like. Trying to think of what Jack does and doesn't know, and what Jacqueline does and doesn't know, and both their motives, ALL WHILE WRITING FROM JACQUELINE'S POV? My god. Brain exploded

But it reads much better now! Their motivations are way more clear!

Poor Mason. He's a good kid! Unfortunately for the plot to continue on I needed SOMEONE to come forward to get their ass FROZEN

It's funny bc like, reading it again (and I don't think I ever reread this chapter after posting it! I think this is my first time since it originally was written reading it again!) the ideas were THERE! Just…not fully formed. And given everything I was going through slash dealing with at the time, that checks out.

Scene 3: NO RUNNING IN THE WORKSHOP

I briefly had this whole dilemma about if Jack freezing the elves was Too Much. Then I remembered a number of things: he canonically freezes two whole ass people. He tells Lucy he's had people beg him to freeze people for them. The whole POINT of putting him post-Frostmas and post-tsc3 in a redemption arc is to show CHANGE so YES, mans could, would, and has frozen people before and will do it again

or in this case, make Jacqueline do it

and of course she'd agree to it bc. y'know. she's trying to keep her cover going and what happens if she says no? and gets banished? then what? what will Jack do?!?!

she's caught in quite the conundrum, isn't she?

anyway I remember when I wrote this scene I wasn't expecting Judy to pop into the scene but she did and I kinda like that that's how it went

Jacqueline ending the section saying "B-Man location secured" I think is also me reminding myself what the purpose of this scene was, lol

Scene 4: Bernard's Office

not me doing the bts read-through and realizing that Jacqueline acts like she had 0 idea Mason was there, when Judy JUST TOLD HER he was heading that way. FIXED, LOL.

I am referring to the carnival in Quebec when Jacqueline says LIKE QUEBEC. I've been a handful of times and the ice/snow sculptures ALWAYS got me. They're gorgeous.

The breathing trick was the very first one I learnt that year (for obvious reasons lol) and it worked every time! I was excited to use it and share it as it'd been helping me quite a bit. Twas one of the ah, early tumblr mental health posts I had seen AGES ago!

“It’s too bad we can’t take Mason and push him somewhere else,” Curtis mused.

^This is a meme reference, yes indeed!

"I’m not great at clandestine operations," Jacqueline says, as I yell through the screen, "YOU AIN'T SLICK GIRLIE! YOU! AIN'T! SLICK!"

(she's really not)

"An airline? Like planes? Air planes? In the frostbitten sky? He bought an airline?!”

This is a NEWLY ADDED reference! From this post :)

Believe it or not, Bernard saying "wait and see" was NOT a reference to Mr. Gaiman's famous refrain regarding Good Omens spoilers—but I thought it was hella funny with that context rereading it in 2024 now lol. (It originally went up late 2016!)

The evidence bit is new too—makes much more sense now, why they lollygag enough for Jack to initiate Lockdown lol.

I GOTTA BE THREE STEPS AHEAD OF TEAM JACQUELINE AND FOUR STEPS AHEAD OF SANTA JACK

IT'S A STRUGGLE

Hence the long gaps between years, too, it's a LOT of info to churn through and back referencing and such

but damn if it isn't a fun project >:)

Scene 5: Time Out/Lockdown

So this is where I picked up POST laptop falling. I could only recover Year 6 up to the office scene, I believe

What I lost? A whole scene after it where I had written nearly 1400 words about this whole subplot I had in mind involving how Jacqueline's frozen elves would look more sculpture like than Neil and Laura did when Jack frosted them up

There was this whole bit about her lamenting on how it looked different, more opaque, and Jack would be able to see right through it (pun intended on my part) because he'd KNOW it wasn't done properly, the way he did it? I think it involved a story about a frozen squirrel?

I had started writing it, went back and read it, went "huh this makes no sense"

Moved on the plotting out Winter's bday before bed

The next day I stationed myself in my parent's kitchen, and before I could even LOOK at the document and what I'd done before, my laptop crash landed on the stone floor

yeah

ANYWAY I obvi AXED that scene, it wasn't making sense then and when I finally got back into it, I didn't even BOTHER attempting to recreate it, just skipped it and went right into the freeze day

anyway, I'd like to take this moment to recognize Mason. He is taking this like a CHAMP!

I'd always pictured him as one of the elves in Porkchop's squad, lol

"Get my nose right" is a Tangled reference, lol. Fun fact! It's one of my top 3 disney princess movies (the other two are Moana and Princess and the Frog :)

I just strongly relate to Rapunzel (given the mom-nanigans I mentioned in the diary entry before this you can see why) and Eugene makes me laugh and the soundtrack SLAPS

Kingdom Dance? HELLO?!?!?!? THE MUSIC AND THE ENTIRE STORY TOLD IN THE SCENE IN THE SCORE? AH

okayokay. frostmas time

Perhaps one day I will write the little silly thing that explains why Jacqueline insists Jack taught her everything despite not being around for most of her formative years! Maybe one day :)

Lockdown is also NOT a reference to OS CORONAS. This predates that, too, lol. It was an idea I'd been sitting on for Into the Shadows (Dark Shadows at the time), and I was excited to use it (and have Jack abuse it) in Frostmas!

I had to keep Jacqueline from going to the Council, after all!

“Because it’s exactly what I would’ve done.” The full impact of what he said hit as he turned around, surveying me with an unreadable look. “And you did it.” I came to a grounding stop, my heart falling in my chest. Jack chuckled quietly to himself. “Exactly. Now, I’ve got tons to do! We will chit chat later, Jacqueline—I’ll make sure your rooms are done up for your stay. Ciao!” And, shooting me a smile and double finger guns he disappeared, leaving me alone in the corridor as the crushing weight of what I had just done—and what I had agreed to do—came falling down on me. I stood in the hallway, motionless. The sounds of the chaos of the Workshop dulled before disappearing completely, nothing but a white noise as the world faded out from me and I realized that yes, Jack would've done it. And I had done it. I was turning into Jack.

NOW WE'RE COOKING WITH GAS! THIS IS THE GOOD SHIT! THIS IS WHAT FROSTMAS IS ALL ABOUT BABY! WOO!

Writing this scene was so fun. Jack's little villain monologue after he figured he'd one? EXCELLENT. I'll take two, please.

Scene 6 (5.5 really): BREAKING INTO B-MAN'S HOUSE

I couldn't believe Jacqueline did this, lmao. But I absolutely LOVED it

What's breaking and entering to a sprite who does not give a shit about privacy on a good day? 🤭🤭🤭

This whole brandy bit is once again brought to you in part by how much I love love love Just An Elf, and am once again STRONGLY ENCOURAGING YOU GO AND READ IT. They're such good oneshots, my GOD! PRIME B-Man characterization and I will shout it to the moon and BACK

"Point being, you wouldn't have frozen them. See? That's the thing. You're not Jack. You're Jacqueline. You think and act differently from Jack, and that's what makes you you"

Bernard is out here spitting facts that take Jacqueline a whopping 12 plus years to learn 🫠🫠🫠

"It's what friends are for"

Oh my god I have some fun BTS for this. Okay, so, I NEVER planned for Jacqueline and BMan to be buds. In earliest drafts of CS (and I'm talking EARLY, the notes I made while posting MtF early) the MOMENT Bernard clocked Jacqueline he'd march her to Santa like LOOK WHAT THE POLAR BEAR DRAGGED IN

But THEN Jacqueline managed to invade shittyelfwriter's brain and made her way into Rules of Engagement (The Emissary Clause, at the time) and she and BMan like, vibed in that fic

So THEN I assumed they became pals after all THIS in Frostmass, right? And had this whole passage initially showing that yeah they had become friends because of this, and it came over into Crystal springs and that's why they were so buddy buddy

But man. The more I wrote them, the more I went "B-Man wouldn't look at Jacqueline and judge her because of Jack. He just WOULDN'T."

And then When Bernard Met Jacqueline happened (I really oughta post that to ao3!) and I realized okay, they've. They've been friends for a hot minute

SO upon crossposting to ao3, I have properly edited this WHOLE PART to just further underline how much of a TIME Jacqueline is having

Forgets she has a whole ass friend

Also has had a rough go of it with friends growing up, but that's neither here nor there right now lol. She explains it well enough in the next bit and of course, I myself had to tease her about the Dite thing :)

I am once again mentioning Elle and her status as ??? purposely to hurt shittyelfrwriter >:) it's okay tho it's a friendship stab, don't worry about it! :D

Sleepy Jacqueline just happened this edit. I don't know why, but I love it. It had me wheezing. "hot diggity dog" lmao

Newfies comment: fun Canada fact for you: most of the stereotypical accent, the HEAVY one, is because in Newfoundland and the Maritimes they sound like that, lol.

We sound sorta like that here too the farther away you get from Toronto! A lot of my friends in uni were from small Letterkenny towns so they have that Canadian lilt going on and now I find myself sounding more like that some days too 😅

Scene 6 (for real): Plan Time

"My hair a half frozen, half thawed mess": FUN FACT! This is the first in your face hint I've dropped at the freeze becoming real! Were she fully thawed, her hair would be the next day too...but it's not 👀👀👀

The TUNNELS! I've always thought they had tunnels under the Pole, and I've read a few fics where they do, and it's one of my favourite tropes in this fandom so I used it for Frostmas! :D

Also a gr8 excuse to drop CS lore re: Kringle Elves >:)

Scene 7: Dig a tunna, dig dig a tunna~

I started condensing things when I got to this point bc it was at the time approaching 15k and that was way too long by my books at the time

Now, post refinements for ao3/2024 glow up, it's a solid 21.6k words

WHOOPS!

I didn't even add anything crazy new! Just dialogue!

The mental image of Jacqueline, Bernard, Curtis, Quinitin, and Mason tossing pencils and shit into the ring and nothing happening is hilarious

The mental image of Jacqueline conjuring a little snowy guy, and gesturing to the elf ring, and it standing there like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ is somehow funnier (and new!). I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did :)

For all you non-metric system users: 5km is equal to about 3 miles, I believe.

Scene 8: in which Bernard comes up with a brilliant idea that Jacqueline simply cannot resist acting on >:)

On that note, I vaguely recall doing a HECK of a lot of research to see how feasible it was for 5 magibeans to be able to dig one kilometre with just shovels mostly

I don't remember my results at all. I remember chatting with my housemates and with the husbando about it and the conclusion I came to was "yeah. makes sense" or "SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF" if it was my friend near!

Which is a good lesson we should all keep in mind when reading fantasy/sci-fi and fiction and the like in general. Anyway

Jacqueline is losing her mind digging, I'm losing mine writing this whole thing, we are ONE

Scenes 9-whatever: In which Jacqueline does her own version of Super Giant's hit rogue like dungeon crawl Hades

Oh this was the BEST montage I ever got to write. EVER. I genuinely don't think I could top this!

I did tidy it up/refine it! I added more dialogue so Jack was in character and increased Jacqueline's annoying Jack stat tenfold! VERY fun to write!

Needed to do some slapstick bc it's fun to slapstick Jack

Jacqueline HAD to extract revenge bc her snow cloud ideas was GREAT (I concur)

This whole myriad of scenes had me thinking of what ways my siblings really annoyed me and turning the dial UP on them as I wrote Jacqueline's bits, lol.

YER A BLIZZARD, SANTA is an outdated reference to YER A LIZERD, HARRY. I really should like, axe it, but it makes me giggle. Anyway, jay kay arr sucks and Jacqueline Winter Frost HERSELF said TRANS RIGHTS, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

Candyland, I am proud of myself for THAT reference

Half of writing Frozen?Jacquie is me trying to think of the most JACK LIKE THING she could say, and then having her say it

Foolproof formula, 10/10 would recommend.

"The physical appearance of the please makes no difference, Jacqueline.”

Despicable Me reference, It's one of the husbando's fave movies and that is my fave line in it I think, and there are a lot of bangers tbh

Jacqueline would think stopping snow was an actual crime

Her least favourite movie is probably Frosty Returns bc of the asshole adults who make the snow-be-gone spray and try to murder frosty with it and also, all the lovely SNOW

also, did not mean to indirectly quote frozen in this last bit? But the "it's a green christmas everywhere. EVERYWHERE?!" bit is really giving "You kinda made it Winter everywhere. Everywhere?!?!"

Hallmarkian isn't a word but I will damn well MAKE IT a word

And finally! She escapes!

And I leave you with this fact: Jack only lets her go because in his heart of hearts he knows it's too late. She can come and go, but nobody else can—she can tell everyone what happened, what's going on, but only she can go in and out. So what can they do? Nothing, tbh

I explained this bit to the husbando and he was like >=O that SUCKS. That's SO frustrating

That's the point >:)

Oh how fast a glimmer of hope can be snuffed out.

ANYWAY! If you read all the way to the bottom, thank you! It means a lot. Enjoy the BTS, the Dani lore, and enjoy the freshly swept Frostmas! I'm gonna try to actually have Y7 up on the 13th of July, lol, but we'll see how that goes. Trying not to rush but I just. THE AESTHETIC, YOU KNOW? I MISS POSTING ON THE 13TH!

[kyovtani]

𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 | 𝒌𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒖

✗ pairing: kuroo tetsurou x female reader

✗ genre: smut, like just smut, lit nothing but smut; absolute filth but still classy so it's fílth anyway; established relationship!AU

✗ word count: 4.1k+

✗ warnings: swearing, heavy dumbification and degradation, mean/hard (to soft) dom!kuroo, DD/LG (d*ddy dom / little girl), mentions of jealousy and slight possessive behavior, orgasm denial, p*ssy slapping, some spanking, praising, ch*king, impregnation, some c*m play, car s*x, (a little bit of) cute aftercare

– A/N: Happiest Birthday to my fave scorpio boy in HQ!! This is an old fic of mine which I wrote about a year ago and as I thought about it, Kuroo does fit the concept really well and since I’m a little busy writing smth new, I thought why not reuse this big boy! I hope you guys enjoy this one and please feel free to leave feedback of any kind if you did!!

x all the love, zade.

✗ summary: your boyfriend is sweet, caring and oh so soft, so you decide it’s time to make him lose his composure...

It takes a lot to make Kuroo switch from his soft, caring demeanor to his hard dom persona because after everything, he remains a patient man.

He puts your pleasure above anything else; your body a temple for him to worship and take care of with every part of his being.

However, sometimes, no matter how much you love your sweet, loving boyfriend, you find yourself growing a little bored of his constant softness; your desires going further than just being choked and called kitten.

You want Kuroo to absolutely destroy you, to put it as simple as possible. The guttural desire to have him use you for his own pleasure, claim you in the most intimate ways possible and every now and then your body craves this certain type of pleasure; the one which lays pretty close to pure pain.

Led by your body’s deep desire, you find yourself seeking methods which might not be the morally right ones but at this point you struggle to care the slightest bit about morality.

You set Kuroo losing his composure as your goal, trying your very best without even overthinking the possible consequences and if that means that you have to let a random man flirt the living hell out of you right in front of your boyfriend (who happens to have slight possessive tendencies) during your weekly grocery shopping, then so be it.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Kuroo watches the blood boiling scene in front of him with his brows furrowed in pure anger; annoyance flooding his usually so soft and calm features and the more time passes, the angrier he gets.

However, Kuroo’s not a dom for nothing.

He keeps his cool, even lets you take the guy's number as he causally ignores the way that stupid fucker lookes at your ass like a fucking pervert, before the two of you eventually finish the shopping without Kuroo commenting on any of it.

At this point you’re just frustrated. Anger and irritation rush through your body at such a fast pace, you feel your head spinning the closer you get to the car and if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re currently in a public parking lot, you would have thrown a fit already.

Tired of Kuroo’s oblivion, you finally get yourself to gather every bit of composure you have left and turn around to just tell him about what the fuck you want when he suddenly pushes you against the car door, pressing his strong body into your back.

"What the fuck was that little scene supposed to be, hm, doll?", he hisses into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck and just as usual you love the way his deep and almost unrecognizably raspy voice sends jolts of arousal through your whole body right into your core.

In an instant, you feel your cunt clenching in despair, drenching the fabric of your panties just like that and even though you’re very much aware of your surroundings, you can’t bring yourself to actually give a fuck.

"Good fuck dolls answer when they are being talked to", Kuroo grunts and pulls the lobe of your ear between his teeth, easily eliciting a sweet moan from you before he suddenly wraps his strong fingers around your throat. The cold metal of his rings builds the perfect contrast to the hotness of your skin and with another soft whine, you press your thighs together.

And then, as you gently throw your head back against his shoulder, Kuroo’s hand finds its way around your breast, quickly and incredibly harshly pinching your sensitive nipple between his fingertips to remind you of his – still unanswered – question.

"T-Tetsu, I just-", he doesn’t give you the opportunity to finish your sentence, casually tightening his grip around your throat and cutting off your air supply in one go.

"How the fuck dare you call me by my name right fucking now, you cockhrungy little slut?”, Kuroo’s voice is cold and distant; the anger and disappointment evident in every single one of his words and you can’t believe just how much your pussy starts spasming in response.

“You better address me correctly or last night was the last time you got to cum, did you fucking hear me?", he’s quick to add, the lack of oxygen in your body sending you even deeper into the beautiful haze of pleasure. You barely notice the way you start gasping gasping for air, your lids fluttering shut as you press your thighs even tighter together to get some kind of relief from the heavy pressure on your throbbing cunt.

"Y-Yes, Daddy", you whimper and push your forehead against the cold surface of the door, your body slowly but surely growing overwhelmed by the arousal heating you up.

And in the middle of it all, you’re still incredibly grateful for the lack of company due to the late time of the day because even though you enjoy this with every single pore in your body, you don’t want anyone else to see you like this.

Kuroo lets go of your throat, his hand wandering in between your legs and underneath the waistband of your shorts, just to suddenly cup your cunt. The feeling of his fingers pressing against the drenched fabric of your panties, his rough digits rubbing your needy  clit makes you let out a loud, throaty moan.

"Fucking whore", Kuroo curses, his lips so close to your ear, you feel yourself literally melting into a puddle of despair underneath his tall figure, "I can't believe you let that bastard flirt with you right in front of my eyes", he continues and sucks the skin of your neck into his mouth, sucking harshly before he harshly pulls it in between his teeth.

You whine again, constant mewls of frustration leaving your lips as you try your best to move your hips against his big hand, yet fail miserably.

"I should have fucked you right then and there just to show him who this slutty cunt belongs to", Tetsu groans, rubbing his hard erection against your ass but refusing to to move his fingers on your clit. His words and the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves has you moaning and without even trying to calm yourself down, you reach back to take a hold of Kuroo’s thick hair.

"You would have liked that, am I right, kitty cat? No, wait – you would have loved it. You're literally getting wetter and wetter just at the thought being fucked like a stupid whore", Kuroo scoffs, a hint of disbelief wavering in his voice and without missing a beat, you let out a sound of approval in response.

"I'm not even surprised", he hisses and suddenly, pulling his hand out of your shorts, "at the end of the day, you're nothing but a pathetic whore who thinks with her stupid cunt and nothing but her stupid cunt", and then he lets go of you.

His sudden absence leaves you tumbling against the door with a soft whimper and it's then that you notice the way your whole body is shivering from the overwhelming amount of arousal rushing through your system.

"D-Daddy, please", you whisper helplessly, using every single bit of your energy left to turn around and face him, "I need you", you add and can’t help the soft sob falling past your lips; two tears finding their way down your cheeks as you look into the beautiful face of your lover.

The strictness and distance in his features makes you gulp harshly, his usually so soft and calming eyes filled with nothing but hunger and anger and you let yourself devour this rare sight.

"Oh, look at that", Kuroo pushes his bottom lip into a fake pout with amusement sparkling in the pretty brown around his iris, "my little, cockcrazy whore thinks she has the right to even think about my cock after pulling a show like that”, he lets out a loud, empty chuckle, “how cute and oh, so pathetic, kitty.”

Kuroo takes your chin in between his fingers before he straightens his face and pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Backseat", is all he grunts, "I guess I’ve been a bit too good to you. I haven't fucked some manners into you in some time, have I, pretty kitty?”, you look at him with big, teary eyes and your lips parted before you bring yourself to nod in response to his question.

“Is that why you keep acting up like some needy, filthy little whore? Do you want Daddy to treat you like this, hm? Because you know how much I hate disobedient kittens who flirt with other men, yet choose to do it anyway. Right in front of me, too."

His words stir something deep inside of you, your pussy clenching even harder around nothing as a strong jolt of arousal finds its way right into the pit of your stomach.

You have never been more turned on by anyone or anything and at this point you’ve completely forgotten your surroundings; Kuroo and his huge cock the only thing on your mind as you pull open the door to the backseat of his car.

Kuroo watches you carefully, his eyes roaming the sight of your shaky thighs and the damp spot on the grey material of your shorts before he gets himself to tear his gaze away from you, lifting his head and checking the mostly empty parking lot to make sure nobody is watching the two of you.

He doesn’t like doing it in public; the thought of being caught or watched is definitely alluring and tempting but usually followed by the image of it actually happening and a jolt of slight disgust washing over him.

However this time Kuroo is absolutely ready to make an exception because after remaining patient with you for so long, he knows he won’t be able to keep it up for the entire drive back home.

After making sure nobody is around – his habit of parking all the way at the very end of the parking lot no matter what coming as an advantage – Kuroo also makes his way into the backseat, his gaze instantly finding your glossy eyes before he takes in the oddly satisfying sight of your tear stained cheeks and pouty lips.

You look so vulnerable, so helpless, so pathetic – the thought of completely destroying you in every way possible quickly clouding his mind and the longer he looks at you, the more he just wants to fuck you into oblivion.

But again, Kuroo isn’t a dom for nothing.

With hooded eyes, he silently motions you to turn around, the urge to press your face into the seat taking over every bit of his brain.

You don’t hesitate and obediently move onto your stomach, pulling yourself up onto your knees as your eyes nervously roam the inside of his car.

Your heart is hammering against your rib cage at an unhealthy pace, adrenaline and arousal thrumming inside your ears and clouding your mind in the best way possible.

Oh how you love the effect he has on you.

"Take off your shorts and then finger yourself", Kuroo hisses, casually pushing his sweats as well as boxers briefs down his muscular thigh, exposing his thick, rockhard cock to the cold  yet tensed air in the car and letting out a soft hiss, "I want you to stretch that little cunt of yours", he adds and without even trying to hide it, you turn your head to watch the way Kuroo spits into his palm and then wraps his fingers around his cock.

You let out a loud, desperate moan at the sight of his huge length; the tip red and angry, already leaking so much precum, you feel your mouth watering at the memory of his taste coating your tongue. You gulp harshly the longer you watch him stroke his length like that, your pussy clenching in despair at the mere thought of how good he fills you up.

You hear the loud sound of skin meating skin before a harsh pain starting from your inner thigh rushes through you; a choked out whimper leaving your lips before you can literally feel your ears perking up at the sound of Kuroo’s voice.

"If I have to repeat myself one more fucking time, I swear to God, I won't let you cum for a whole month, kitty", Tetsurou growls, an almost inaudbile moan following his threat and after mumbling a soft apology, you're quick to get rid of your shorts and underwear just as you were told.

You bend your body down and spread your legs, only to feel waves of embarrassment and shame in combination with heavy, hot arousal overwhelming you.

Kuroo has the perfect view on your spasming cunt and you know he is basically devouring you with his eyes, your head spinning at the thought.

"Oh, kitty", he sighs and picks up the pace of his hand, focusing on his tip every now and then to slightly edge himself because even though he usually manages to hide it really well, this whole situation has him a lot more worked up than he had expected.

And now that he actually got to see how much his change in demeanor and choice of words have gotten to you, he is more than just  struggling to keep his cool composure.

Kuroo can’t help but think of the way your slick arousal tastes and feels on his tongue, your sweet moans filling his ears as you part those pretty lips of yours in pleasure.

Kuroo watches the way you slide two of your fingers through your glistening folds, collecting your own juice before aiming for your sensitive, hardened little clit and as soon as you press the tips of your digits against the bundle of nerves, both of you let out a loud moan.

"Don't forget about that tight hole of yours, baby", Tetsurou grunts, throwing his head back as he curses himself for slipping out of his persona even if it wasn't for longer than a second.

You whimper at the sound of your favorite pet name falling past those pretty, swollen lips and choke on that exact whimper when you insert both of your fingers into the warm walls of your cunt.

"That's right, just like that, you little slut", Kuroo’s quick to comment, his other hand pushing the material of your (his) oversized shirt up to reveal the soft flesh of your ass before spanking you softly and then digging his fingers into your skin, "even though your fingers are nothing compared to my cock, we don't want you to to get hurt, right?", and again, he finds himself quickly regretting his choice of words and lack of authority.

But he can't help it. You’re his perfect, sweet faced little angel girl after all; there’s no way he can completely abandon his soft, caring side no matter how bratty you become. Not even thinking about giving you a chance to respond, he reaches out and plants another harsh spank on your slightly sore ass.

You muffle a loud whimper, burying your face in your arm as you try to keep your noises down in hopes of getting to hear the sinful moans of your Daddy; however, Kuroo is quick to notice your little plan.

"You're really trying it tonight, huh, you fucking cumslut? You better start moaning or I'm about to get really, really mad and believe me, you do not want that", Kuroo scolds you, his hand leaving your ass and wrapping around the one buried between your legs before he starts helping you thrust your fingers into your wet pussy.

Kuroo watches the way you clench around your digits with his lips parted in pleasure and arousal tingling at the bottom of his spine and if it wasn't for the punishment he has in mind, he would have fucked your pretty pussy.

Your loud moans, high pitched whimpers and desperate whines start filling the small space of his expensive car, making it even harder for him to stay collected and as he slowly observes the way your thighs slowly start shaking, he pulls your hand away from your drenched cunt with a deep grunt.

"Let's go over the rules really quick, kitty", Kuroo sighs and pulls you to stand on your knees, making sure you don't hit your head  before he pushes you against the back of the passenger seat.

Your head is spinning at an inhumane space and you don’t even know if you can form proper sentences especially at the feeling of Kuroo’'s hot tip prodging at your entrance. However the slap against your sensitive pussy manages to pull you back to reality rather in an instant.

"Green means good, o-orange stands for okay, slightly uncomfortable and r-red is the signal for you to stop, Daddy", you whisper, burying your face in back of the passenger seat’s head part as Kuroo slowly starts pulling you down onto his lap, making you sick onto his big cock painfully slowly.

"Keep it going, you're not done yet, kitty. Come the fuck on, stop disappointing me like this", he groans and throws his head back, the sudden urge to feel your lips on his and your tongue in his mouth making his mind go absolutely empty.

His words ring in your head, your mind foggy and sight slightly blurry as he finally bottoms out and knocks the breath out of your lungs just like that.

You try to stay focused, knowing and very well aware of his order but the feeling of his pulsing cock inside of your tight pussy, tip right against the entrance of your womb has you going mad crazy.

"One tap, if I can't breathe, a pinch if it hurts and two if I want you to stop", you finally manage to mumble and  the moan that leaves your lips when Kuroo slowly starts pulling out of you at those words – is almost animalistic.

"I'd love to praise you but you did make me wait and you actually have the pleasure to feel my cock even after all that shit, so", Kuroo’s voice is slightly strained, your tight walls gripping his huge cock like a vice and no matter how many times he got to experience this feeling, he knows he’s never going to get used to it.

You start moaning shamelessly, not even able to close your mouth as Kuroo rams himself back into you and then finally picks up a steady rhythm. Your fingers dig into the fabric of the seat, face buried in the headrest as you let him use you like a doll.

You love the way Kuroo’s grunts grow louder, his thrusts more impatient and the grip in your hips painfully tight; you love the fact that he is enjoying this as much as you were.

But then, out of nowhere, you realize how quiet he has been ever since he has started fucking you.

Dirty talk is something Kuroo has alway been really into, the lewd words falling past his lips so easily and managing to rile you up every time, that you haven’t even noticed how much you miss it.

"D-Daddy", you moan and gulp harshly, your hand reaching behind you to wrap your fingers around his, "t-talk to me, please", you ask softly and spare a quick glance at your lover; his astonishing beauty sending jolts of warmth through your chest.

Kuroo tsks, a loud scoff leaving his lips before he rolls his eyes and keeps thrusting into you. He is absolutely obsessed with the way your cunt spasmed around his cock, the sight of his huge length disappearing inside of your tight hole edging him more and more.

"P-Please, Daddy", tears flood your eyes rather quickly, the pleasure making you incredibly emotional and the tight feeling in your chest looking for relief as you softly sob into your arm, "I need you to talk to me, please; I'm sorry for acting like a whore", you cry and throw your head back, a choked out sob-moan leaving your throat and even though Kuroo does enjoy the way you are literally falling apart on his cock, he hates seeing you cry like that.

"P-Please call me your pretty girl and t-tell me how much you – fuck – love my cunt, please", you beg shameslessly, the tears streaming down your cheeks and leaving hot trails behind and despite the guilt inside your chest, you slowly start coming closer to your relief; the taste of your upcoming high coating your tongue in the sweetest way possible.

"Ssh, baby", Kuroo finally lets go of his hard mask, his chest tightening with every one of your soft cries and even though he knew he'd break at some point, he still had hoped to keep it up a little longer than usual, "it's okay pretty girl, I got you. I'm here, kitten", he whispers and as his soft voice fills your ears, a loud sob leaves you, followed by a tiny moan when his fingers start drawing circles into your neglected clit.

"Come on, angel, I want you to cum", he places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before he starts thrusting into you even harder, "show me who this sweet cunt belongs to", your lover's oddly assuring words are the last straw and without another second passing by, you let go and feel the coil in your core snap; shoving you head first into your high.

Several waves of pleasure hit you, your orgasm literally ruining you to a point where you struggle to take proper breaths.

Kuroo helps you ride out your high by slowing down the movements of his hands and hips, his breath getting stuck in his throat as he tries to handle your constant clenching.

"Cum inside of me, Daddy", you whisper, exhaustion dripping from every single one of your words yet you still let out soft little whimpers to encourage your pretty faced boyfriend, "want you to fuck your baby into my belly", you add quickly and the way literal innocence is coating your voice is what throws Kuroo over the edge.

Your cunt continues to spasm around him, making sure he cums as hard as you did and then, after his whole body halts its movements, he cums inside of you; painting your warm walls in several shades of white.

Kuroo quickly pulls out of you, the loss of contact and sudden feeling of emptiness has you whimpering slowly but you instantly go silent when he pulls you into his arms, pushing your face into the sweaty crook of his neck before he slowly starts caressing your naked thighs and massages your scalp.

A couple of minutes pass by, the exhaustion overcoming the two of you and when Kuroo notices the way your lips grow heavier by the minute, he presses his lips against yours and pulls you into a passionate kiss. A lazy clash of teeth, your tongue slowly entering his mouth and of course he is quick to swallow your spit, making you whimper into his mouth.

"Please don't ever do that again, my love", he whispers against your parted lips, his thumb grazing your cheeks and then your neck, "if you want me to be hard on you, there's no need to flirt with other guys, you just have to tell me, okay? You know I will do anything to make you happy", he mumbles and you quickly reply with a soft hum of approval.

"I love you, Daddy", you sigh, burying your face in his chest as your lips stretch into a big smile when you hear him mumble, "I love you, too, pretty girl."

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - VIII

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,600+

Warning: Mention of sexual assault 

Previously on…

“Going along with this plan seems rather unlike you,” Tim finally pointed out to Bruce.

It was the two younger boys and Bruce sitting in the cave. 

“Without her help, we would have never been able to get the evidence we need to take down The Court of Owls,” Bruce sighed as he looked up at the screens.

“Yeah, but like you said before, we never use our own as bait,” Tim countered.

“Y/N knows what she’s doing.”

Tim and Damian shared a look.

“Are you certain things have not gone too personal, father?” Damian finally asked.

The personal question finally forced Bruce to tear his eyes away from the screens and look at his son.

His gaze shifted between Tim and Damian. From their looks alone, Bruce realized that his feelings towards Y/N were not as subtle and secret as he wanted.

But Bruce knew better than to answer Damian. 

The boy had never been invested in his father’s personal relationships before. Why did he have to start now? And with Y/N?

“What happens if things go south?” Tim challenged.

But Damian answered for his father. “You know he has a plan B and C, Drake. He always does, even if he doesn’t share it.”

Bruce was not about to have a conversation about his love and sex life with his two youngest sons. So, he thought of something to escape and he thought of it fast.

He stood up quickly and faced them. “Mandatory family dinner. Tonight.”

“What!?” Damian screamed in outrage.

“I don’t want to,” Tim whined like a baby, even though he was very much a young man standing at the ripe age of 19.

“Mandatory,” Bruce repeated solidly before leaving the cave.

Damian and Tim shared a look.

“This is your fault,” Tim accused.

“How is it my fault?”

“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut about the sexual tension we’re all choking on in this damn mansion!”

“But you don’t disagree. You’ve noticed it as well.”

“I was a little late to the game, but yes,” Tim admitted.

“She’s not like the other ones,” Damian muttered so quietly that Tim almost missed it. 

“No, she’s not,” Tim confirmed. 

——————

Bruce was slightly surprised to find Y/N sitting at the outdoor pool, reading a book.

She wasn’t in a bathing suit – just shorts and a t-shirt.

Bruce walked over with his hands in the pocket of his slacks.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re starting to like it here.”

She looked up from her book with a smirk. “For the record, I still think we should ‘eat the rich.’”

Bruce smirked. “Right. Of course.”

Y/N eyed him. “Did you need something?”

“Are you sure about this?”

Of course he was coming to try and talk her out of the plan once again.

“Bruce, I’m not changing my mind.”

“Figured you would say that.”

Y/N could see his mind racing. It was obvious he hadn’t stopped thinking about everything that could wrong with. Bruce needed control. And even if he was going into an inevitably dangerous situation, he always had multiple plans to get out alive. Y/N’s involvement made it harder for him to do that. 

“Careful,” she warned him playfully, “It’s starting to look like you’re worried about me.”

“I am,” he retorted.

Her amusement vanished. “I didn’t think you worried. Or got scared.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you had realized by now that both of those things happen when you’re involved.”

She didn’t know how to respond that. She really didn’t.

“I also came out here to tell you we’re having a family dinner tonight.” Yes, Dick and Tim were basically living at the manor while they handled this specific case. But it was rare that the whole family ate together. All the boys would come back from patrol at different times. Alfred usually made something and put each of their meals in the oven or fridge for when they got back.

But Bruce made a habit of having mandatory family dinners. They weren’t frequent. And the boys often viewed them as some sort of punishment. But Bruce saw it as a way to remind them all that they were a family. A chaotic and a strange one, but they were still a family.

“It would be nice if you could join us,” Bruce added politely.  

Y/N smiled at how obvious it was that he was choosing his words carefully. “It was really hard for you to not me tell what to do, wasn’t it?”

He narrowed his gaze at her from being caught.

She never seemed to miss an opportunity to tease him. 

“Yes. I’ll join you.”

Bruce nodded, clearly pleased with her answer.

“Will you miss it?” Bruce surprised her by asking as he looked around at the exterior of the manor, looking almost lost in thought.

“It’s a home,” Y/N sighed. “And even with all the secrets and dark pasts, it’s still filled with happy memories, too. And a family.” 

Then she smirked. “Even if it’s a highly dysfunctional one,” she added teasingly.

“Not sure all the boys would agree with you on that.”

“Are you sure about that?” Y/N challenged.

———————

Y/N walked out of her bedroom right as Dick was dragging Damian down the hallway.

“Come on. It’s never as bad as you think it’s gonna be,” Dick tried to tell the boy.

“Why did Todd come? He never comes to family dinner. He doesn’t even see us as his family.”

Dick smirked. “You and I both know that’s not true, no matter how many times he tries to convince everyone – even himself.”

Then both of them noticed Y/N’s presence in the hallway.

“You look pretty,” Dick complimented.

Y/N looked down at her outfit and shrugged. “Figured I could make a bit more of an effort.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Damian huffed before leaving the two of them behind.

Y/N and Dick both laughed lightly at his attitude.

“I’ve never told you how good you are with him,” she thought aloud.

“I don’t know about that…”

Y/N turned to him with an insistent look. “You are. Sometimes I think he listens to you more than Bruce. He looks up to you. I think it’s because…” her words die out.

“What? What you were going to say?”

Y/N still hesitated, but told him anyway. “I think it’s because you’re more available to him…emotionally, I mean.”

“Sometimes I feel like I have to talk to him the same way I do with Bruce. He’s a younger carbon copy of the guy. Just brattier.” Dick sighed. “Deep down, Damian has a good heart and he cares deeply about the people in his life. He’ll just never admit it.”

Y/N nodded.

It did sound like Bruce.

But Y/N never considered Dick would have a similar impact on Bruce that he also had with Damian. She wondered what Bruce would be like today if he had never taken in an orphaned Richard Grayson.

Sometimes Y/N believed Bruce would be completely devoid of any and all emotions if it hadn’t been for an adolescent Dick. His needs and wants as a child had prevented Bruce from turning completely into a callous vigilante with nothing tying him to his own humanity and life.

Y/N was about to continue her walk to the dining room, but Dick softly grabbed her arm.

“Hey, before we walking into the chaos…” Dick cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure we’re okay after the other night.” He shifted his weight and looked at the ground. “If I was too forward or I misread something or–”

“Dick?” Y/N interrupted with a smug look.

His head shot up to look at her. “Yeah?”

She had a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Then she moved into Dick’s space, closing the distance between their bodies and did not stop until they could feel each other’s body heat.

Y/N tipped her head as if she was about to kiss him.

But her lips stopped just a centimeter or two from his.

Dick’s eyes turned menacing once he realized she was messing with him.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered seductively, “we’re okay.”

Then she slipped away quickly and started walking away without him.

“That was cruel!” Dick called after her.

But her only response was her laugher from down the hall.

Dick shook his head, but couldn’t stop his smiling.

Maybe it was avoidance or a distraction from the reality of their relationship. But Y/N couldn’t deny that it was also fun.

—

Dinner was in the formal dining room of the manor. This was the first time Y/N had even stepped foot in the room. The fireplace was even lit. Even when Wayne Manor was hardly trying, it reminded Y/N how out of place she was.  “If I have to sit through this bullshit, you’re sitting next to me,” Jason said from behind Y/N, making her jump.

To her horror, Jason pulled out a seat at the head of the table. Two at each end and then two chairs in the middle on both sides.

“Oh, I don’t think–” Y/N stuttered out in panic.

“You’re the guest,” Jason cut her off and gently pushed in the chair when he finally got her to sit.

Damian was already sitting to the right, closer to the other head of the table– probably to be closer to his father.

Jason sat down to the left of Y/N. And when Dick finally caught up to her, he didn’t question Y/N sitting at the head and sat to the right of her.

“Perfect. You’re like our future step mom,” Jason declared.

Damian snickered, despite hating to laugh at Jason’s joke.

But Y/N looked horrified. She was about to jump up and take the remaining middle seat on the other side of Jason. But Tim’s timing was absolutely horrendous.

“Please switch spots with me,” Y/N leaned forward and hissed at Dick.

He smirked. “Absolutely not.”

When he saw her obvious panic, he leaned forward as well and whispered, “That’s payback for earlier.”

Y/N glared at him and huffed.

“Oh, I’m so glad I came,” Jason sighed.

Bruce walked into the room with his head held high. “Tim, no phones. You know better.”

Tim sighed in annoyance but slipped his phone into his back pocket.

Dick leaned to Y/N. “Bruce has a strict ‘no electronics’ rule for family dinners. Phones are forbidden.”

Y/N nodded, even though she would never be so rude as to bring a phone to dinner, especially when she was a guest and this was a literal “manor.”

Somehow Jason had pulled a bottle of red wine from nowhere. Or maybe it had been sitting on the table and Y/N had just missed it.

And Jason had already grabbed Y/N’s glass and gave her a heavy pour. “But drinking is highly encouraged,” he added with a crooked smile.

Y/N barely let him finish pouring before she grabbed the wine and chugged. 

When she put the glass back down, Bruce was watching her carefully. She at least had enough shame to sink lower in her chair and give him an apologetic look.

But Bruce was amused more than anything.

He’d never brought a woman to a family dinner like this. And though the situation was not that straightforward, it was still causing him a weird amount of anxiety.

“How are your lessons going, Damian?” Bruce broke the tension with the question.

Damian muttered off what sounded like rehearsed and generic statements about his personal studies.

“I didn’t even know he went to school,” Y/N muttered to Dick as Damian and Bruce talked.

“He doesn’t. He’s technically homeschooled,” Jason answered first. “Which is total bullshit seeing as all of us were forced to go to Gotham Academy with all the spoiled brats of the city.”

“As if it mattered, you died before you were forced to graduate from the stupid establishment,” Damian commented darkly.

Jason beamed and laughed lightly at the comment.

But Dick, Tim, and Y/N all froze and looked to Bruce.

They all knew it was a sensitive topic. 

Bruce was clearly trying his hardest not to scold them all night. So he just took in a deep, shaky breath.

“Why get your GED or drop out of high school when you can just get murdered?” Jason offered with enthusiasm.

“Jason,” Y/N warned lowly when she saw the pained look on Bruce’s face that he was trying so hard to hide.

Jason’s death still haunted Bruce and riddled him with guilt – despite the miracle of him being resurrected. Y/N probably knew that more than any of the boys. Maybe only Dick really shared that understanding.

“You’re right,” Jason agreed. “Tonight’s not about me. You’re the guest, Y/N. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got caught in her throat when she felt everyone’s eyes on her.

This was not how she imagined tonight going.

But Alfred – her savior – interrupted with the first course of soup and salad.

Everyone was momentarily distracted with the food.

Y/N hoped it stayed that way.

“Who taught you how to hack?” Damian piped up.

Y/N relaxed at that particular question. “No one. I taught myself.”

“Where’s your family?” Tim asked innocently.

Y/N flipped through all the possible lies she could tell, deciding to go with the one that would lead to the least amount of follow-up questions. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

“We’re estranged,” Y/N mumbled without looking up from her food.

“Parents are overrated,” Jason commented with a smirk.

Dick and Bruce glared at him.

However, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with Jason.

Little did she know that Jason could relate to her upbringing far more than anyone else at the table. Their childhood’s were parallel. Ones neither of them deserved. 

Tim instantly felt guilty for asking an uncomfortable question without realizing it.

“Y/N is not here to be interrogated,” Bruce warned the table.

“Well, why don’t you tell us about her, B?” Jason answered. “How exactly did you two meet again?”

Bruce narrowed his gaze. He knew what game this was. The more emotion and reaction he showed, the more it would encourage Jason to continue with such antics. “We worked on a case together a couple years ago,” was all Bruce supplied.

“More like she threatened you into working with her,” Dick mumbled as he tried to hide his smirk by licking his lips.

Y/N kicked him under the table.

“So, Y/N, have you always had a thing for older men?” Jason asked.

She gave him a death glare.

“Jason, come on.” Dick cautioned.

“I mean, you of all people should be curious, Dickie.”

Everyone went quiet.

Jason rolled his eyes and looked around the table. “Oh. Are we all pretending there’s not a weird love triangle going on?”

“I didn’t realize my sex life was up for discussion tonight,” Y/N mumbled.

But it wasn’t just sex was it?

“Why don’t we all go around the table and share!?” Jason suggested loudly. “Dick, you first. What’s your number?”

“Jason that is enough.” Bruce grunted.

But Y/N had it with Jason’s pot stirring and she wasn’t going to let Bruce fight her battles for her.

She snapped her head in Jason’s direction. “I hope you don’t have a sex tape laying around, because I will sell that shit to PornHub faster than you can jerk off,” she threatened.

The words slipped out of Y/N’s mouth so quickly that she had momentarily forgotten that a literal child was also sitting at the dinner table.

Her hand slammed over her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. 

Jason threw his head back with laughter. This was exactly the chaos he was trying to start.

Her eyes whipped to Damian with horror as she blurted out, “I am so sorry!"

“Please, I know what fornication is,” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m not so innocent. After all, I was conceived from my mother drugging my father and forcing coitus onto him.”

“I also slept with said mother,” Jason chimed in.

Tim made a disgusted gag noise.  

Dick rubbed his face in exhaustion. Y/N’s jaw dropped at this new information. 

But when she looked to Bruce, he wouldn’t meet her stare, only further proving it was all true.

This was no laughing matter. 

Yet the whole family seemed desensitized by the subject.  

Y/N was processing that Bruce had gone through such an assault – and by the mother of his only biological son, nonetheless. “Can Jonathan come over soon for a sleepover, father?” Damian suddenly asked.

The subject change was like whiplash on the entire table.

Y/N couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t just move past what she found out like that. 

“I don’t see why not,” Bruce answered.

Clearly he was grateful for his son’s short attention span and his inability to read the room and realize he’d said something entirely inappropriate for the situation. 

But Y/N could also see the subtle happiness in Bruce’s eyes from his son asking him such a question. And for that split second, this felt like a normal family.

“Who’s Jonathan?” Y/N asked Dick quietly.

She was trying to follow Bruce’s lead and move on. 

“Superman’s son,” Dick provided.

“And literally Damian’s only friend,” Jason added.

“I heard that!” Damian shouted.

“I meant you to!”

“Put that knife down, Damian.” Bruce warned. “What have I told you?”

Damian lowered his head in shame. “The knives at the dinner table are for eating, and are not to be used as weapons under any circumstance.”

The table suddenly erupted into various conversations. Tim started talking Wayne Enterprises business with Bruce. Damian and Jason were shooting insults at each other. Alfred brought in another course.

Dick and Y/N shared a moment.

She sighed, realizing that the worst of it was probably over now.

‘Sorry,’ Dick mouthed to her.

‘It’s OK,’ she mouthed back.

The dinner continue with filet mignon, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, mushroom bordelaise, and – thankfully – more wine. 

Maybe Jason had helped them all in a way by airing out all their dirty laundry immediately and getting it over with so they could move on.

But as Y/N looked around the table, listening to the boys and Bruce talk, she realized that maybe – just maybe – she didn’t want to leave. 

—

Alfred put all the boys to work cleaning the dishes after dinner.

But he refused to allow Y/N to help. Once a guest always a guest.

Alfred handed Y/N a fresh glass of wine and told her to wait in the drawing room and that he’d bring dessert within the hour.  

Y/N knew better than to argue with him and did as she was told.

There was a roaring fire in the room, pulling her to it.

“Please don’t take anything Jason said personally,” Bruce said from behind her.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. “He loves to start drama. That’s for fucking sure.”

“He’s constantly trying to get back at me. You weren’t his target. I was. But I apologize that you were caught in the crossfire.”

She turned away from the fireplace to face him.

Her eyes were heartbroken and worried.

“You never told me about…” she hesitated, “about Damian’s mother. I-I had no idea.”

“I try not to speak of it. No matter what happened in the past, Talia is still Damian’s mother.”

“But she still–”

“I’m fine,” Bruce cut her off. “Really, Y/N. I came to terms with it long ago.”

He was irritated, but too preoccupied with comforting Y/N to face the dark truth of how Damian was conceived.

“Well, if you need to ta–”

“I know, Y/N. Thank you.”

Their moment was interrupted by the boys trampling in the drawing room.

Dick had Damian thrown over his shoulder as the boy screamed insults at both Tim and Jason. Clearly Dick was preventing a full-on brawl from errupting.

The bickering and teasing continued but wasn’t anywhere near as awkward or stressful as it was at dinner. Perhaps all the glasses of wine Y/N had were helping with that. She decided to simply sit back and watch the Wayne family.

Eventually it hit Damian’s bed time. Bruce insisted on tucking his son into bed. 

Jason took their leave as his cue to leave the manor. 

Tim went up to his own room. Except they all knew it wasn’t to sleep, but to get back to work and not stop until he was utterly exhausted. 

The drawing room turned relaxing as Dick and Y/N were the only two who remained. 

“You survived,” Dick pointed out with a chuckle.

“I did,” Y/N answered with a light laugh.

Dick let a moment pass before he asked,  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your parents?”

She sighed, knowing Dick was going to bring this up at some point.

“Because I don’t tell anyone about them.”

“You told Bruce,” he countered.

Her brow furrowed. “And how do you know that?”

Dick at least looked guilty for answering, “He told me.”

She glared at him. “So is that what you two do now? You talk about me with each other? Swap notes?”

“Course not. But don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical getting mad about it?”

“Hypocritical?” She shot back.

“Yeah, hypocritical. You did a background check on every single member of this family. You know my entire past. You know every woman I’ve been connected to in my life. But the moment I know something about you, it’s not OK?”

“As if you wouldn’t offer that info freely if I asked…”

“That’s exactly my point, Y/N.” Dick sounded exasperated. “I’m trying to get to know you. I’m really trying. But now I know you’ve done it before. So I’m asking you to trust me enough to do it again.”

“It’s not that simple,” Y/N mumbled before walking out of the room.

Dick let out a groan of frustration and rubbed his face.

That definitely could’ve gone better.

But Y/N’s night wasn’t free of the Wayne men yet.

Just before reaching her bedroom door, Bruce crossed her path.

“Hey!” She snapped at him. “My past isn’t something for you to announce to whoever the fuck you want.”

“Y/N, that’s–”

“Save it,” Y/N snapped before he could get a word in. “Whatever broody and cryptic bullshit you’re about to spew…just…save it, k?”

And with that, Y/N slammed her bedroom door shut.

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

Part 9

A/N: I know a lot of people really hate the Talia/Bruce sexual assualt storyline. But that was the version of Damian’s conception that I was most familiar with. I didn’t want to make light of it, because we all know male victims of sexual assault are not taken seriously – and that’s fucked up. But I also didn’t want to linger on it too long since it’s such a disliked plot point

Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!! Pretty, pretty please. 😔

[doopy-n-loopy]

How would yandere mercs react to us trying to escape late at night?

Well not well that's for sure!

Yan!Mercenaries (TF2) × Reader hcs/ imagines

// Yandere themes, violence, fear play, yandere shit

Defense

Demo

You got out of Demo's bed, you had given him more alcohol than usual to keep him asleep. You looked over the heavily snoring figure beside you. The scot had his mouth wide open and a bottle of beer cluched in his palm. You leaned in and blew on his eye to make sure he was asleep, and there was no physical response from him. You then quickly slipped on your clothes and pulled out the small bag you've been hiding behind the nightstand, it was filled with money and other essentials like pepper spray, sunglasses, and a cloak.

You walked out of the room, taking one last look at the scot before tiptoing out of the house, avoiding scattered empty alcohol containers on the ground.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a voice from behind you

"y/n? What are ye doing?"

He was drunk of course, but when wasn't he? It was like he was sober in his own way. Sober enough to recognize that guilty look on your face. His expression twisted into an angry snarl and he grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you down the stairs into the basement

"you'll stay here till you know how to listen"

He said trying to conceal his anger, but failing to do so

He could also just have a breakdown depending on the type of night it was and guilt you into staying

He will be a lot more strict on you

Heavy

You were looking to escape in the night but heavy lives in an eternal blizzard basically so... That's not a great idea

But lets say you've been preparing for awhile and got everything set up, a snow mobile, warm clothes, and a torch

But the moment you get to the shed, you find that your snow mobile is broken

Heavy then appears out of a corner of darkness with an upset expression

It's silent for a moment, until he speaks

"After all Heavy has done for you? Why?"

You felt guilt building up into your throat as you tried to search for an excuse. Unable to find one. He isn't a very restricting yandere, in fact, he's much tamer than most, he's given you basically all he has and to do this is like a slap in the face.

"Heavy will forgive you, if you just come back" he said while smiling

You were then gently pushed back out into the cold in the direction of his house, where you'd be staying once more

If he was in a bad mood, he'd be a little more rough

He also will place more restrictions on you but it's not like you'd notice considering it's not much

Engineer

You were about to leave in your car at night, when you tried turning it on, it wouldn't start. Engie then walks in front of your car and waves at you for you to come out, which after hesitating, you comply.

He walks over to you and hugs you, which confuses you. He tells you it's alright and that you don't have to go

"I'm sorry but, I want to leave" you stutter out

He panics internally and grips your shoulder, looking you in your eye

"do you know what could happen to you out there? Rapists! Murderers! The world ain't sugar n' honey, darlin"

"but-" you respond, suddenly cut off by him

"but you're safe here with me. I'll always protect you"

He hugs you once again, sucked into that warm embrace, you calm down and walk back with him

You were restricted from certain things from then on

Offense

Scout

You got into a fight with him earlier and in the middle of the night, you decided it was time to leave.

You packed a bag of clothes, some water, money, and other essentials

As you got your keys, you were met with a sleepy eyed scout who had bedhead

"Y/N....? The hell are ya doin?"

It takes a second for scout to process what's going on. You're grabbing your keys, you're fully dressed, and you had a suitcase with you

"Jeremy. I'm leaving*

You said sternly. You could see in his eyes that his heart shattered into a million pieces

"Wai- what no! No no no no! Please y/n you gotta stay please!"

He begged, grabbing onto your coat as you began to walk out. Tears formed on his face but you ignored it

"I can't put up with this anymore"

You said, voice cracking from the pain in your heart. Scout was sobbing now, he kneeled in front of you to stop you

"I'm so sorry I'm so sorry! I'll change I swear I'll become better! You want to go to eat out more? I got the money! I'll treat you nicely!"

You didn't believe a word he said, but with the way he was talking, it had to be true.

"Please I love you so much and it would kill me to lose you... Literally... You're my world to me, baby"

You bit your quivering lip as you looked down at him like he was a sad puppy. You sniffled and dropped your bags, huffing in defeat

".. I'm sorry. I'm just tired"

Scout was overjoyed to hear this. That night he clung to you

Scout didn't really become more strict, but he did become more loving to avoid that again.

Pyro

This one is scary, scarier than support classes even

You were almost out the door when they spotted you. They gave you an inquisitive look. You both shared a minute of uncomfortable silence before you bolted out the door. Pyro was unprepared for this, giving you some time to create distance between you two.

But Pyro was quick to get ready and they were out the door in no time with their flamethrower, ready to burn down acres of forests in order to catch you

You could hear pyro approaching, knowing that once you reach your car at the end of the base, you'll be safe and free.

While you were running, it seemed like their footsteps had been fading ever since they've gotten louder. Until you couldn't hear it anymore. You didn't pay any mind to this since your objective was just getting ti your car

When you arrived at the boarders of their territory when you stopped in your tracks

Pyro was leaning over their axe by the car, looking smug as ever. You looked towards your car and gasped.

Pyro had shredded the tires and broke open every window so you couldn't escape. You stood there as pyro approached you and swept you up in their arms, snuggling their mask into your neck the entire way home while you couldn't help but softly sob

Soldier

Soldier would lose his shit

He's already super strict, forces you to get up at 5 am every morning and run laps like you're in the military, makes you eat either MRE packets or home cooked food and you better hope it's an MRE pack because he cannot cook

So when he sees you at your car late at night, he screams at the top of his lungs enough to scare you into shock

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MAGGOT? GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

I could see this going one of two ways, either complying or he has to chase you down (which he will)

If he has to chase you down, he won't be happy about it, and become even more strict than before (which I don't think is possible but it's soldier)

Support

Sniper

You... What?

How did you even get the idea that you could escape?

You live in his fucking van, you won't have a car other than his van

But lets say you saw the chance for escape, and tried to take it. You either got shut down the moment you got out of bed or you were lucky enough to get far away from the van

"get your bloody ass back to bed" is something he'd say if he shut you down the moment you stood up

But this man is a sniper, he can scope you out easily, and he won't hesitate to use a tranq on you

After that, you're back in the chains

Spy

Scary

Did you really think you could?

He knew you were gonna escape before you even escaped

He'd make very subtle remarks about it and remind you of what he could do

"Do you remember about the undercover mission in Spain back when I was working for the government that I told you about? When I was able to find the traitor using three clues. Even after all his records were erased"

Subtle shit like that to remind you who's in control

But lets say you didn't take the hint, and you decided to try and escape anyways

He'd catch you in the living room trying to escape, and send you back to bed

Or, you'd get lucky and be able to run away, meaning he'd be on a job

Trust me, he will find you within 48 hours, 24 if you aren't moving that much

He's very manipulative so he'd try to make you feel bad about it.

Much more strict afterwards

Medic

I have a feeling he'd already knowz but not to the extent that spy does

He notices your behavior, and how you're starting to become a bit more.. energetic?

Anyways, like spy, he'll warn you subtly

"You seem to always find yourself injured in any way. And like they say, a medic can track an injured person like a gps system, ja?"

If you decide to escape, he'll have some fun with you definitely. He'll late you run far enough to think that you're finally free, before he catches you and brings you back. He's sadistic.

He'll laugh at your face and degrade and humiliate you, making you regret ever trying

After that, he's much more strict, and demanding from you

Bonus cause I wanted to: Pauling

Pauling like spy, can track people very easily

I wouldn't even be surprised if she convinced medic to help put a tracker in you

Well, she'd be at work checking your location every hour. And the moment she finds out that you're not in the house but at a motel, she's pissed.

She has to quickly finish up work before taking her time to go catch you, and trust me, if Pauling takes time off work for something it's important

Once she finds you, she tells you to come out, trying to keep it civil. When you don't, she ends up busting through the door and taking you herself.

On the way home, she complains about how you worried her and made her miss some work like a parent going to pick up their sick kid from school

She eventually cools off after she gets you home, but she is definitely more strict

Gify was acting up so I couldn't download any more gifs 😭

Anyways feel free to request again!

[jincherie]

kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga​​ ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.  

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare. 

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword. 

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life. 

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.    

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching. 

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from. 

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse. 

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now. 

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably. 

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it. 

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment. 

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting. 

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.  

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely. 

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising.  “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way. 

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip.  The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him. 

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does. 

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not. 

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can. 

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features. 

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events. 

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls. 

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel. 

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane. 

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here. 

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics. 

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts. 

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing. 

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes. 

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does. 

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour. 

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there. 

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier. 

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death. 

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this. 

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

 …You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride.  “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch. 

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know. 

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself. 

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone. 

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing. 

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly. 

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten. 

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches  and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics. 

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations. 

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It’s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think. 

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped. 

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

[robust-cicada]

Fade Out Again (Thom Yorke X Reader)

For @shehangsbrightly

prompt: honestly i would be allll over the bends era thom, and i think something angsty is what i’m feeling rn. do your magic 😌

Gender Neutral and SFW

CW: angst, burnout, arguments, swearing, guilt, break up, bad mental health.

“I really don’t know what you want from me! I thought you’d be happy to see me after, I don’t know? Nearly a year? But no, I’m the bad guy as always!”

“You think that you’re the only one this tour has taken a toll on? I haven’t been in the comfort of my own home in a year. I haven’t seen my friends or family in a YEAR! You can’t always expect to be my top priority!”

“Obviously. You know, every tour you do the more of a self-centered asshole you become. Just because your band is ‘making it big’ doesn’t mean you have to treat the people in your life like shit, Thom! It isn’t just me. Ed literally has told me numerous stories from when you got too drunk to even perform! You promised.”

“Oh enough of that promise bullshit Y/N! I’m sick of it!”

“Well, that shows how much you fucking cared about it, huh? Shows what a promise means to you? You’re pathetic. The amount of love and support I have poured into you since fucking college and one hit song throws every promise and hope for our future away.”

“Oh fuck off.”

I let out a dry laugh and walked to our bedroom. I grabbed a suitcase and packed as much as I could shove into it.

“What are you doing now?”

“Fucking off. I’m done, Thom. Absolutely done.”

“Yeah sure. You won’t last more than two days Y/N, and you know it. We’ve been through this before.”

I stormed towards him, his back colliding with the wall. I looked into his eyes, trying to look for any sign of remorse in his cold, blue orbs.

“Not this time Thom. I’m tired of crawling back to you with hopes that things will be how they used to again. I am tired of endlessly longing for you to return the love I give to you. You’ve changed and if this is you now? I want no part of it.”

He scoffed and looked away from me.

“Anything to say? Or are you too good for that, Mr. Big Rockstar?”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

I scoffed and grabbed my stuff. I stormed out onto the snowy streets. It was freezing but I didn’t dare look back. It felt like I had been walking for hours before I found a phone booth. I put the change in the slot and dialed the only number I could remember through my rage.

“Hey, Eddie? It’s Y/N..”

“What happened this time?”

“Well, what usually happens when he gets home I suppose. Are you busy?”

“Need somewhere to stay?”

“Ye-ah.” My voice cracked as tears swelled my eyes.

“Where are you, I’ll be there as soon as I can?”

---

It had been nearly two months since we broke up and not a word was spoken between us. Ed had generously let me rent out the spare room in his house until I got my shit together, which did not seem to be happening. All I could seem to do was cry, work, and sleep. Eddie was wonderful and tried to help when he could, but he tended to keep his distance. At some point, I knew Thom would end up stumbling into the house, however, I did not expect to hear his voice breaking downstairs as he talked to Ed.

Thom’s POV

“Ed, it’s driving me mad! Do you know where they are, have you heard from them, anything?”

“If they wanted you to know where they were, they would’ve contacted you. I can’t really help you, man.”

“I just. I can’t do this anymore. I need them, so badly. You don’t fucking understand.” I crumbled to the ground in tears. “It’s my fault. Every time they leave it’s my fault and- and I just expect them to come back. What happened to me, Eddie? What... happened?”

“Thom. You’re the only person who’s gonna be able to fix this and you know it. I’m not helping you anymore. We’ve been through this too many times. I’m not a fucking couples counselor!” He grabbed his hair in frustration.

“You… You too? You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you’re giving up on me too?”

“You know what, Thom? That’s your problem. You can’t take any fucking responsibility for anything, can you? It’s always somebody else’s fault with you!”

I couldn’t even form a response. My thoughts spiraled rapidly as I tried to figure out where everything went to shit.

“I-I’m so-rry. I don’t know what to do, a-and I don’t mean to throw it all on you, Eddie, you… You’re just always so good with this stuff and you know them so well and- and- and..”

“Thom,” He held his head in his hand, “take a breath. There’s no need for all the blubbering.”

“But-”

“Just shut up for a minute okay? I’ll be right back.”

He marched up the stairs and disappeared. A few minutes later he came back down. Followed by Y/N.

Y/N’s POV

His face was tear-stained and puffy. He was in a pile on the floor looking as hopeless as an abandoned puppy.

“Y/N..”

I felt my jaw clench as I looked at him. I wanted to slap him and yell at him for everything he put me through, but my body betrayed me. Instead, I found myself kneeling in front of him, arm reaching out to cup his face in my hand. Tears streamed down his cheeks once again as he rested in my palm. He turned to kiss my fingertips.

“I’m sorry Y/N… I took you for granted. I thought you would always come back, and this time you didn’t, and my ego left with you. I need you, I need you so badly love. I can’t do this without you. Please I will do anything to have you back… Please.” He was barely speaking and as he whispered he looked me in the eyes for the first time in years.

“I... I can’t, Thom.”

His posture snapped to attention and I watched his heart shatter again.

“Why not..?”

“You hurt me.”

Tears of my own now mimicked his.

“Please.”

“Thom, stop.”

“I can’t. I can’t because I love you, and if you ever loved me then you would come back.”

“Don’t you fucking dare with that bullshit Thomas.”

I stood and walked away, but he followed.

“Love doesn’t go away Y/N, you told me that yourself. If you loved me you wouldn’t walk away like this. You’re really willing to throw everything away like that?”

“Stop. Thom, I- I can’t do this, just go.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“And I’m not leaving with you.”

He approached me and gently grabbed my hands, giving me the same damn look he did every time he wanted to get his way.

“No, Thom. Stop. Please.”

“One more chance, that’s all I ask. If I fuck it up again I promise you will never hear from me again. I’ll take you on the next tour, I’ll let you get a puppy like you’ve always wanted. Literally, anything you want is yours. You don’t ever have to work again. Just, please?”

“You still don’t get it. I don’t want material things or money. I don’t, well I do want a puppy,” We chuckled, “But that’s not why I left. All I want is your love, some of your time and attention. I want to feel safe with you. I want to feel at home. I don’t feel like that with you anymore. The only feelings that run through me when I look at you are sadness and insecurity. You make me feel like a child being scolded by their mother. I just can’t live like that again.”

“I promise that I will fix what needs to be fixed and will do anything I can to make you feel safe again, just trust me.”

“We both know promises aren’t your thing.”

“I’ll keep this one.”

“I can’t believe that, Thom.”

“I’ll let Ed take over the band if I break this promise and I will never perform with Radiohead again.”

“Oh, shove off you lunatic! I’m not worth that. Your fans would have my head.”

“I’m serious.”

“You make everything so hard on me.”

“Jesus, Y/N would you please just say yes? All you have done the past two months aside from work is cry and sleep. I can barely get you to eat. Just get it over with. If he fucks you over again I will personally skin him alive, just, get it over with you two!”

Thom looked at me hopefully. I sighed.

“Fine.”

“THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!”

He planted kisses all over my face and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Jesus, Thom, you smell! When was your last shower?”

“I... I have no clue,” He scratched his neck and looked at the ground.

“I mean, you are rank! You smell like a secondary boys locker room after P.E.”

“Okay, in my defense, I didn’t think you were going to be here.”

“Yeah, so it’s okay that I suffer in your stench then?”

“Well, we’ve shared a tour bus, I figure that you’re used to it by now.”

“Well, by that logic, if Y/N is coming on tour with us, they better get used to it too, because you’ve smelled worse after a show.”

“Lovely.”

He laughed and engulfed me in a hug again. I gave in and dug my face into his neck, letting him rock us side to side.

“Let’s get you home then, yeah?”

“If anyone needs to get home it’s you so you can shower!”

“We can shower together if you’d like.”

“Okay, yeah, if you could leave the dirty talk for the car ride home it would be appreciated.”

We laughed once again.

“I’ll go pack,” I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before walking up the stairs.

“I love you, Y/N!”

“I love you too Thom.”

[digital-corruption]

Now to celebrate 100+ followers, a one-shot I wrote last night. :) I can write romantic fluff when I feel like it. lol

All the Time in the World

A JakexMC one-shot.

“Promise me you will never go to Duskwood.”

Ha! As if I could! I was a bit disappointed in Jake at that point, I thought he had already figured out I lived on the other side of the world. What kind of hacker was he? As if I could just hop in the car and drive over? Or did he really think I could afford an on the spur of the moment international plane ticket? Of course I was just messing with Phil. Even putting aside the lingering effects of the pandemic and the reluctance to travel internationally, there is no way I could afford it.

I was grateful that the events in Duskwood came to a close last year. It wasn’t a pretty outcome, but Hannah was found alive. Overtime my connections with the others waned, not to mention Jake quickly went back into hiding. At nearly two years on, it was becoming a distant memory, almost a dream.

What have I accomplished in two years? Well I’m still a barista working in a cafe, putting up with fussy customers during the morning rushes, trying my best to please them. Not exactly where I saw myself after getting my degree, but here I am.

I found myself daydreaming a lot at work lately of how nice it would be to be swept off my feet and taken away from this crappy life. And then I'd be snapped back to reality by some prick complaining I put too much milk in his coffee.

Don’t get me wrong, not all customers are bad. Actually a vast majority are quite nice, but the nasty ones have a way of standing out and making you want to splash hot water in their faces. There has been a new customer the past couple of weeks, a very unassuming one, who comes in and orders his coffee, then sits at the table in the corner for the rest of the morning with his laptop. I don’t know why he stands out to me when he tries not to. Maybe I have a thing now for guys who wear hoods? He always gives me such a gentle smile that warms my heart. By the time the morning rush is over, he’s gone. My coworkers never seem to notice him so I wondered sometimes if I just imagined him.

One day as the last of the rush cleared, I stood back and sighed. I noticed that the hooded man is still there. Oh no, my boss has a policy against people who only order one drink and then hang around too long. So I have to approach him and encourage him to order another coffee. I don’t like pushing the nice ones.

“Um, you finished your coffee, would you like another?” I asked hesitantly.

“Sure,” he smiled and pulled out a 20. I started to walk off when he cleared his throat. “Can you add another drink to that order?”

“Yes, of course,” I turned back and smiled. “What did you want?”

“Whatever you want,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry?” I looked at him confused.

“You look like you could use a break,” he smiled gently.

My heart skipped a beat. I've been hit on by customers of course. It is the curse of being female. But he seemed so genuine that I thought, Why the hell not?

“Ok, I’ll be right back,” I blushed walking off.

I quickly put together his coffee exactly how he likes it and my cappuccino. After ringing it up on the register and printing the receipt, I told Jeremy, my coworker, that I’m taking my 15 minutes break. I took the tray of drinks over and put them down at the table with the change and receipt for payment. As I sat down across from the man with the hood, he put his laptop away. There was an awkward silence that I had to break.

“Your accent, you’re not from around here,” I commented.

“I am not,” he responded.

“Are you here for business or...?” I queried.

“For personal reasons, but I look to be staying a while,” he explained.

“So, uh, what do you do on that laptop everyday?” I asked.

“IT work. I can literally do it anywhere in the world,” he smiled.

“So you choose to do it here?” I questioned, then took a sip of my cappuccino.

“I like the ambience here,” he winked.

I blushed and looked into my cup. “Maybe you could tell that to all of the 1-star reviews,” I grumbled.

“1-star reviews?” he looked at me confused.

“Sorry, it’s just annoying as a small business to put your heart and soul into work everyday, then turn around and find a snarky 1-star review because you didn’t smile at them right. ‘The woman on the register was rude!’,” I explained, quoting one from the other day.

“I could make those reviews go away, if you would like,” he responded nonchalantly.

I looked at him wide-eyed, “Uh, no, it’s fine. Sorry, I was ranting.”

“Then maybe I’ll leave twenty 5-star reviews for the woman on the register,” he smiled at me again.

Oh boy, he was laying it on thick. I sipped my cappuccino to avoid this.

“Are you dating anyone?” he asked suddenly.

I nearly spat out my cappuccino at the question.

“No, not at the moment,” I replied, reaching a new level of red.

“Not at the moment?” he questioned.

“Yeah, well, there was someone, but he kind of disappeared on me. It’s fine, it was a long-distance thing and was probably never going to work out,” I wondered why the hell I even brought it up as I shifted nervously in the chair.

“What if he didn’t know how to apologise to you?” he looked down at his coffee. “What if he spent weeks trying to come up with the right words, but couldn’t find them?”

I looked at him puzzled. He looked back up at me intensely. “He was a very long distance away...”

“He can do what he does anywhere. He is not tied down to a location,” the very peculiar man explained.

“He would need to prove it was him,” my voice shook.

The man pulled out his phone and flicked through a few screens, then left it open on the table for me to see - the chat history I knew far too well.

My hand covered my mouth. I fought tears. “He was in a bad situation.”

“A situation he spent the better part of the last two years getting out of,” he took his phone back.

“Call me,” I whispered.

He looked at me confused, then he went to my contact and hit the call button.

My phone rang, I pulled it out of my pocket. “Yes, this is her. That’s my mom!” I exclaimed, standing up dramatically to make a scene. “She’s at what hospital?” I hastily went back to the counter. “No, thank you, I’ll be there right away.”

Jeremy looked at me with concern, “Go, we’ll cover for you.”

“Um, it sounds bad. I might not be able to make the morning shift tomorrow,” I lied.

“Don’t worry about it. Just go,” Jeremy gestured.

I went out the back and hung up my apron. Then I grabbed my purse and head back out the front. The man in the hood was no longer at his table. I walked out the front door and looked around, but couldn’t find him. I headed down the street towards the station when a hand reached out from around the corner and grabbed my arm, pulling me to him.

Our faces were less than an inch to each other. I could feel his warm breath on my lips. His fingers brushed my hair behind my ear.

“Do you forgive me?” he whispered.

I closed the gap between our mouths, kissing him passionately and wrapping my arms around him. As he kissed me back, his hand rested at the back of my neck while the other wrapped around my waist.

I pulled away slowly and smiled, “Yes, Jake, I forgive you.” After a pause, I added, “I do have a lot of questions.”

“I have all the time in the world,” Jake smiled.

[nony-bear]

Mission Birthday (Steve Oneshot)

This blog and ALL posts are for people 18 + ONLY.

Gif By: @zimski-vojnik // Dividers Found Here

Parings: Steve X Reader

Warnings: Kissing (I don’t know if that needs a warning but just incase.)  

Word Count: 1779

Summary: It’s your boyfriends birthday... the only problem is, he didn’t tell you. 

A/N: Hi everyone! I know it’s been a hot second since I’ve posted any actual writing, but I finally was able to write this request I got a while back! I think I like how it ended up turning out even though it’s on the shorter side for a oneshot, but anyways, I hope I did an okay job, and everyone likes it! As always, thank you all for your support and everything. You all are truly amazing, and I can’t express how grateful I am for everything. My inbox is always open and has anonymous mode available, so please feel free to drop in anytime about literally anything (even requests!) I’d love to hear from you all!

Sitting at the kitchen table at the Avengers compound, you sip your coffee carefully, trying not to burn your mouth but still get a taste of that magical caffeine. Nat is sitting across from filling out some mission reports while eating her breakfast, Bruce is next to her reading some physics thesis, and Bucky is over at the stove cooking up some eggs. While making himself some breakfast, Bucky chats with you about work and the weather and other normal stuff. The conversation is by no means awkward, but your brain is still waking up, not used to being up this early. Usually, after your boyfriend (and fellow avenger) Steveleaves in the morning for his workout session giving you a soft kiss goodbye, you fall right back to sleep. But this morning was different. No matter how hard you tossed and turned, you couldn’t sleep. There was this weird nagging feeling in the back of your head that you were missing something. Still, you were sure that you didn’t have any meetings except for a quick one this afternoon, and besides that, you had the day completely free. But you still couldn’t shake it, so instead, you got up and dragged yourself out into the common area.

“So, what are you and Steve doing tonight?” Bucky asks, walking over to the table with his plate in hand.

You shrug nonchalantly. “Not sure, probably just go catch fireworks somewhere. Why do you have plans?”

In the midst of hungrily shoveling the food in his mouth, he looks up at you, confused. “But it’s -”

You chuckle at him a little, looking shocked before answering the question for him. “Buck, I know it used to be really big when you and Steve were young, but usually people now only do like cookouts and fireworks. Independence Day just isn’t as big of a deal.”

“Oh my god, you don’t know…” He says, dropping the fork on the table making a clinking sound that causes Nat and Bruce to look up at him in just as much confusion as you.

With a nervous laugh, you look between him and the others. “What don’t I know?”

“Nope, nothing,” Buck announces, his demeanor changing suddenly, before standing up and walking back towards the counters in the kitchen.

You’re suddenly much more awake and quick on your feet, following after him. “You can’t just not tell me now!” You say, grabbing his arm lightly as if you could really ever actually restrain his movements.

“You obviously don’t know for a reason, so I’m not going to be the one that tells you.” He laughs, using his hand to push your head, and subsequently, your body away from him playfully.

“Nat! Bruce!” You whine, looking at them for help.

Bruce sighs, taking off his glasses. “You know she isn’t going to leave you alone until you tell her.”

Bucky huffs in annoyance, knowing how persistent you can be. “Okay fine, but you can’t tell him I told you…”

Your heart starts beating faster; you figured it was something about Steve, but now you’re worried, what if this is something serious. “I promise.” You tell him before taking a deep breath in.

“Today is Steve’s birthday.” He says cautiously.

“What?!” You, Nat, and Bruce all say at once.

Bucky puts down his plate and rubs his hands over his face frustratedly. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Not if I kill him first!” You say immediately. “I can believe he didn’t tell me! I’ve been trying to get it out of him for months! He said he didn’t want me trying to analyze his birth chart, said his mom thought that kind of stuff was for witches.” Bruce shrugs with a chuckle, and Nat swats him with her papers.

“Y/n, please, don’t make a big deal about today. Steve doesn’t like celebrating his birthday. He hates it, actually,” Bucky explains, glancing at the doorways worried Steve may walk in at any moment.

You shake your head and put your hands on your hips, confused. “But why? Obviously, the astrology thing wasn’t true.”

“I mean, that does sound like something his mom would have said, but still, Steve just doesn’t like being the center of attention, didn’t want you to go to the trouble probably.” Bucky shrugs. “Now, speaking of trouble… don’t get me in it.”

After talking to Bucky, you tried not to dwell on the fact that it is your boyfriend’s birthday, and you literally have nothing prepared. But that quickly proved to be impossible. So mission Birthday commenced.

You got yourself ready as quickly as possible to avoid Steve on his way back from the gym before his meetings and then ran out into town. You picked up everything you would need; decorations, food, some cupcakes, and of course, his gift. You had reserved this present for your anniversary, only three months away, but with this new information, you couldn’t help yourself.

Making sure to discreetly slip back into the compound after Steve had already left for his meetings and drop everything off before attending a meeting of your own. Thankfully it was short and sweet, and you were able to dash back to your shared suite in no time.

You set up everything perfectly. Simple blue streamers on the ceiling, a few silver balloons here and there, and his go-to order from his favorite take-out spot and cute little cupcakes from a local bakery presented nicely on the delicately set table, while the gift rests hidden in your bag for later.

Having a bit of time left, you put on one of his favorite records, lit some candles, and changed into one of his favorites of your dresses. You are finishing up fixing up your hair when you hear the jiggle of the knob on the front door.

“Uh, baby? Are you in there? Did you lock the door?” The confused man calls out to you from the other side of the door. Considering the Avengers Compound is one of the secure and safest places in the entire world, you tended to rarely keep the doors locked.

Giggling, you rush over and smooth your dress out one last time before unlocking the door and opening it slowly. “I’m sorry, I’m actually waiting for someone. Can I help you?” You tease him trying not to open the door too wide, and let him see in.

“What’s going on with you, my little minx? Let me in.” He chuckles, confused, trying to wrap a hand around your waist to move you.

You follow his lead and move to the side. Once he enters the room, you close the door before coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso. “I know your secret.” You say softly, unable to contain your giddy smile.

“Baby, you didn’t have to do all of this…” He sighs, turning in your arms to get a better look at you. “You didn’t have to go to all the trouble just for me.”

You shake your head and frown. “Steve, it’s no trouble at all. I love you, and you deserve to be celebrated. I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me.”

His features soften as he leans down and kisses you wiping the frown off your face. “I love you so much…. And thank you, I’m sorry for not telling you, even though I would have been just fine with leftovers and going to see the fireworks tonight.” He chuckles.

“Don’t worry, we’ll still go see the fireworks tonight still, but after dinner, now come eat.”

Steve and you talk over dinner, enjoying the quality time together, and him continually thanking you and telling you that you didn’t have to do all this for him.

After eating, you pull him out of his seat and head towards the garage. You ignore his repeated questions about where you are going, simply telling him to be patient. About fifteen minutes later, you pull over to the side of the road and get out of the car, Steve following closely behind.

Still asking you a million questions, you lead him out to a field where you can see a handful of people in the distance setting something up.

“Baby, what the hell are we doing out here?” He asks you, confused and starting to get nervous that you guys may be trespassing.

“Wanted you to have the best seats in the house.” You say, making Steve connect the dots that the men in the distance must be setting up the annual fireworks. “Now sit so I can give you your present.” You laugh, pulling him down to the grass with you.

“A present, really baby? I swear you really -”

“Didn’t have to do this, I know, I know.” You cut him off while pulling the small wrapped object out of your bag and handing it to him. “I wanted to. Steve, really, I love you; I couldn’t let your birthday be just another day. You deserve better than that.”

Steve stops trying to argue and leans forward, kissing your forehead lovingly before taking the gift from you. Carefully he unwraps the simple blue paper revealing the clear box containing an old dirty baseball with tiny letters scrawled across it in blue ink.

“I know how you always said you wish you could have played baseball as a kid and how you and bucky would always try to go catch foul balls at the Yankees games but never did. So I got one for you, even got the player you liked from all the way back then…” You explain nervously, hoping he’d like it as much as you thought he would.

“This is an amazing baby. I don’t even know what to say. Just thank you, so, so much.” He says, closely examining the ball until he looks up to you, pulling you in close for a hug and a kiss.

You smile at his happiness, proud that he liked the gift. “Happy Birthday, old man.” You giggle teasingly.

He chuckles, giving you an eye roll.“Can’t even be mad at you. You have made this the best birthday ever.”

Soon the two of you cuddle up close with your back against his front and his arms wrapped around you, leaning up against one of the trees bordering the field. Waiting for the fireworks to begin, a comfortable silence falls over you both while he presses soft kisses to your cheek, and you play with the fingers of his that is held by yours. And as you lie there together, Steve thinks of why exactly he didn’t like his birthday, but suddenly he can’t remember.

Taglist: @angrybirdcr // @cloudystevie // @dadplease // @doozywoozy // @patzammit // @selfcarecap // @steebsbabygirl​ // @velvetcardiganbucky​​ // @worksby-d​

If you would like to be a part of my taglist for future writing, let me know! (If you would like to be tagged for only certain characters and/or only specific types of writing (like only fluff or only smut), I can do that too!)

[queenmagnusao3]

AO3 Link (COMPLETE)

Lin had been in a bad mood all week.

Kya was leaving in a few days for the South Pole and she’d be gone for a whole month. She wasn’t upset with Kya, they had discussed the expectations of their relationship at length and Lin had said she was okay with the reality that Kya was going to have to be away for various periods of time.

But it didn’t mean she had to like it.                              

She was always in a foul mood right before Kya left… and while she was gone. She tried not to bring it to work with her but it was hard not to. She’d chew out some poor, unsuspecting subordinate before holing herself up in her office. She saw the knowing looks that passed between the select few who were a part of her inner circle.

It had been Mako who had made the connection between her bad moods and Kya’s trips away from the city. He had mentioned it to Saikhan who had grown a pair and said something to Lin directly. He had left her office pretty quickly, nobody speaking of it again.

But they knew. And she was honestly glad they knew.

Any friendly chatter in the bullpen died as she walked through the desks to her office, closing the door behind her without a word. She was halfway to her desk when her phone rang and she cursed loudly, crossing to the desk and yanking the phone up to her ear.

“What?!”

“Well that’s not a very friendly greeting.”

Lin relaxed a bit at the sound of Kya’s voice.

“I’m sorry. What is it?”

“I know how upset you are that I’m leaving for so long-“

“I’m not upset. I want you to go.”

Lin winced. That didn’t come out the way she meant it.

 “Just let me finish Lin. Tenzin and Pema have some event tonight and they asked if I would keep an eye on the kids. And I was wondering if you would join me.”

“Kya, I”

 “This will be one of our last nights together for a while. I know it’s not ideal but I just really want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

Oh, she was good. Most people had the wrong idea of Kya. She had somehow managed to give herself the image of being some wise and innocent master healer. But Lin knew better. Kya was much more complicated than that. And she had a rap sheet that put Su’s to shame. It wasn’t anything serious, mostly protests or defacing of property but Lin would wager most people didn’t know that about the master waterbender.

“That’s a low blow, Master Kya.”

 “I know, but it’s true. And I know the kids would love to see you. Please, Lin.”

She didn’t know when she had gone so soft but before she could comprehend how it happened, she found herself agreeing to babysit Tenzin’s kids and was actively helping Kya put the four of them to bed.

Lin slipped out of Rohan and Meelo’s room as Kya quietly followed behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

“What-“

Kya silenced her by covering her mouth with a warm hand, bringing her index finger to her own mouth in a shushing motion. She walked past Lin towards the main living area, waving for her to follow. Once they were in the kitchen Kya spent just a moment listening.

“I think we’re safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You always need to give it a few minutes of quiet before trusting the kids are actually asleep. If they hear anything that might indicate they’re missing out on something it’s all over and we’d have to start the nighttime routine all over again.”

Lin perched on the edge of one of the counters as Kya started clearing away dirty dishes. She watched as the waterbender made small movements with her hands, the water literally bending to her will as she made quick work of cleaning off the various bits of food stuck on them. Lin mused to herself that she wouldn’t mind cleaning so much if she could make the water do most of the work for her.

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids.”

Kya laughed and Lin felt her heartrate increase at how beautiful she looked when she smiled. She looked to Lin over a shoulder.

“Lin, I’m the oldest of three siblings. Spirits, I’m the oldest of all of you. Well, except Zumi. But she doesn’t count because she didn’t live in the city growing up. Listening to you all crying and whining all the time, being a full time, unpaid babysitter… best birth control there is. Well that and being a lesbian.”

A decent stack of clean dishes was piling up and Lin hopped down from the counter, grabbing a towel and getting to work drying them.

“You’re not so bad with kids yourself, you know.”

“Yes well, I practically raised Su when my mother wasn’t home. Which was pretty much all the time.”

Lin focused intently on the plate she was drying but she could feel Kya watching her. She was working on working through her childhood traumas but it was still a sore subject. And Lin really didn’t want to talk about it right now. She hoped Kya would pick up on that and steer the conversation away from Lin’s complicated upbringing. With a rare stroke of luck the phone rang, Kya flicking her hands quickly so the water returned to the sink before bolting for the phone.

“Hello. Yes, this is Kya. Right now? I’m kind of busy at the moment. Yes, I understand. No, it’s okay. Just give me a little time. Yes. Thank you.”

Kya hung up the receiver and turned slowly to Lin with a look Lin did not like at all.

“Kya…”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. One of my mother’s old students is very ill and asked for her personally. Obviously mom isn’t coming to the city right now so I’m the next best thing.”

“Kya, you can’t leave me alone with the kids.”

“They’re asleep. It’ll be fine.”

“And if they wake up?”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. If they wake up you’ll have to figure something out. Just think of what your mother used to do if you or Su got up after being put to bed.”

Lin snorted. Her and Su wouldn’t even make it to their bedroom door before Toph would bend a piece of earth in their path that would not so gently push them back towards the bed until they got the picture and accepted defeat. Once Lin had gotten a handle on earthbending it had become more of a game. For both her and Su. Trying to see who could get the closest to outsmarting their mother. The only time Lin had gotten the upper hand before the age of 12 was when Tenzin had helped her “float” above the floor with his airbending so Toph couldn’t sense her. It was one of the few times her mother had actually said she was proud of Lin, at least out loud.

Kya walked to Lin and took her hands, planting a gentle kissing on her cheek.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t guarantee.”

Kya rolled her eyes, moving to the door to slip on her shoes. Lin helped her with her bag and crossed her arms as Kya opened the door to leave.

“I’ll be back before the sun rises.”

“Be careful.”

“Always am, chief.”

She gave her a lazy salute and Lin rolled her eyes, watching her descend the stairs. Once she was out of visual sight Lin stomped her foot to the ground and used her seismic sense to follow Kya until she was completely out of range.

Lin let out a long sigh making to close the door. She froze as bright light flashed across the sky followed a few seconds later by a low rumble off in the distance. Her mouth got dry as she closed the door with a quiet click. Of course there would be a thunderstorm while she was on Air Temple Island alone.

She felt her chest tighten and tried to control her breathing, willing her thoughts to stop spiraling. But she couldn’t stop the memories that hit her. A darkening sky. The sound of rain as it pinged against her scorched armor. A masked face. A cold thumb pressed against her forehead…

Another loud boom of thunder sounded, close enough to make the house shudder and Lin jumped, closing her eyes tight. She felt something then. Light, barely there, footsteps running down the hall towards her.

Lin wiped her eyes quickly, just in time to relax her face as Rohan came running into the room. His heartbeat was pounding and his eyes wide with fear. At least she wasn’t the only one who didn’t care for the storm.

She softened her face into a smile and walked to him, holding her arms out. He didn’t hesitate at all before running to her and she picked him up easily, his tiny legs wrapping around her waist.

“It’s all right. It’s just a storm. I’ve got you.”

He buried his face in her chest and Lin smiled. She didn’t know why she had been so worried. She could handle this.

“Let’s get you back into bed.”

“No!”

“I’ll sit with you until the storm is gone, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

Lin carried him quietly down the hall to the room he shared with Meelo.

“Now we have to be quiet so we don’t wake up your brother, okay?”

Rohan lifted his head from her chest and nodded quickly. She pushed open the door and moved to the small bed in the farthest corner of the room. She glanced over at Meelo who was completely covered by his blankets but thankfully still sleeping. Lin sat on the edge of Rohan’s bed and he jumped from her arms, immediately pulling his own blanket over his head. Just as she started to coax him into laying down lightning flashed again and Lin closed her eyes in anticipation of what was to come.

The storm must be right over them now because the next boom of thunder shook the house so badly that the windows rattled. Lin heard a shrill scream from one of the rooms down the hall and she watched as Meelo shot 4 feet into the air on a gust of wind, startling awake.

Perfect.

Lin carefully uncovered Rohan, the young airbender not waiting for an invitation before jumping back into Lin’s arms. They stood and turned to where Meelo now sat with his eyes wide and staring.

“Come on, Meelo. You can ride on my back.”

Lin suspected that Meelo wasn’t actually all that frightened of the storm but wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to take full advantage of Lin’s offer. He jumped on her back and she felt it in her knees. When did the kid get so heavy? He got into a more comfortable position and Lin lead them all into the and down the hall towards Ikki’s room.

“Ikki?”

A small head popped out from under her blankets. Lin walked to the edge of the bed and started to sit, Meelo jumping from her back and perching on the corner of his sister’s bed while Rohan curled up against her chest. The rain was coming down hard now and the thunder and lightning was going off at regular intervals.

Rohan was still holding tightly to Lin and as she looked at Ikki’s nervous face she knew there was only one thing to do.

“Ikki, move over so I can lay down next to you.”

The young girl’s face lit up in apparent surprise but she moved over without a word. Lin pried Rohan from her arms and laid him on the bed next to Ikki before shuffling herself into the position next to him.

“Can, can you be in the middle? Just so I know you’re really here.”

Lin refrained from letting out a sigh before she shifted Rohan to her other side, inching herself closer to Ikki. She immediately nestled into Lin’s side and she could feel her heartbeat slow. Meelo was already asleep sitting up against the wall and Lin was hopeful she would be able to sneak away before long.

Of course, the universe had other plans as the loudest crack of thunder yet rang out across the sky. Even Lin herself jumped at the sound and Ikki let out another shriek. Meelo seemed a bit more concerned now as he moved closer to Lin, taking up the spot between the wall and Ikki.

“Are you guys okay?”

Lin started as she looked up to see Jinora standing in the doorway. That girl really was twinkletoes the third, she hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Everything is fine. It appears not everyone is a fan of the storm.”

“Oh, okay. I’m glad everyone is okay.”

Lin raised an eyebrow as Jinora still lingered in the doorway.

“Maybe you can come join us and help me keep an eye on these three?”

The teenager’s face relaxed as she climbed up to join them, curling up at the foot of the bed with her head against Lin’s legs. There was another flash of lightning and Lin decided she had had enough. Before the thunder could disturb them she wriggled her right hand free from under Ikki and made a quick, violent movement with her hand. Thick slabs of earth shot up from the floor to the ceiling, soundproofing their little room against the raging storm outside. She had left a small opening by the doorway so she could make her escape once they were asleep again.

It didn’t take long for the four tiny heartbeats to slow to a resting pace but it was then that Lin realized she was in the unfortunate situation of not being able to move without risking waking everyone up again. She took in a deep breath and weighed her options. She could move in one quick motion and hope for the best. But she was already so tired and didn’t want to deal with any more bedtime routines. She supposed she could just close her eyes for a bit, at least until the storm had passed. She shifted slightly, getting as comfortable as she could with the gaggle of airbenders she was surrounded by. She’d just close her eyes for a few minutes…

///////////

It had taken Kya longer than she expected to return to the island, the thunderstorm making it impossible for the ferry to make the trip across the bay. She hoped Lin was doing okay, last she knew Tenzin’s kids weren’t overly fond of storms.

What Kya didn’t expect was to find Lin completely passed out in a bed with her nieces and nephews draped all over her. Rohan had his head on Lin’s chest, her arm wrapped around him protectively as an impressive drool stain spread across Lin’s shirt. Ikki and Meelo were back to back on Lin’s other side, Ikki hugging Lin’s arm close to her as she rested her head on Lin’s shoulder. Jinora was curled on her side at the foot of the bed, her head resting in between Lin’s sprawled legs.

Lin’s face was more relaxed than Kya had seen it in a long while. Even in sleep, her partner was full of tension but right now she looked peaceful. Kya smiled as she backed out of the room, avoiding the large stone slabs Lin must have used to shelter the room from the loud sounds of the storm.

The house was quiet and Kya dragged herself to Tenzin and Pema’s empty bed, determined to get a little bit of sleep before the sun began to rise. She smiled again as the image of Lin and the kids snuggled together flashed in her mind. She laid her head down, sleep overtaking her as soon as her eyes had closed.

[dannyboy-writes]

Warmth

Pairing: Daenerys x reader (no pronouns nor indications of any gender)

Summary: What happens after Daenerys cheats on you with Jon

Warnings: Cheating?

Word count: 1451 (holy shit)

She didn’t know when she fell in love with you. Maybe it’d been when you stood up for her in front of Viserys, not caring the consequences it would bring. Perhaps when she saw you at the market in Astapor, buying food for the hungry children; or when her heart stopped just a bit longer as you offered yourself to fight the Meereenese champion.

She knew all she loved about you, that she did. How your eyes held more warmth when speaking to her. How your eyebrow raised a bit too high when you were intrigued. The sweetness you had with those you loved and the fear you imposed to those against you or those you cared for. How quickly you would hide the blooming emotions, rapidly putting on the mean, serious facade.

Not for her, never for her. She could always read you like a book, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, waiting to pour it out into the canvas.

But not now.

Now they were cold, and distant. And any special treatment she would’ve once gotten was gone.

It’d become obvious when you stepped foot in Winterfell. How their gazes were held in between them for a little too long, but were quickly dismissed. How she did and said things, as if searching for forgiveness within you.

Now your eyes were as cold as the snow around you two - if not more - and the distance between the both of you, although not literal, abysmal. Your tears threatening to fall, but being pulled back in.

She didn’t deserve them, not after this. You weren’t gonna give her that. You’d given her everything, you would’ve given her the world had she asked, but not tears. Oh, how you wanted to cry and scream. At everything and nothing, at the gods, at him. At her.

She knew it was a facade and that you were hurting beneath the cold demeanor, and that was probably what hurt her most. She’d lost the privilege to see the hidden emotions, to be able to see underneath the deceitful front. But she deserved it, she’d caused it.

-

“Where would you go, if you could go anywhere in the world?” Dany asked, eyes glistening with joy, pressing herself tighter to your embrace.

“I don’t know. Probably a nice house by the beach, with lots of trees and pretty sunsets. You?”

She stared into the dark blue of the ocean for a second, “I don’t know. I might join you in your beach house, if you’ll have me, of course.”

“I’ll always have you, Dany,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to her head.

-

Not anymore. It was all gone, all for a stupid mistake, all for a warm bed. But not even, because the man from the north wasn’t even half as soft as you were, and the cold of his fingertips froze her fire-blazed blood.

You had left the comfort and heat of the Winterfell castle against better judgment, and the icy weather was taking a toll on your under-protected body. You just couldn’t be there with them. Having to pretend nothing had happened, the unspoken topic everyone seemed to know about.

You’d heard her call for you and you figured she’d follow. Part of you wanted her to do so, to be able to forgive her; but your brain kept forbidding you from doing so, and the pain in your chest reminded you why.

“Please, come inside y/n. You’ll freeze without cover.” She was right. Leaving the castle into the unfamiliar iciness with only your leathers was not smart, but you still didn’t turn to face her, only holding your arms closer to yourself, as if it would force the heat not to leave your body.

You took a few more steps and coldly spat out, “I’m fine.” It was bullshit, of course, but what else was there to say? Anything there was she already knew, why say it?

Her following footsteps were the only audible thing besides your occasional sniffles and the howling of the wind. Now she wasn’t going to leave you alone? Now?

“Would you stop following me, please?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to face her, “There’s a reason I left the castle, you know? If I’d known you’d follow me I wouldn’t have bothered getting in the snow at all.”

She stopped in her tracks the second the words left your lips, her face braced with hurt. She didn’t expect you to say this, but then again, she couldn’t really blame you. “I’m sorry,” she simply said. “I truly am, y/n. The last thing I wanted was hurting you.”

A scoff left you, “The last thing you wanted?” You searched her face for the joke to drop, but there was none. “It’s the only thing you did.” With that you walked past her, going somewhere warmer than the white snow, but were stopped by her. She held your arm tight, but not painfully, not letting you move. Well, if you tried you probably could, but there was no will to do so in your body.

“Please, y/n,” she looked at you, begging you to listen, and her hurt decreased slightly as you shifted in your spot crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at her.

“I can never take back what I’ve done, never. And asking you to forgive me is selfish, I know. I know,” she remarked. “But I am, asking you to forgive me, being selfish; I am. Because I love you, and I need you, and I was too blinded to see that, for which I’ll never be sorry enough. I wish I could go back and stop myself, I really do. And I understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me-”

“No.” You sternly said. Stopping at your sudden intervention, she started searching for hidden words in your face, finding none. “You don’t get to say that, you don’t get to say you understand and you can’t do anything. You- You don’t get to stop fighting for- For me, for us, you don’t.” She straightened her back with determination in her face and urged you to continue. “You don’t get to break my heart, apologize and move forward just like that.”

The look in your face was less menacing and more downcast, tears threatening to fall from your glimmering eyes. A slight tremble ever so often in the still cold environment. You weren’t sure what was colder, the snow or the situation. 

“So what now,” she asked, wanting nothing more than to fix things, to undo everything she’d done. “I want to fix this, what do you need me to do? Whatever you need, I’ll do it.” 

You stared at her, thinking your next words carefully, shifting in your position, your gaze turning from her apologetic face into the identical scenery. It would’ve been a lovely view had the circumstances been different. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you mumbled as her penetrating gaze grew smaller, filled with defeat. “I want to, I really do. It’s hard enough to have your heart broken but I can’t even bring myself to hate you, Dany.” A laugh fell off your lips but there was no happiness behind it, just pain, “It’d be much easier to hate you. To not feel my heart beg for mercy when I see you and him, but for some reason I can’t. And it hurts, it does- so much,” you stopped a second to look at her, finding her taking every single one of your words, however painful they were. 

There was silence after that statement, neither you nor Daenerys knowing what to say, sometimes it takes more than wanting to fix things to actually do so. Your mouth opened a few times without any words leaving your lips, but your mind settled on something. “I can’t promise it will all be roses. Or that I won’t be pissed, or that it will be easy, because it won’t.” She shook her head in understanding. There were no formalities anymore, no Queen and follower, just two broken people, holding onto a little bit of hope in all the despair. “But if you’re willing to not give up on this, on me, then maybe, just- maybe it can work. But I need you to work with me.”

She jumped into your arms, speaking into your neck, “I will, I will. I promise, y/n, I promise.” She would’ve done anything for a second chance with you. 

It wasn’t going to be easy, you both knew that. And it would be a rocky road, but you’d walk it together, and in the end it would be okay.

~

Requests are open and if y’all don’t stop me imma keep posting Dany cause I love her :)

[volleychumps]

hello! first of all i want to say that your writing is really good and its the only thing that makes me keep going rn 🤡 can i please request yamaguchi, hinata and kenma with a male (i dont know if you do male reader, if you dont it can be female or gn too, however u want 😌) reader that is vv handsome (/beautiful) and always gets confessed by people? thank you sm and stay safe! 🌺

I love that this request singled out our soft boys, I hope you enjoy!

S/O Who Gets Confessed to Often w/ Yamaguchi, Hinata, and Kenma

WordCount: 1336

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

Yamaguchi

- honestly baby Tadashi is probably the most insecure out of everyone when it comes to you, meaning he’s constantly wondering why someone like you would choose someone like him

- “How’s my most talented boy doing?” “S-Stop...” 

- “I’m doing great-” “Shut the hell up Kei.” 

-literally knows how absolutely drop-dead goregous you are, but secretly feels the insecurity increase sharply whenever someone new seems to confess to you almost weekly

- “Y/N! Please date me!....what? You have a boyfriend? Since when?

- feels like you could do even better than him, and seems to distance himself with every new person that approaches you

- “Huh? That freckled kid in our year?...who?” 

- doesn’t feel any better when they claim to not have known, thinking he isn’t doing enough to prove his worth 

- “Yamaguchi! I missed you-” “Um, I’ve got class, Y/N, I’ll see you later.” 

- it breaks his heart when he sees your face fall before a fake smile crosses your features, waving at him as he rushes off, thinking if he pushes you away, you could be happier with someone new 

- “Grow a pair, Yamaguchi.” “I have a pair, Tsukki!” “Doesn’t look like it to me.” 

- until he sees you genuinely laughing with another guy, and seems to have his heart shatter in his chest at the sight of you with someone else

- as Tsukki knowingly shrugs on the sidelines with a told you so, look

- that is until you see him in the background with a hurt puppy expression, causing him to run away and making you chase after him 

- “Tadashi!” “G-Go away, Y/N!” 

- when you hear the crack in his voice, you don’t, and chase him all the way into a deserted hallway before he hears you sniffle, eyes shining with tears when he turns and stops running

- “W-Why are you crying?” “Why do you think, asshole? The boy I love doesn’t even want to be with me...” 

- feels immediately guilty, not realizing how much of an emotional toll he had caused before taking a shaky breath and your hands in his 

- “Are you sure about this?” “Why wouldn’t I be, Yama?” “There are so many other options...” 

- all doubt seems to disappear when you brush your lips softly against his quickly, knowing anymore would have your gentle boy trembling as you press your forehead against his, holding him by the back of his neck 

- “I don’t care about other options, you’re the one I want Tadashi.” 

- pulls you into a tight hug, his chin resting atop your head as you feel the certainty in his hold, no longer doubting himself 

- “If you say so, Y/N...” as his embrace tightens just a little more before you smile softly, running your fingers through his hair

- “I know so. Now stop avoiding the person who loves you, alright?” “I-I love you too, Y/N...probably even more.”

Hinata

- “Er...you don’t get annoyed, Boke?” “Why should I, Trashyama?”

 -this hyper-active tangerine would honestly take it as a compliment the first few times it happens, feeling pride swell in his chest that his partner was so desired by others

- “You’re dating Y/N?” “Hell yeah I am, what of it?” 

- until the whole confessing thing becomes a common occurence, causing Hinata to become a little clingy at times when people call you out of your classroom

- “Love-” “I’ve gotta protect you, Y/N! What if someone steals you away from me one day?” as he follows you out into the various places people ask you to meet at 

- lowkey makes the whole confession awkward as your boyfriend impatiently waits from a short distance, grinning and kissing your cheeks after you kindly reject them, making a show out of it 

- probably childishly sticks his tongue out at the confessor behind your back

- defintely makes a point to show a lot of PDA when around your peers, holding your bag for you and your hand until you actually have to sit him down and tell it to him straight that he has nothing to worry about 

- “Shouyou, do you trust me?” “Wha-?! Why would you even ask that, Y/N? You know I do.” 

- pouts adorably when you bite back a laugh at the jealous actions of your cute boyfriend before you cup his cheeks with both hands

- “Then show it. Know that I’m not leaving you for someone new, okay? The whole school pretty much knows you’ve marked your territory.” 

- “Say that to all those guys who literally ogle you, you’re way too beautiful Y/N.”

- “Alright Mr. Wingspiker known for making it to Nationals, don’t pretend other girls don’t confess to you on the daily or at least blush when you talk to them.” 

- “Wait...they do?” 

- at your deadpan stare, Hinata grins before grabbing both of your wrists that were being used to cup his cheeks, closing the proximity between you two until your noses brush 

- “I hardly notice when I’ve got you by my side, Y/N!” 

Kenma

- this introverted boy would be the type to act like he really could care less, waving you off and shrugging when you tell him you had come back from rejecting another confession

- “Mm. Third time this week?” “Yep!” “Cool.” 

- awkwardly waves to every new guy that comes your way after each let-down, not feeling the need of having to prove himself to anybody as they shove past Kenma in their emotional tantrum of not getting what they want 

- Doesn’t really think much about it until he’s peacefully waiting for you to deliver another rejection, flicking away at the joysticks on on his handheld until the guy huffs, catching his attention from his place outside the empty classroom 

- “Why Kenma Kozume, Y/N? You’re beautiful and funny, but he obviously can’t appreciate you the way I can. He’s not very sociable, and he can’t show your beauty anyone else would be able to.” 

- fingers on joysticks stop moving at his words, Kenma blinking once, then twice as he feels his heart pound at what your response would be 

- did...he really not appreciate you? Or at least not show it? 

- “I really really like Kenma, Hatori.  He doesn’t pressure me into being anything I don’t want to be, you know? He could show me off to the whole school and brag about having me on his arm, but he doesn’t because he knows it would make me uncomfortable. I...” 

- feels his chest swell at your words, wondering why he ever doubted you in the first place 

- “I’m pretty sure I’d rather be with someone who puts my well being first than show me off like some trophy, so thanks, but no thanks.” 

- awkwardly pretends to go back to playing his game when you come out of the classroom, causing you to jump and blush at Kenma’s equally blushy figure 

- “uh...you heard everything, didn’t you?” “....no. I just got here.”

- tries not to smile at the gullible, relieved sigh that slips your lips before offering you his hand, looking off to the side a bit timidly as you gape

- “Do you want to come help me practice my setting?” “But you hate doing that.” 

- “But you said you like watching me practice...so I don’t mind.” 

- swallows back the lump in his throat and ignoring the heat in his cheeks when your goregous grin lights up your features, increasing your pretiness by tenfold

- “Yeah. I’d like that.” 

- stops suddenly to give you a tight hug that held some kind of hidden meaning before walking again as if nothing had happened 

- “Hey Y/N?” “Y-yes?” 

- “Thank you for being with me. I know I don’t really show it a lot.” 

- his pace increases, practically speed walking away from you when realization dawns onto your features

- “Kenma, you were listening!” “I’m more worried about the fact that you believed I wasn’t.” 

[tenderlyrenjun]

the one with the morning classes

summary: you don’t really want to go to class, and Yangyang half-agrees.

↛ ↛ ↛ psych major!Yangyang x art history major!reader

↛ ↛ older female reader, college au, mentions of alcohol, yearning, best friends to lovers/ish, smut (18+) - there is literally sex in every scene, best friend!ten on both sides, study dates, love confessions in bed

↛ word count: 11,9k (I am so sorry lmao)

part one > part two > part three

if you are under 18 and interact with this at all, i will block you

An obnoxious ringing interrupts your day, way too early, and you whine at it, suddenly reminded about the terrible decision that you made last year with the on-call academic advisor: selling your soul to Satan, or, as they phrased it, taking an 8 A.M. class. The default iPhone ringtone seems especially heartless right now, even though you have a class at this time every semester.

Still, it takes Herculean effort to pull your hot, sweaty face out of the pillows and actually get a breath of fresh air. You inhale once, twice, then support yourself on your elbows, tossing all your messy hair over your bare back, like a curtain, to draw it away from your cheeks. The sunlight makes you squint, not having given you enough time to adjust to it yet, because laying in bed, naked, is so much more enticing than actually waking up. Unfortunately, the ringing persists, getting louder, you think. You find yourself clawing through the sheets again, in search of that damn alarm. And when you do find it, screen faced down, you hit snooze via power button, giving yourself extra time before class.

After the annoying sound stops, Yangyang leans toward your naked shoulder, his d!ck thrusting in you at a further angle. He kisses the tip your spine with slightly parted lips, peppering more along your deltoid muscles, directed by his trailing tongue. You cannot tell was tingles more – the goosebumps left in his wake, or the blood rushing to your vulva, caused by the nipping at your skin. Yangyang finds a more permanent spot (that would be hidden by a shirt) above your collarbone and sucks deeper for a few seconds. Instinctively, you drop your cheek into the sheets again and swirl your ass up, before propping your lower body on your knees. His groans fall with you, and he nearly did too, but he stands on his hands. You are very aware of his strength, especially now as you close your eyes and he reverses your moves, grinding his hips forward. One of his hands reaches forward to grab your face and finally kiss you. He is slow and head spinning, and he continuously inclines his head at varying degrees to keep the embrace going.

Then, your phone goes off again and you break the kiss.

“We need to get – Oh, God.” Your forehead redirects onto the mattress, and your breath becomes shallow, cracked by sharp whines blurring out the alarm. As far as you are concerned, Yangyang is all consuming, from the way he kisses you to the way he makes you feel. “Ah, right there, please.” He squeezes your ass, fingers drilling deeply into your skin. His touch feels better than a massage, you think, almost loosening up all your muscle tension.

“So naughty,” Yangyang whispers, strongly. He sounds masculine without being so aggressive. It is very sexy of him. You try to show him, too, that he is hot, by reacting more enthusiastically. Unlike him, you say it silently and hope he knows. He replies, slapping your butt again, and smirks when you moan. “Wanna play hooky? You still, fuck –“ His breath drops, voice getting lower, huskier. He propels his d!ck shallowly, at the same pace your mouth widens in an ‘O’ shape. “- remember your manners.”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree. You roll your hips side to side, slowly stretching as if coming out of child’s position in yoga. It similarly feels satisfactory, like an injection of morphine. “We really need to get up. I have class; you ­– shit –“ His thrust pushes you forward, muting your counterarguments. “- you have class soon.”

Yangyang combs your baby hairs onto your opposite shoulder, gently nibbling around your thyroid, and you whine, knowing that you have an easily swayed mindset right now. “It doesn’t sound like you want to get up yet.” He guides your hips like a figure eight motion. His hand comes around front, between your thighs, holding on in a way that allows him to stimulate your clit with his index and thumb. Every movement gets more intense: the speed, the pressure, even the direction of his fingers, as he elongates all the sensations. It feels like he gets bigger too, lunging more alert with his thrusts. “You need a good wake up call, huh?”

You nod, eagerly, biting your lip. “Mmhmm, my morning ritual is, is really long, fuck.”

Yangyang smirks, motivated even more by the double entendre. And the way his tip rasps against your walls, oh god. You ball the sheets into your fists, putting a protective layer between your nails and palm because he gradually becomes erratic. He comes down to your ear, using his lips to bite at it while whispering, “Wanna turn off the alarm?”

“Hmm?” You open your eyes. “Oh, right.” It doesn’t feel like it has been nine minutes. So, after you pick your phone up again, you turn it over to look at the alarm settings, but it is replaced by the call acceptance slider. You blink a couple times and try getting a clearer look – which is difficult, considering that your head keeps bouncing as he grinds harder and harder, and harder. Then, the call restarts. “Shit.”

Yangyang stops moving to glimpse at what’s wrong. His chest brushes against your back and you can feel his erect n!pples graze your spine. You turn the screen at him, contemplating whether to answer it. Thank God, though, that Ten isn’t asking to FaceTime. You honestly don’t know how you would recover from him seeing Yangyang lay naked on you, especially after that comment at the Halloween party about feeling ‘too comfortable’ with him like this.

“I’m gonna answer it.”

“What?”

“I have to answer it,” you argue. “It’s Ten. He’s going to suspect something if I don’t.” The call ends again, and the notification center shows six missed calls. You turn over your phone again. “Shit, he’s been phoning all morning. I have to answer it.”

You partially expect Yangyang to get up. Instead, he comes down, brushing your hair over your shoulder and pushes you into the blanket. You stretch your arms away from him to redial Ten’s number, although your hands (and thighs) start shakily with his moves. The line rings four times before Ten answers, and you sigh, half-disappointed, half-orgasmically.

“Um, hello?” Ten answers sarcastically, on speaker. “Are you ready? ETA 20.” You hear rustling on the other end that sounds similar to Yangyang ruffling your bedsheets. He is trying to get at your t!ts and you let him, propping up into a true doggystyle. Ten doesn’t appear to discern anything, so you keep the phone on mute – which is necessary because you buck your hips at Yangyang, getting his tip angled on your g-spot. He outlines your n!pples, fingers squeezing over your areola. You almost moan again, but Ten reminds you about his presence: “I’m getting in my car right now.”

“Hmm?” Why?

The silence is deafening, all excess noise stopping, until it is just your heavy breaths and small wet noises. You widen your eyes, thinking that Ten discovered your current … entanglement, so you grab Yangyang’s hand, to suppress anymore sounds. It makes you lose balance temporarily, but expectedly he catches you, by the waist. He waist a few seconds, then drops his wrist to your clit, lightly sliding up and down without thrusting his d!ck. You let him continue, panting with your lower abdomen quivering. He has to stop though, because his exhibitionist tendencies might expose you two. You take his hand off your clitoral hood and kiss his inner wrist before sucking his fingers clean. He shudders his hips. You bite your lip. He smiles. Then, he takes his hand back, planting it into the mattress for extra support so that you can actually answer this call, that the two of you keep forgetting about.

“It’s my treat, remember?” Ten tries to jog your memory, nearly shouting. You can hear him breaking through your bubble. It is just that you are a bit distracted at the moment to really recall any memories. You cannot be entirely held accountable for Yangyang’s big d!ck.

Yangyang starts sucking on your neck again, pushing his pelvis slowly into your ass harder, to give you a better reminder: that you are currently being a good girl for him, to make up for being so naughty this morning (even though he also seemed pretty close to ditching class earlier).

“For breakfast yesterday, after the party,” Ten outwardly tells you. Right, it’s Monday, and you often grab coffee with Ten on the way to campus because 8AMs are hell – you have to absorb new information when you can barely see through all the crap in your eyes, and he can barely comprehend his notes from the night before without the morning bean juice. There is some shuffling on his end again, similar to shaking his wrist free of a sweater to get a better look at his watch. It isn’t enough to hide the moan trapped in your throat. So, you try biting your fist as Yangyang swirls his hips, grazing the ends of your nerves. You roll your eyes to the back of your head and hit mute, in order to moan. “Unless you want to walk? I don’t think you’ll make it though. It’s, like, almost 7:20.”

“What?” your voice cracks. You are still muted though, so you un-mute and repeat the exclamation, whining a little when Yangyang tries to get you to orgasm faster, also having heard the time. Hopefully Ten does not notice anything. You think that you were quiet enough to push it off as a complaint.

“I’ll be outside your apartment in 20.”

Yangyang pulls your chin to make you look at him, staring at you to ask what is going on. You mouth a quick explanation: Ten. Ride. Coffee. 20 minutes. He is so close, warm breath enveloping your skin. You take the distance, initiating yet another kiss, essentially in front of your best friend, although the latter cannot hear or see either of you. Yangyang holds onto your chin, possibly afraid of being swept away or falling again. But you have enough support for both of you, and you know that if you fell, he would catch you. So, you kiss him again, and again.

“Hello?” Ten calls into the void. “Did you lose signal again? See, I told you not to choose the shitty complex on Main because the connection is so bad there.”

You put a hand above Yangyang’s heart and clear your voice, turning to the speaker. “I’m still here. Just, hold on a second.” You hit mute again, then turn to Yangyang. “Do you want a ride too?” Yangyang contemplates for a second, and you drop your forehead into your elbow, biting your lip because, after all, he is still inside you, inside your clenching and very aroused p.ussy, where you want him to finish. He nudges your shoulder with his nose and confirms that yeah, he needs a ride. You kiss him a few more times, unsure why, just wanting to be close – something about want to say in his presence, enjoying his presence. He swirls his hips. It feels really good to be with him. “Yeah, so Yangyang is in the neighborhood.”

“Wha-“

“A huh,” you whine, more at Yangyang than Ten. “He just texted me. He’ll meet you – us! He’ll meet us at my apartment. I’m going to get ready now, bye!” you say everything in one breath, hanging up as equally abruptly before Ten could insert his two cents. You drop the phone and turn around, kissing Yangyang deeply. As he returns your affection, you enunciate slowly, “Five minutes, then we have to get ready. Ten is getting too suspicious.”

Yangyang finishes a little bit after five minutes, not that you mind. Non-residents have to get buzzed into your building, and Ten doesn’t have a key to your front door. You indulge the moment, laying on your arm bent under a pillow. He looks at you with all the care in the world, no longer that suave fuck buddy from a few moments ago but a young romantic who caresses your inner thigh and talks big game about all the connections you two have in common, or don’t. Your hand dips to the top of his head, combing a small section with your nails to his ends. Yangyang asks you for the time, and you almost don’t give it to him, preferring to spend time with him here than overanalyzing some stupid thesis statement that you wrote at 4AM. You pout, and pull his phone between the two of you, showing him that Ten will arrive in ten minutes – ironic, you think.

Yangyang approaches your face, millimeters from your lips. He waits for you to flutter your eyes closed, anticipating a kiss, then runs into the shower. It takes you a minute to join him, and when he sees you, smirking, like you have some dastardly revenge plan in the works, Yangyang shuts the glass door, isolating himself in the cold shower. He holds on extra tightly so that you cannot get in. You look hot when you are annoyed though – he needs to annoy you more. It is even more fun to mollify you. He pulls you into the shower next to him by grabbing your ass and makes out with you against the wall for a few seconds, until you start stretching at the lavender body wash on the shelf behind him.

This time, Yangyang finishes first, hopping out to sprinkle the roots of his hair with dry shampoo so Ten does not get too suspicious. If he has wet hair, then it would be obvious that he stayed over. He puts the powder back on the shelf and wanders into your room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist – even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. There are a few of his clothes in your closet from all the time you stole them, or a couple mini getaways that you two have taken. After he changes into an outfit that he can actually wear in public, he picks out an extra one of his over-sized shirts and drapes it on the towel rack for when you get out. He knows that you really like his clothes, especially the organic band tees. It is another plus that you share the same music taste. Hopefully, none of his friends catch onto the coincidental similarities.

Yangyang likes that you spend a lot of time in his clothes. They always end up smelling like your lotions. It is comforting and reminds him of all the nights ‘studying’ until 3AM. You know, not that he would actually say it out loud (mostly because he also likes to wear his favorite shirts), but you look cuter than him, in his Kendrick Lamar concert tee. And besides, there is a secondary reason as to why he rummaged through your underwear drawer: he wanted to choose your panties for today. It might be a black lingerie set, but how is he supposed to know the difference between a t-shirt bra and a balconette? :^)

Yangyang makes his way into the kitchen, snagging a mini muffin off the island. With the work out he just had, he needs protein but there isn’t enough time to cook anything, not that he actually could; eh, he’ll end up buying something on campus. He tosses two more muffins into his backpack for later – one chocolate for him, one strawberry for you. On Mondays, between classes, he usually catches you in the student experience center, finishing some last-minute assignments. You always end up pushing lunch until after four, ergo he tries to bring you some snacks, whenever he can. Once, his research methods class got cancelled and you didn’t have any pre-lecture materials to work on, so he brought two cups of ramen. You two had a semi-date then. He wonders if it can happen again, today. Ten interrupts the thought though, before it can develop into a real plan, and he sighs. He doesn’t know why, but he keeps thinking about defining this relationship at the worst possible times.

“Yellow?” Yangyang answers, mid-bite. He shifts the phone to his shoulder so that he can check your notification center for any missed calls. You have three. Ten has been going to voicemail all morning, Yangyang deduces, and if he was Ten, he would be damn suspicious at this point.

“Hi, baby,” Ten coos. “I’m outside. Buzz me in, yeah?”

Yangyang reflexively pouts. “I’m not your baby. I’m 20 now.” Still though, he complies, letting Ten into the building, and his friend is upstairs within a minute – not that it is too far. You live on the second floor.

“So,” Ten sings while glancing around the apartment. Yangyang wonders what for – hopefully, not searching for his secret relationship. Ten closes the door, his eyes landing on Yangyang and eying him down suspiciously, in a curious way. “What are you doing in the neighborhood, anyways?”

“I, uh, bought breakfast at Allen’s coffee, down the street,” he lies, “And I didn’t feel like walking back to the frat.” He shrugs too, trying hard to be as nonchalant as possible.

“A huh.” Ten does not seem to accept it, but he lets it slide when you walk into the room, wearing Yangyang’s t-shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. Yangyang cannot see why Ten would recognize the top because you also happen to like Kendrick Lamar – one of your favorite songs is King Kunta, even though you cannot sing along to save your life. Yangyang finds it endearing that you enjoy rap music, even though you cannot match the flow or pitch.

His gaze is still endearing when you walk into the kitchen, beelining for the last mini muffin. Yangyang catches how intensely he was staring at you, after you blink at him (and Ten).

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” they mutter, looking away.                        

“Okay,” you drawl suspiciously, swallowing half your breakfast. You fold the rest of it into the front pocket of your backpack and pick up your textbook. Yangyang meets your gaze but you immediately flicker to Ten. “Can we grab something at Starbucks really quick?”

Ten stares at Yangyang. You just got coffee for yourself, even though you were coming here? Yangyang waves a hand, unsure how to respond. This whole secret relationship has gone on longer than he thought it would. It was supposed to be a one-night stand kind of thing when he first kissed you, the night that Ten introduced you two back in March after Renjun’s birthday party, and not even a one-night stand! He just expected you to make out with him, not give him a blowjob in Kun’s bathroom then let him take you back to his room at the frat.

“What?” You look between them. Yangyang shakes his head, nothing. You stare him down and give in, then turn back to Ten. “I haven’t eaten anything. Please?”

“Alright, fine,” Ten cedes. He holds his hands up in surrender, his keys waving like a white flag. As you all file out the door, Yangyang jokingly asks if he can drive. Ten deadpans at him, protective over the car, and smacks him on the back of his head. “Let’s go.”

Yangyang barely notices when they pull into the drive-thru on 1st, too busy scrolling through Instagram while you and Ten talk about an EDM festival coming this weekend. He only picks up his head when you lean over the gear shift, blocking the GPS from his view (in the middle seat) – he was monitoring the distance to make sure that you get to class on time.

“Can we get two breakfast sandwiches, an iced coffee with 2% milk, and an iced London fog latte, extra pump of vanilla, with coconut milk?” You turn to ten. “Want anything?”

Ten furrows his eyebrows. Neither of them looks at Yangyang, and he lowers his phone, knowing that he is about to be caught in a lie. He didn’t think that Ten would ask anything because of the time crunch. Evidently, he was wrong, and now he doesn’t know how to unspin the lie.

“Who are you ordering all that food for?” Ten asks.

You look at him skeptically, a what the fuck hanging palpably in the air before you point to the backseat. “For the baby.”

“Not a baby,” Yangyang pipes up, voice cracking. He tugs on the collar of his shirt, smiling embarrassed.

Ten turns on his side, back facing the window as he stares between the two of you, ultimately settling on Yangyang. “I thought that you said you already got breakfast at Allen’s.” Ten rotates to you. “That’s why he’s in the neighborhood, right?”

A huh, yeah. Yangyang almost tells another lie but the monitor clerk asks if they want anything else, and they are holding up the line with an empty lane in front. Saved by the bell intercom. Ten orders an extra americano, then you all persist through the awkward silence until reaching the front window. You pay with the app as Ten passes out the round of drinks like a bartender. Yangyang pokes his paper straw through the lid. You can’t baby him if he does everything himself first.

“Uh, are you good?”

Yangyang looks up. You have your iced latte between your legs, holding it at the top of your thighs on your crotch like an ice pack.

“Yeah, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ten enunciates, putting this drink in the cup holder, “people only put ice on their private parts when they’re sore.” He widens his eyes, posture stiffening and he points at you. “Did you have that guy over? The best y-“

“You don’t –“ You hold up a hand, physically interrupting him. Yangyang should have known that Ten would never seriously suspect him as your fuck buddy; he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or offended. “- have to repeat it. I just feel sore.”

Yangyang smirks at that, but he has to hide it when Ten looks at him, pinching his cheeks down like a Tim Burton character. The look in Ten’s eyes is confused again, and he knows that one of two questions is going to come out: if he met that guy that you’re sleeping with, of if he is the guy that you are sleeping with. Fortunately, Yangyang sees the navigation touch screen, and the time is two minutes until eight and you are five minutes off campus. Ten has to drop the conversation and speed to the art building so that at least you get there on time. The extra few minutes he has to spend alone with Ten gives him the idea to cool things off with you for a few days.

That sounds bad, like he is blowing you off, but honestly, you agreed.

Yangyang caught you in front of the communal office space for linguistics GTAs, a few minutes before office hours ended. He snatched you into a supply closet, dragging you by the waist, and covered your mouth to prevent you from screaming bloody murder. You two acknowledged the thin ice that has been melting for a couple weeks now. And he brought up taking a break from seeing each other for a while. At first, you thought that he was breaking up with you – or as close to breaking up as possible, because still, you are not dating. But then, he saw your face and reassured you that he does want to keep seeing you, even in secret; maybe next time, you two should talk about your relationship.

Friends do not need to see each other every day, you know. Or, like, at least, casual friends don’t. Sure, you FaceTime Ten all the time and Yangyang lives with Xiaojun so he sees his best friend daily by default, but you two are not similarly close friends, especially not when other people can perceive how you two interact. No one has to know just that you see Yangyang just as often, in person. And you do it because, well, because you like him – which explains how he ends up back in your bed by Wednesday.

“I’m gonna be late again.”

“No, you won’t.”

Yangyang reaches around your collarbone, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip until he can comfortably hold your jaw. He draws you in for another kiss, his eyes mirroring yours - distracted, enamored, aroused. You cautiously spin around, throwing your arms around his neck to avoid getting swept away, which seems impossible because he holds you securely, at your mandible and the beltloop on your waist. He inhales upon the next embrace, closing his pretty mouth over your philtrum like a slow bite – like several slow bites. You meet him, every time, at the end of each kiss when he shifts onto his toes, getting too tall for your lips, and pull him back on the ground to get more. He moans, after you start roaming your hands under his shirt, running your nails over the crevices in his body like a memorization technique for an early class you don’t have.

You feel hungry, for love, wanting to feel warm. The sun will not rise for another half hour, but he is the warmest thing in the room, even though you are fully dressed, not expecting to be late like two days ago. He copies your moves, unbuckling his hand like a belt, sliding it under your shirt and palming your b.oobs. Then, you squeal, giggling breathily, when he spins you around again and smacks your ass, pushing your thighs into the mattress that you two are standing over.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers in your ear, sucking upward on your external jugular vein.

“No.”

Yangyang stops, deadpanned. He hits your butt again, like a punishment – his favorite kind of punishment, it seems because he repeats it every morning like a bad kind of player, the rich one who goes to bars and unexpectedly falls in love with an attendee, as if it is a coming of age Netflix movie. He repeats it again until you fall on your hands over the bed. You look behind your shoulder at him, jaw dropped. And he takes no time to interpret it, stumbling next to you.

You roll over, led by your hips, so that you can match him, latching onto his face with your hands on his cheeks. “Of course, I trust you, dummy.”

He looks down still, picking at the seams of your jeans. And you detect his teasing tone, easily, because he goes directly to your inner thighs, tracing up along the thread until he reaches your zipper. “Really?”

You roll your eyes, then make him look at you. He has that kicked-puppy expression in the way the outline of his eyes falls below his eyebrows, but the glint and the gummy smile have you knowing otherwise. “Yes.”

Yangyang pops your pants button undone, mischievously pulling his lips into a dramatic pout. “And you’re not lying to me?”

“No,” you emphasize. You brush his hair back, scratching your nails along his scalp, behind his ears. His smile cannot help itself, breaking out in a way that has you completely immersed. It reminds you of that time when you went go karting with Ten and a few others. You were undoubtedly a bad driver, bumping into the track walls, even during the straight lanes. One time, you made a particularly excellent sharp turn, surpassing Johnny to the finish line. Unfortunately, you were completing lap 3 of 5 and him 5 of 5, but Yangyang still congratulated you afterward – in bed. He also lit up, when you two were just laying under the covers, staring at the ceiling because the stars were too far away. You held onto the arm around your waist, laying on his naked shoulder as he told you about wanting to be a race car driver as a kid, then an automotive or aerospace engineer as a teenager, before he settled on psychology. He kept talking, as if crafting this beautiful galaxy. That is when you knew.

“Prove it.”

“What?” You sit up and straddle him. “How do you want me to prove it?”

Yangyang starts begging for affection, slithering his hand down your stomach, into your underwear. He pulls you into his chest, giggling when you topple him into the pillows, clearly not having estimated the force. You like that you never have to beg for his attention. He always, for some reason, notices you, and it is so hard not to pick up on it. You wonder just how no one has learned about you two yet. It’s not like you are being subtle. Although, the smallest acts he gives you can be found under subtle in the dictionary. Like now, he tucks your hair behind your ear, gaze flickering from his hand across your cheek to your eyes. You kiss him again – only a brief peck, because he inserts two fingers inside you, making you gasp sharply enough to break.

“Can I confess something?” you ask, suddenly braved by an idea to prove that you do trust him.

Yangyang stops fucking you, his fingers flexed still. He scans your face for an actual lie but knows that he will never find one, mostly because he already knows the next few words out of your mouth; he has felt the same way for months. And maybe, at this point, he owes you some explanation, for keeping his own confession unspoken. He wants to give it to you first, before your own declaration. It is something that he thinks he should do, like a societal norm for the guy to confess – that is what all the romantic movies say, right? Well, there is Princess Leia and Han with their whole I love you and I know dynamic, and while that was really cool in the scene, Yangyang has a fixed scenario in his head.

“I love you,” he blurts, quickly, sitting up.

“You love me?”

His heart drops. You are not supposed to surprised. He was nearly 100% confident that you had fallen in love with him, too, but this might confirm that so much was in his head. You keep staring at him, jaw slacked and hands on his shoulders. Only when he starts pulling away do you react, catching his hand.

“I really like you,” Yangyang reiterates, self-pouring salt into his bleeding heart. He hesitates for a second, unsure if he should even be vulnerable again, but what does he have to lose? “I –“ He swallows, still looking into your eyes – “I love you.”

Then you kiss him.

And he lets you kiss him.

He lets you kiss him because of the way you cradle his face, like he is made of glass, like he is the most precious crystal that you have to protect. Your lips get softer when he wets them with his tongue, after feeling confidence in your embrace. You kiss him in a way that takes away the word the love, wrapping him in a security blanket to return the warmth.

“I love you,” you whisper slowly, barely audibly enough for him to hear it over the smack of your tongue as you lower to him. You pause, mouth slightly ajar on his. “Too.”

Yangyang peers at your closed eyes, almost willing you to open them so he can tell you, again, that he loves you, so he can see your reaction when he really tells you. He grabs your face and sits up again. You roll your head to the side, like you anticipate his kiss. He gives it you, simultaneously returning his hand into your pants.

“What time is it?”

“What?”

“What time is it right now?” Yangyang asks you with a sense of urgency.

You turn around, fumbling around for your phone, which is now somewhere mixed in your sheets. The two of you had spent a good ten minutes remaking the bed after the night you had, and currently, blankets are strewn across, folded into messy piles. With the thought distracting you, Yangyang slips two fingers past your underwear again, twisting the crotch area with his thumb for easier access. You pause, sighing heavily, hand bunching up the linen as he scissors you.

“I asked you a question,” he reminds you, slightly stuttering at the end, hesitant to add a term of endearment. Even with the confessions you both just gave, it does not define your relationship and he doesn’t know how to broach it just yet, only wanting to kiss you closely and hear all the love sounds that he feels deprived of.

“It’s 6:21.”

“Good,” Yangyang whispers in your ear as he prepares you to take him. “We have time.”

Yangyang redirects your face to his, tilting your chin up as he leans to the side, almost inhaling your lips. Upon another kiss, he adds his tongue, tired of the light pecks. They don’t express his affection as much as he wants, because small embraces end quicker, causing you to withdraw – which is the furthest desire from his mind, especially considering that he just confessed, multiple times. He curls his tongue, placing only the tip beyond your lips. You check him, trying to catch his tongue but merely snagging his spit. He smirks because you whine again. Was that not enough? Obviously not, he notes after you pull back, breathing on his lips, making him chase you. Your breath sounds rapid and rough, and he wants to alleviate your nerves. Yangyang extends his neck again, craning to meet your lips. He gives you a second to recover, to prepare, panting the faintest ghost kisses across your lower face. Your hand comes above his shaking heart, stopping there as you bite your lip coyly. He wonders if you want to stop. Both of you just acknowledged a lingering more-than-friends adoration.

But then you slide your hand under his chin, making him really look at you.

“I love you,” you repeat.

The repet!tion exceeds his own confession, and he isn’t sure whether to confess again, but you take the initiative for him, rocking side to side like ridin’ d!ck bicycle. Yangyang parts his lips just enough to blow small, uneven breaths. He feels you open his jeans while shifting over one of his thighs, his fingers still trembling inside you. Sex with you always feels so reciprocated. Your nails graze his c.ock erect, your hand tightening at the tip, where you push your thumb on his pre-cum. It gives almost the same sensation as your tongue and the sensation gets more intense. He starts thrusting in tandem, making you clench, around his bicep, for support. When you start flicking the flesh on the underside of his penis (the part that connects the shaft to head), he stops your hand.

Yangyang comes forward, caressing your mouth and massaging your clit. “I’m gonna cum.”

“So cum,” you taunt him, smirking into the kiss.

Your resolve temporarily falters, dripping into a moan that he swallows up wholly. He keeps sinking his fingers at different depths, at a fast and shallow pace, waiting for you to reach the same point. You certainly feel wet enough. He touches that spongey tissue area in your p.ussy that has you seeing stars. You moan his name over and over again, until the two syllables become a tongue twister. He disentangles your tongue, using his own. All those years tying cherry stems in his mouth as a teenager really paid off. He starts making a come-hither gesture, simultaneously flirting with your lips. After your hand ceases, exclusively squeezing his base, right above his balls, Yangyang slows down, slipping his fingers away from your G-spot, up and over your clit, your orgasm weakening.

“Ugh,” you grumble.

“We have time,” Yangyang tells you, “to have sex.” He looks at you through his eyelashes, gradually lowering his head under your shirt, his shirt. After Monday, he wondered if you ever owned any shirts yourself, or if you donated all of them once you ‘discovered’ his closet. “Tell me you want it too.”

“I want you.”

He doesn’t know whether to clown you or flirt with you. The first option would make you laugh, but the second would get him laid. Luckily, you decide for him, shimming out of your jeans and panties, then you slide his pants down to his ankles. He wraps his hand around your throat, drawing you to his lips, and he unintentionally squeezes when you settle on the tip of his c.ock. As you ride him, your walls hug his d!ck nicely, giving it a nice tight feeling that he can’t help but moan at. You straighten your back to gain some height over him and slip your tongue in his mouth. His hands reach out to your ass, guiding your hips forward in waves. He starts breathing heavier and his grip gets stronger.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

Yangyang kisses you, pulling your words into his mouth, “So cum.”

“Fuck.”

He chases after your high, under the guise of helping you ride out this orgasm, getting his d!ck to twitch deeply inside you. When his hold gets too firm, you whine, suddenly over stimulated. Your nails dig into his bicep roughly, barely soothed by the t-shirt he still wears. He thrusts asynchronously with you before coming undone and dragging you into his chest. You feel warm and sweaty in this post-sex glow, your hand and head resting on his chest. He traces little hearts on your inner wrist, not wanting to let you go completely.

“You need to stop picking my underwear if you’re just going to destroy them,” you joke, kissing him on the cheek. “I have to double wash these thongs you know.”

“Can we –“ Yangyang swallows a lump in his throat. He feels like he is pulling you impossibly close, even though you are not moving away. “Can we go back to that thing you were saying earlier?”

“Hmm?”

“The,” he pauses, indecisive whether he actually wants to bring everything up right now. He ultimately decides for it. “Part with the ‘I love you’?” He knows that his voice sounds smaller than normal and that his eyes are shifting nervously at yours, but he wants to hear it again, wants the validation.

“Right,” you understand, nodding your head equally slowly. You straddle his lap again, and he immediately balances you by the waist, wanting to keep that impossibly close distance. “I’m – I’ve fallen –“ You swallow, looking away, but he needs you to look at him. Because if you can’t say it to his face, how does he know that you’re not just saying it out of obligation? Thankfully though, you see to be on the same wavelength, returning to his eyes, and his breath hitches, abs shaking in anticipation. You confidently give him the sentiment, “I love you.”

Yangyang tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, watching the way his fingers finish, stroking along our cheekbone. “I know,” he whispers coolly, leaning into your ear. “It’s hard not to love me,” he changes the subject, “I’m the best.” You scoff and push his chest, but he fastens an arm around you as equally fast, smiling too wide. He is a little sorry, for ruining the moment, but his laugh isn’t convincing at all. “I love you too.”

Sex, you think, feels infinitely better once the weight was lifted off your chest, once the spoonful of love was added. And the way Yangyang keeps kissing you, absolutely obsessed with holding your waist, tells you that spoonful is a misnomer, too small. The measurement for an entire ocean might be a better description. Still though, you would never call describe sex as love making, especially not to his face. At that point, you would be faced with an ‘oh, my god; that’s disgusting, man’ – not that you mind entirely, because the teasing smile he uses is so, so important to you, and sex feels just like that – the love part, not the disgusting thing. Although, sometimes he can be quite disgusting, yanno. Ah, he just makes you want to skip class and stay in bed beside him all day.

Except, both of you know how bad of an idea that is, with midterms are right around the corner.

Despite that, he spends the night at your apartment again, staying up until 3AM even though he has abnormal psych at 8 on Thursdays.

“I need a study break.”

You roll the cover of your design textbook towards your spiral notebook and toss the pile onto the floor, kicking the blankets off your feet. Yangyang barely spares you a glance, too absorbed in his case study. It is the last of five, and he only has the results, psychometrics, and summary statement left to write for this one before he is completely done for the week. Similarly, you have an exam on Joseon architecture later today and you are a third of a chapter away from catching up on reading, but honestly, fortresses get annoying to look at, especially when you have to compare militia structures against lower-class housing. So, you infiltrate Yangyang’s personal bubble, sliding an arm over his hips and your head into his lap.

“Does this mean I have you join you?” he teases, already putting away his pens. He pushes all his study materials by his feet, never leaning too far up, to keep your head in place. It gets even more comfortable when he relaxes again, resting across the pillows. You close your eyes, melting, when he massages your scalp, like he immediately knows where every knot or corner of tension are.

“I would really appreciate it, if you joined me.” You sigh. His touch is heavenly, and it makes you tighten your arm over his pelvis.

Eventually, Yangyang goes back to his homework, this time reclining in a way that lets you curl into his side. And you aren’t actually asleep, just mildly daydreaming with your eyes shut, thinking about literally anything (Yangyang) other than structures. When he raises a book midair, in front of his face, you move positions, sprawling across his chest, leg coming between his thighs. You (purposefully) annoyingly stick your head under his cheek, to ensure that you, at least, moderately block some of the passage.

Yangyang giggles. “Am I officially joining you now?” He puts his papers on your nightstand and wraps an arm around your shoulders, luring you to his lips. Your leg slithers above the waistband of his joggers, and he helps you straddle him again, sinking into the mattress to get a good view of the way you look in his oversize hood, in only his oversized hoodie. “You’re clingier.”

“Than what?” you ask innocently, rubbing his shirt fabric along his chest. You start pouting, as a response to his silence. Does he not want to cuddle? You shake your head. No, he does, given the way he pushes up the hoodie and yanks you further up his lap. “We cuddle the same amount.” You lower toward his ear, holding his neck in place, and whisper, “Do you not want to? Because I can leave.”

Before you can even think about getting off, he kisses you, sitting up. “Don’t go.” His hands come under your ass, squeezing as your arms circle around his neck. “It’s just –“ He bites his lip, suppressing a whine, which you can feel clog his throat. “You can’t sit on my lap like this. I’m getting hard.”

“Again?” you taunt. He slaps your butt, rather harshly, leaving a warm tingling sensation that he kneads away. You grind into his touch and kiss up his neck. “We can try the Pomodoro method.” You blow into his ear, shakily, as his hand presses particularly rougher. “I’ll set a timer for 25-minutes.” You look at him with chaste, despite the way you are purposefully making his blood rush. His fingers move to the edge of the hood, lifting it slightly. “Think we can have fun in just 25 minutes?”

“Mmmhmm,” he agrees early, nodding his head forward to kiss you. You don’t let him meet you though, not that you think he really noticed, what with being distracted by your very naked legs. He slowly sits up, all the way, and you feel his d!ck twitch against your thighs.

“Or do you think we won’t be able to finish?”

Yangyang throws you onto the bed and removes his shirt in one fell swoop. “Bet?”

“Missionary?” you ask, almost sticking your tongue out at him. “You’re getting more vanilla.”

Yanygyang gasps, then whacks your butt. “Take that back!”

You prop yourself on your elbows, eying all the naked parts of him up and down, from his low waisted briefs to his well-defined pecs to the rather cross sulk on his lip. “Make me.”

“Don’t have to.” He takes away your smirk, displaying it across his face. You tilt your head to the left, expression slacking blankly, but you catch on, feeling his fingers outline your sides. He slips his thumb between your lips, pushing it slowly until you basically give him a finger job, like a preview to the actual head he wants. “You’re already prepped.”

Your eyes flicker up, purely, as if he is about to ruin you for the first time. It’s his favorite part whenever you blow him – you looking into his eyes, taking every inch of him. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, dragging your lip down until he lets go, your lips smacking together. You bite your lip, suddenly feeling empty, even though neither of you have really done anything yet. “Are you going to fuck me then?” Your voice sounds so harmless, now lacking the bite as you mentally anticipate his d!ck to stretch you open right now. He shakes his head, no. “So what –“

Yangyang spreads your legs a little wider, strictly, darting in the direction of your main bullseye point. His touches remain light and teasing, not getting there yet, responding to all the little mannerisms that make your lower body so rhythmic. He rubs a finger, swirling the ends of his movements to get your hips riding his digits. You whimper breathily, voice cracking at such a high pitch. He sweeps your bottom lip, pressing his tongue softly, making you wish that he would fuck you already. It is insanely evil, for him to give you a preview of the intense foreplay without actually doing it, barely giving you the imagery of it all. You clutch his shoulder, to steady him for a constant kiss and to actually get on his slender fingers. But he never lets you. Instead, he pulls you by your ass, one-handed, forcing you to roll your hips on the silhouette of his d!ck. Fuck, how can you even feel his c.ock? His joggers are so thick. He maintains the stupid, inhumane taunts, kissing the air between you two, caressing everywhere along your hole. A few minutes pass without him changing the routine, so you reverse the positions, throwing him on your mattress and straddling his lap like a stripper. And with almost the same level of experience, or confidence (you hope it’s confidence), you seesaw over his d!ck. He swiftly locks your arms around his neck and his behind your lower back, palming your ass. You look into his eyes for a second, then kiss him roughly, smashing your lips on his.

“You’re. So. Eager. Today,” he says, muddied by elongated spit noises. His eyes are flittered closed as he smiles smugly, accepting your style of manhandling. Your embraces are light and rapid, doing everything in your power to prevent him from straying too far. But his abs get too shaky, too firm, the familiar build up washing over him, so he has to pull away. When he does, you try chasing him and he brushes your hair behind your ear, slowly stroking your jugular vein like ticking baby hairs. “I love you.”

You smile. “I love you too.” You peck his lips, now sitting sticky on his lap. He looks so pretty, eyes glazed and lips slightly parted. You just have to kiss him again.

Yangyang bends your back to the comforter, guiding you by the throat, simultaneously pushing his pants mid-thigh, c.ock bouncing more freely. It slaps your p.ussy, naturally twitching aroused. He is so close that when he pumps himself a few strokes, his knuckles rasp along your clit and you buck your hips for more touches. You feel his wet tip run along your slit, and you just know that his hand locks above his balls, right around his base, ready to push in. But you stop him.

“Let me ride you,” you pant, slowly opening your eyes.

He nods his head enthusiastically, and you pop off his head. You turn around, back facing him as you take off the hoodie, leaning down to graze your n!pples on the blanket.

Yangyang wails. “That’s not fair. I want to see.” He takes off his pants, to be as equally naked.

You redirect his attention back to your p.ussy, using your first two fingers to pinch your clitoral hood and gently tug it up and down, over his d!ck as you back into him. He lets out a loud moan at the sight; it takes everything in him to not thrust, listening to your command ordering him to wait. You brush your hair over your shoulder again and look at him behind your shoulder, sultry. Your mood changes are so sexy. His body moves automatically, hunching over your spine to litter you with kisses, his hand trailing behind his saliva. You take that palm and put it on your t!t as you grind his c.ock between your ass cheeks, sliding it to the most sensitive nerves of your p.ussy. He aids your building orgasm with two fingers, leaning his metacarpal inside of your thigh to rub circles specifically under your nub.

“Oh my god,” you exhale, walls throbbing in a vacuum of emptiness, needy.

You sit up and push him onto the pillows by his chest, then reach behind to grab his c.ock erect. His breath thunders, encouragingly. He waits for you to do something, scanning your bare back for every little love bite and mark. You slowly descend and use your knees to bounce, ass swirling between his thighs. Your hips oscillate from outward jumping to figure eights, to rocking sideways. And his favorite position seems to be when you take all of him, gyrating shallowly, letting only about an inch leave your p.ussy before you slam back down on him. You mimic his slaps, taking your hand off his inner thigh to grip your ass, dragging your nails up, leaving a tingling sensation. He rolls his eyes to the back of his head, recording the moment in his brain forever, then slaps your jiggling flesh several times. This position gets his big c.ock deep within your p.ussy, causing his balls to bump against your labia. Then he starts thrusting with you, pounding his hips up.

“Fuck, Fuck, Yanygang. Mmhm.”

He copies your expletives, adding some bad girl’s and other lewd nicknames, before slamming with some finality. You think that he is about to cum, but he withdraws, making you whine sharply. Yangyang flips you onto your back, immediately attacking your chest. His hands support you like a wired bra and shakes them, pushing the pads of his thumbs into your sternum so that your hardened n!pples remain level with his mouth. He licks one lightly, circling around the areola, then latches on, sucking with his tongue flattened under your skin. You arch your back to him, drawing him close. He repeats the action on the other, but longer, as he pinches and kneads your b.oob.

“Come on my d!ck again, you dirty little girl,” he orders, voice low and hoarse.

“Then stop pulling out,” you whisper, similarly breathless.

“Okay.”

You lean away from him, supported with your hands on his thighs, spinning your hips in circles and side to side. His hands squeeze your waist, jostling you to his chest brutally.

“Don’t do that,” he growls, teeth barring before he kisses you again, croaking the moan in your throat. He drags you close, fingers digging into esophagus so that his tongue and reach inside.

Your grip scratches on his triceps, pink lines haunting his skin. You keep bouncing up and down, until his chokehold drops. His mouth falls open, releasing strings of curses after gasps. He spanks you hard, twice, then grips your ass, jerking it savagely. You change the motion, grinding in tiny, little, miniscule circles. Your thighs shiver, your entire body following. He rotates his d!ck, thrusting asynchronously. And you claw through his hair, tugging the strands rougher and rougher as your abdomen keeps tightening.

“Almost, almost,” you whimper. “I’m so close.”

Yangyang pulls your bottom lip with his teeth. “Me too.”

You begin slowing down, no longer able to bounce up and down, choosing to rock back and forth. Then, everything stops for just a second, your walls compressing his springy c.ock until you break. All of his muscles grate against you, making you feel each ridge and movement. He follows your orgasm, feeling the way you milk every drop out of him, sucking his entire length balls deep. Your whine sounds like a treble, harmonizing with his lower moan. And you two spend another moment in cowgirl position, collecting your breaths, basically fused together.

“I love you,” Yangyang repeats. Ever since yesterday morning, he has been throwing out the sentiment spontaneously whenever he can: during sex, after sex, while cuddling, in the middle of study dates, behind his cup of coffee at the physics café in the afternoon when no one else is nearby. He follows up with another confession, “I want more than 25-minutes.” And it catches you off guard, considering his previous statement and the other, in the midst of sex, or love making, as some people would call it.

“The 25-minutes is just for right now,” you reassure him, gently patting his cheeks. “We have to study. I still have part of a chapter left to read.”

“Then say it back.”

You pull his face to yours, brushing your noses together. “I love you,” you tell him slowly, enunciating every syllable.

“So, spend the night at my place tomorrow,” he requests. His arms come behind your lower back, his eyes pouting like a lamb.

“Of course,” you answer impulsively, immediately going to kiss him after. Then you pull away, stopping him on the shoulders. “Wait. You have roommates. You have six roommates.”

“Four,” he corrects you – Sicheng graduated last year and moved in with Yuta. “We’ll be fine. Dejun is going with Kun to some conference; I don’t remember what. Hendery is staying at an AirBnB before the EDM festival this weekend. Lucas is …” Yangyang bites his cheek, trying to recall his roomates’ schedules. “I think he’s going on a date. I don’t know, but he bought roses and they’re sitting in the fridge. And Renjun … Renjun …” Yangyang swallows. He almost forgot about the tidbit that he learned at the Halloween party last weekend.

“Renjun what?” you ask, pecking him lightly and chastely.

“Won’t be there either.” Yangyang stops you. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

You sense the serious tone and straighten up, clasping your hands around his neck. “What’s up?” you prod slowly.

“Did you really like him?” he questions so softly that you almost do not hear him. “Renjun?” he clarifies after you stay quiet (even though it was just a few seconds).

“Yeah,” you answer quietly, not entirely sure if you even want him to hear you, the ambience settling into something melancholier. “But I love you.”

It seems like he ignores you.

“Why didn’t you get with him?”

“You don’t mean that.”

You shake your head, pulling back, your eyes painfully dry. All the fuzzy spots from your orgasm earlier connect the dots in your head, and you wonder what this is, if he doubts you, doesn’t trust you.

But he agrees, “You’re right. I just … I mean, why are you with me instead?”

“Instead?” you ask. You come back to him – it’s always him, and you hold his face, making him look at you. “I’m not with you instead of Renjun. There’s no compet!tion. I love you,” you enunciate the confession again to really emphasize it.

“But –“

It doesn’t seem to stick. And you sigh with your entire body, slumping away from him. “Does it really bother you that much?” You shift around, biting your lip while his soft c.ock scrambles inside you. He meets your eyes this time, scanning your pupils for more reassurance. “You are kind and smart and hard-working and insanely talented, and … and I love you.” He stays quiet, and you almost throttle him, needing a bit of affection too. “Say it back,” you beg, differently from minutes ago. You drop your forehead on his shoulder. “Please.”

Yangyang seems to understand and reciprocates, “I love you too.”

You pull yourself to face him and beam, mirroring his tender gummy smile. Then, you kiss him again, toppling him into the pillows. He rolls you over, causing you to giggle loudly as he peppers small bites along your cheeks, across your nose, and whispers the same confession on loop.

“I love you,” he ends, kissing you deeply. He comes up for air, inhaling sharply. “So, stay the night with me tomorrow – tonight. At my place.” He brushes your hair away from your face, to get a better look at the sweet glaze in your eyes. You think that you fall in love a little more, especially with all his domestic acts.

“Okay,” you agree.

“Okay,” he repeats. “Okay.” He nods his head, smiling wider, if possible, and kisses you over and over and over again.

Funny thing about Fridays: Yangyang doesn’t have a morning class, doesn’t have class at all actually; meanwhile, you have another art history class, at eight. The damn class is 90-minutes, so it is held three times a week. His lectures, you recall bitterly, go on for 2-3 hours each, granting him the three day weekend that every college student desires, pushing his classes to the first four business days of the week. That means he can stay up all night Thursday to Saturday, gaming for long hours into the night – not that you get to see it often, because when you do stop by the frat house, you spend time with anyone else. And usually, someone is visiting at the same time. You know, you write yourself into Xiaojun and Sicheng’s pool compet!tion, or watch moves with Lucas, but tonight (really morning, considering that it is 1 A.M.), you sit with Yangyang in his wide gaming chair, thumbing at The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (BotW) while he plays Overwatch with Haechan and Jeno. Thankfully, you don’t have any major assignments due later or any in-class presentations, so you can just curl up next to your boyfriend and pull an all-nighter, stealing snacks and drinks from his new mini-fridge so that you can avoid accidentally bumping into one of his roommates. Although, you Uber’ed to his place with a box of friend chicken and side dishes.

After the same gold lynel kills of Link for the third time in a row (the one in the Hebra region, outside the shrine, that has a sword you want), you lazily toss the controller onto his desk. Dying again and again gets frustrating, and you need to relieve the buzz. So, you turn to Yangyang, who looks to be in the middle of a campaign (is that what his levels are called?), and start asking him questions about his video game. Like, you know how sometimes people get so desperately horny that they ask their partner to explain Overwatch to them? Yeah, that is exactly how this feels, as Yangyang’s distracted voice describes his location and next move. And it is no wonder that he is a psych major – he is good at communication.

“What does that character do?” you whisper-ask, while the screen refreshes after he wins a battle.

“That’s an attacker.”

“A huh,” you nod along. You vaguely know what that means, based on the t!tle and all your years of the Club Penguin Card Jitsu game. “And that one?”

Yangyang removes his headset to around his neck and faces you, grinning sideways. “Are we sharing interests right now?” He pushes your legs apart, then straddles you over his thigh. His desk separates you and the game, pressing a fine line between the bones in your spinal cord. He turns the microphone down, muting himself from his friends. It is one thing for the two of you to be alone in the frat house and another for his close friends to physically hear you in his arms. “Or are you just needy for my attention?” Yangyang pulls one hand on your skin, rubbing small soothing circles. “That’s a sign of a relationship, you know.” He leans into your ear, whispering, “Like a date.”

You push him against the chair cushions, scrunching your nose at his laughter. “As if we haven’t done that already,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes for emphasis.

“What?” he asks. “Go on a date?”

You nod your head. Neither of you really call these types of things dates, but they are. Sometimes you also hang out in public, alone, maybe holding hand or kissing, even though lately it seems like you stay inside and study and have sex all the time. Actually, there is a rave going on this weekend with one of your favorite DJs – one shared equally by the two of you. You have yet to invite Yangyang, but now seems like a good time.

“You don’t really care about my games,” he pouts, “Do you?”

“I’m sorry,” you agree, pouting with him. “I don’t speak nerd.”

Yangyang gasps, sitting up straighter. “It’s not a nerd thing! It’s a game of strategy!”

You shake your head, still not understanding. “I don’t speak virgin either.”

He slaps your ass. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“Am I supposed to be the virgin, in this scenario?”

“Are you becoming a born-again virgin?”

You shrug. “What would you do if I did?” You completely straddle his lap, scooting up his thighs until his d!ck sits at attention between your abdomens, and you whisper in his ear, “Would you leave me?” You bite his ear, softly licking the external side then blowing on it. “Would you ruin me? Take it away?”

“Virginity is a social construct,” he reminds you, growling. He slips his hands into your underwear. “I’ll ruin you right now.”

Except, another round on his game loads, and you find yourself leaning onto his shoulder opposite the microphone so that he can play, despite the insane wetness soaking your underwear right now. Then, two more games go by and you want his attention. He asked you to stay the night with him, and this doesn’t necessarily feel like that. So, you get off his lap, slithering down his legs onto the ground, onto your knees.

First, you untie his pants and spring his d!ck out. It’s not difficult, because (1) he has pyjama bottoms on, and (2) he manspreads like a motherfucker, giving you easy access. Then, the blow job starts. You lick your palm a couple times and angle his tip in your mouth, starting soft. His legs tense momentarily, making you consider stopping, but a hand appears, pushing you halfway down his length.

“You look so pretty down there, angel.”

He obviously did not actually look at you; you know because he usually makes eye contact when he is close to cumming, enjoying the way your eyes glass over. And because his keyboard continues clicking.

You continue on that way – keeping one hand squeezed halfway down his d!ck; hollowing your cheeks, adding extra suction all over his tip; flattening your tongue on the underside and rolling it like sushi at the very top. Despite his d!ck being fully erect in your mouth, his attention is less than enthusiastic, fingers working diligently on those numbers. It gives you an idea. You start bobbing your head faster, in tune with his typing, egged on by his compet!tiveness. And when his voice goes up an octave, your grip gets tighter, only slacking when you drop back down halfway. His groan echoes in your ear, sounding like he lost (whatever that means), so you pull off. He breathes a little bit harder after the smacking sound falls from your lips, preceding all the fluttering little kisses down his shaft. You hold his d!ck up and lick one stripe up between his balls, and he shouts at his friends:

“Alright! I’m done for the night. Play tomorrow. Bye!”

Yangyang pulls you to your feet, standing with you. He scans your eyes, pulling you closer and closer, debating whether to kiss you or not; he never really kisses you after you suck his d!ck, unless he eats you out too.

“Bed now,” he orders you in whispers, patting your butt a little too hard. You fall onto his queen-sized mattress stomach down, bouncing with his fluffy duvet. He kneels next to you, lifting his sweater off your thighs and spanking you again, three times. Each smack precedes a loud, high-pitched gasp. “You’re so needy.”

“Fuck,” you mutter at a particularly hard hit, his hand slipping to the wet p.ussy lips that need some friction. “Is that a bad thing?”

A door shuts loudly down the hall, making you two straighten up in attention. You prop yourself forward on your elbows, staring at the door. Yangyang watches your reaction, his ears alert and back facing the door. You hear Hendery walking up the stairs, something jangling with him, like keys or plates. A second pair of feet march with him, making you look at Yangyang. He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head; he thought everyone was going to be gone this weekend, which does not apparently start on Fridays for his roommates.

“You’re going to need to be quiet,” he whispers. This is nothing new. The two of you constantly fuck, like rabbits, regardless if anyone can hear you, but Hendery is two rooms down and Yangyang is sliding two fingers knuckle deep until hitting the urethral sponge. His curling has your thighs tensing to the point of shaking. As he settles between your legs (not letting up on the pressure), he taps your sternum twice, telling you to keep still and quiet.

But you moan. It just comes out, not something that you can control. Especially when he nips all around your clit, lip biting at your skin and sucking small bruises. He keeps going like this, nodding his head for more vibrations everywhere except the most sensitive spot. Your breath gets more labored, breaking loudly.

“You need to be quieter,” he reminds you.

“Mmm, I can’t. You’ll have to move slower.”

Yangyang speeds up his fingers. “Not a chance.” He swipes his thumb across your clit once, then twice, then harder, giving it a little pinch. “Even if you cum, I’m still going.”

You whine, disagreeing. “Mmm mmm, you can’t say things like that. Fuck –“ He starts crawling over your body, peppering light touches along your stomach, around your b.oobs, above your collarbone. “- I want to cum.” You mewl, again frustrated, because he pulls his fingers out. He gestures you to shush, putting them in your mouth. With his hands occupied around your face and throat, his d!ck jostles, sliding between your p.ussy lips without actually entering. “Please,” you beg, “I want to cum so bad.”

“Ugh,” Yangyang moans in your ear, this time guiding himself inside your warm and aching hole. “I know,” he tells you. “I can feel it.” He rotates onto his side, propping up one of his legs to get into an easier position where he can pound you better. You grab one of the pillows, briefly arresting it with your nails acting like handcuffs before settling it under your oblique. The new angle puts Yangyang right back at your G-spot, his tip abusing the sponge harshly. “You’re milking my c.ock, huh? You’re – You want me so bad, huh?”

“Mm hmm, yeah,” you agree. His gaze fixates on the way your ass claps against his pelvis. He doesn’t even have to lead you anymore; you start backing up on him, motivated the rougher he tugs your hair. “Please, please,” you chant in whispers. He spreads your cheeks, obsessed with the disappearing act you pull, needing to see it more.

“Fuck,” he groans. He cups your b.oob off the mattress, supporting the other one with his arm, and pinches at your n!pple, swirling it around between his thumb and index finger. “Come on, pretty girl. You need to cum?” You nod your head fervently, face warming intensely. “So, cum on my c.ock. You can do it; come on.” He drops your chest for your neck, pushing your head into the blankets so he can kiss you again, incoherently vibrating broken praises on your lips.

“Yangyang, Yangyang, I’m – I’m – Harder, please. I’m so – Oh, fuck.”

He moans your name seconds after, spilling into your pulsating core, and relaxes, chest falling into an equilibria rhythm with yours. His c.ock softens, finishing its workout, so you swing your leg away from him and spin around, placing a hand on his chest. You stare at him for a little bit, like watching the sun set. He peaks an eye open, then closes it quickly, teasing you because he knows that you saw it.

“You’re going to get cross-eyed staring at me,” Yangyang jokes.

“Then let me get cross-eyed,” you counter, slithering an arm under his head like a neck cushion.

“That’s disgusting.”

You scoff, pulling on the ends of his hair. “You’re disgusting.”

He smacks your butt lightly. It is definitely his favorite punishment. “And you can call it a kink, fyi.” He opens his eyes in time to see you pout, and in return, he pecks your lips, pulling away just as fast.

You look over his shoulder at the time: 2 A.M. and bury your face in his chest. “We need to stop sleeping so late. My body can’t handle this.”

“My body can handle yours.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, even though he would not be ready to go again, at least for twenty minutes.

You chew on your lip a little bit, then repeat a post-sex tradition (well, it has essentially become a tradition this week). “Can I ask you a question?”

Yangyang kisses your shoulder, wrapping a leg around yours to keep you locked nearby. “Of course, anything.”

“Do you want to go to the rave with me, this weekend?”

“Like,” he processes, still hidden the crevice of your neck, “as in a date?” He lays across your arm, and you notice the glint in his eye. “Are you asking me out? I was supposed to do that!”

“Oh?” you return the tease. “We can just not go then, and I’ll wait for you to ask me out.” You start getting up, but he drags you back down, tugging specifically on your hand. He kisses you as a confirmation that yes, he wants to go; he wants nothing more than to go on a real date with you.

[riversofmars]

I know you must have done wedding prompts before but perhaps one where the Doctor is trying to find something to wear but keeps coming up with all the stupid suits or other oddball clothes River dislikes and refuses River's suggestions of anything decent?

Hello all! Just back from holiday in the middle of nowhere and brought loads of fanfic content back! To start us off, a silly prompt filler! I've had a lot of fun prompts that all felt a bit too short for one thing so I've mixed a whole lot of them together for a chaotic and utterly typical day in the life of River and the Doctor! Hope you like it!

Word count: ~3k

Rating: G

Read below or on AO3

A Day in the Life

“You’re up early,“ River commented, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen in the TARDIS. She had woken up alone which wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the Doctor didn’t sleep much. She was, however, surprised to find her busying herself in the kitchen, rather than tinkering around the TARDIS.

“Big day today!“ The Doctor announced with a grin and turned around, she was waving a spatula about, and batter had somehow found its way into her hair and onto her entire outfit. River couldn’t help but chuckle, her hearts warming at the adorable sight in front of her. She pushed herself off the doorframe and made her way over to her wife.

“Doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be. We have a time machine, after all,“ she pointed out, recalling the conversation they had had last night. They had been invited to a wedding, which sounded a lot more recent than it was. The wedding had of course taken place thousands of years ago and they had encountered the happy couple many times since, but that wasn’t to say they wouldn’t be at their wedding at some point. The Doctor seemed to have decided that the time had come.

“No, no, I think it would be a nice thing to do today,“ the Doctor nodded enthusiastically and turned back to the stove to flip what looked like a pancake.

“Feeling sentimental?“ River asked, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Maybe…“ The Doctor gave a little shrug and proceeded to curse most colourfully when the pancake split as she flipped it, and batter splashed everywhere as it crashed down.

“Is this something to do with that new face of yours?“ River hummed, nuzzling into her neck placing a soft kiss there.

“Something to do with you not being stuck in the library anymore,“ the Doctor answered more sincerely than River would have anticipated.

“Fair point,“ she had to agree. Life had been very different for them since the Doctor had freed her from the Library. For the first time - with the exception of their years on Darillium - they were living together in linear time. No running, no spoilers, just time, little time together, and they both appreciated it more than they could ever find the words to say.

“Sit down, breakfast is almost ready,“ the Doctor smiled and turned her head for a brief kiss.

“What are you making?“ River asked, eyeing the mess on the stove.

“Pancakes,“ the Doctor answered, bewildered, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“You sure about that?“ River frowned. Not only the consistency was suspect, the colour as well, upon closer observation.

“Oi, of course I’m sure!“ The Doctor exclaimed. “Special recipe. It’s from one of those colony worlds, over the far side of the Andromeda Galaxy. See, they don’t have chickens there so the eggs they use are…“

“Right,“ River nodded and decided that was all she needed to know to skip breakfast.

“And they don’t have maple syrup either but there is this really nice substitute they got…“ The Doctor went on and reached for a fork. She scooped up a presumably baked sample of the pancake and dipped it into some odd-looking white liquid in a bowl. She held it out to River expectantly.

“I’m gonna have to take your word for it,“ River hummed and let go of her to put some distance between herself and the offending pancake.

“Try it!“ The Doctor insisted, evidently hurt at her rejection. “It’s lush!“ She took the bite herself, sampling her own cooking, and was careful not to let her expression give any indication on the quality of the food.

“No, I’m good, watching my figure, with the dress and everything,“ River waved it off with a polite smile.

“You’re silly. You look absolutely beautiful,“ the Doctor seemed put out that she would even think that. She grabbed her hand to hold her back while scooping up another bite for her.

“And I really don’t want to try that,“ River grimaced, and with a sigh the Doctor ate the second bite too.

“I've been slaving in this kitchen for hours!“

“And I am ever so grateful.“ River pecked her cheek trying her best to avoid the sticky syrup all over her lips.

“Not even a proper kiss?“ The Doctor pouted.

“Not like that!“ River pointed out the sticky liquid and quickly pulled away before she had to sample the cooking second hand.

“Oi!“ The Doctor called, disappointed.

“Let’s go and pick out our outfits then!“ River grinned, skipping back to their bedroom.

——

“No… no…“ River shook her head vehemently.

“What do you mean, no? This is brilliant,“ the Doctor insisted, taking a twirl in a rainbow-coloured suit.

“No, it’s not, I’m not having it,“ River put her foot down. This was the fourth outfit the Doctor had tried and things were only getting worse.

“But…!“ The Doctor looked down at herself, disappointed. She thought this time she had picked a winner. The main problem was that she just didn’t really see the difference or what River’s issue was, else she would have been able to make a better choice. She was left guessing.

“No! Get something else!“ River sighed, getting frustrated.

“How about this?!“ The Doctor picked up another suit from the rack and River groaned:

“It literally is the same suit but in a different colour!“

“Brings out my eyes though, doesn’t it!“ The Doctor tried to reason but River wasn’t having it:

“No!“ She exclaimed and marched over to the rack herself. “Here, let me have a look…“ She started pushing through the coat hangers. “How about this?“ She pulled out a dress for a change and held it out to her, it was sky blue and silky.

“No.“ The Doctor shook her head immediately.

“Or this?“ River chose a red dress next that she remembered wearing herself for some occasion or another.

“I’m not going to wear one of your dresses!“ The Doctor huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“They’re not all my dresses… I’m sure this one is my mum’s,“ River mused, looking at a green one that she only had vague recollections of.

“No!“ The Doctor retorted decisively.

“Then I think we have reached an impasse…“ River sighed, putting all the dresses back. “I think we need to go shopping,“ she announced.

“River…“ The Doctor rubbed her face, she didn’t like the idea of it at all. .

“Unless you settle on one of my suggestions?“ River suggested sweetly and the Doctor shook her head.

“No.“

“Then, we’re going shopping,“ River decided, not taking no for an answer.

“What if I don’t dress up?“ The Doctor suggested in a last ditch attempt.

“Or you could wear nothing at all…“ River suggested with a sly smirk, and the Doctor blushed. “But no-one but me would appreciate that, so we’re going shopping.“

“Fine…“ The Doctor huffed.

——

“Right, back to the TARDIS,“ River announced triumphantly.

“I can’t believe you've dragged me around the shops…“ The Doctor was carrying several bags and did her best to avoid bumping into people. It was incredibly busy. They had come to the biggest shopping centre in the universe, the shopping planet aptly called “Capitalism“, which was rather on the nose but at least the people knew what this place was all about.

“Only until we found something we both liked well enough. Marriage is all about compromise, Sweetie,“ River chuckled, pleased that they had finally put the pesty issue to bed. Now it was just a matter of getting back to the TARDIS, changing into their new outfits and enjoying a very special day with some of their closest friends.

“Look over there…“ The Doctor halted as she spotted a little girl, no older than five, wandering around by herself.

“She looks lost…“ River had to agree and stopped walking as well. The girl was looking around, clearly searching for something or someone. It was far too busy for a child that age to be left to her own devices.

“Hello, are you okay? Who are you here with?“ The Doctor decided they couldn’t just carry on, instead she walked over to talk to the child, her wife close behind.

“I’m looking for my parents.“ The little girl answered reluctantly, eyeing the two of them as if she wasn’t sure whether she could trust them.

“Where did you last see them? Maybe we can help, you really shouldn’t be here on your own, it’s so busy,“ the Doctor scanned around the crowd but should see anyone that might be looking for a child in turn.

“I lost them in the crowd, we were meant to go to the entertainment level…“ The girl carried on to explain and pointed to a big poster on the other side of the walkway.

“Okay, well, maybe they went there and are waiting there for you now, shall we see if we can find them?“ River suggested, as it was as good a place as any to start.

——

“Entertainment is saying a bit much…“ River huffed as they slowly advanced into the amusement deck. It was surprisingly quiet, considering the fact that it was meant to be a fun place.

“Quite creepy, isn’t it…“ The Doctor agreed, eyeing up mechanical statues that lined the walls. Up ahead was a large entrance to what resembled an amusement park, only it was half-hidden behind the shutters, and there was no way of looking inside properly.

“Maybe we should go and talk to the security staff, make an announcement or something…“ River mused as she didn’t like the look of the place.

“That’s my mum’s scarf!“ The girl exclaimed as she spotted a yellow scarf not far from the entrance. River and the Doctor exchanged knowing looks.

“Maybe they didn’t lose you at all, maybe they were taken…“ The Doctor mused and pulled out her sonic screwdriver, which was quite a struggle with her shopping bags in hand. She gave the scarf and then the entrance a scan.

“Taken?!“ The girl exclaimed, terrified, and River was quick to pick her up and hug her.

“Don’t say things like that!“ She hissed at her wife who mumbled an apology.

“Sorry…“ she patted the child’s arm who had wrapped her arms around River’s neck. “We’re gonna find them in no time.“ The Doctor assured her and scanned the way up ahead again. “See, there’s lifesigns up ahead.“ Slowly, they started making their way inside the park.

The place was abandoned and they walked in silence until suddenly there was movement.

“AH!“ It was River that screamed first, and before the Doctor could do anything, she unloaded her blaster at a mechanical clown.

“River!!“ The Doctor exclaimed, shocked, as the girl screamed as well and buried her face in River’s neck.

“I just… really hate clowns, OKAY?!“ River took a deep breath, advancing carefully towards the thoroughly beat up statue.

“Right, okay, you’ve really shown that one who’s boss…!“ The Doctor commented, relaxing a little when River put her gun away upon finding the clown completely broken.

“Emily!“ A voice called up ahead and River and the Doctor looked up.

“Mum!“ The girl exclaimed and River set her down, smiling, at the woman running towards her.

“It was one way, we couldn’t turn around, we thought you’d gone in!“ The woman scooped up her daughter in a tight hug and the Doctor and River exchanged smiles.  “Thank you so much for bringing her here!“ The mother carried on, immense relief in her voice.

“All is well that ends well,“ River smiled and looped her arm around that of her wife.

“We’d better go, before someone makes us pay for the damage on that clown…“ The Doctor chuckled and captured River's lips in a kiss before she could get affronted.

——

“Happy?“ River asked, giving her wife a sideways glance.

“Very happy!“ The Doctor nodded, as she adjusted her waistcoat. She was wearing a tailored grey suit with an emerald green bow tie that matched the dress River wore. It was long and fitted, showing off her curves perfectly without being too revealing.

“Right then, let’s do this.“ River smiled and took her wife’s arm as she offered it to her.

“Nice venue!“ River commented as they stepped outside the TARDIS. They found themselves in a Victorian manor house.

“Looks oddly familiar…“ The Doctor mused with a frown, getting an odd sense of déjà vu.

“You’ve not been here before, have you?“ River asked, recognising the look on her face. She felt they were in for a surprise.

“I think I would remember…“ The Doctor mused, scanning the room some more. That’s when she spotted it: the second TARDIS on the other side of the room. “Oh no!“ She breathed.

“Timelines crossing, that’s why you don’t remember…“ River chuckled and frowned when she spotted the other Doctor. Tall with floppy hair, bowtie, and a girl following close behind. “But who is that?!“

“Okay, all of this was a huge misunderstanding…“ The Doctor reached for her wife’s hand intent on pulling her back to the TARDIS but River was too curious to let this opportunity pass them by. Particularly since the girl who was following the young Doctor was doing her best to cling to his arm.

“Doctor?“ River flashed him a bright smile, pulling her wife along.

“River!“ The younger Doctor recognised her and the colour drained from his face. He was doing his best to shake off the girl on his arm while going bright red in the face. “Oh no, no no no…“

“Who’s this darling?“ The young girl piped up to which River raised her eyebrows.

“This is my…“ The young Doctor cleared his throat as he gestured to his wife, trying to make introductions.

“Darling?“ River echoed with a good-natured smile, already relishing in his discomfort.

“Oh God, I think I remember this…“ The blonde Doctor groaned next to her wife, running her hand through her hair nervously. This was not where they were meant to end up when she had set the TARDIS going.

“And what is this ?“ River asked and the younger Doctor stammered:

“It’s really not what it looks like…“

“I thought we were going to Vastra and Jenny’s wedding, we have been meaning to go for ages!“ River sighed, pursing her lips, raising her questioning eyebrow.

“I must have… overshot a little…“ The blonde Doctor admitted.

“River, I can explain, see there was this thing…“ The other Doctor started.

“There is always a thing…“ River hummed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She was doing her very best to remain serious. It wasn’t exactly the first time she had caught her spouse in an awkward position and she didn’t care in the least, but she greatly enjoyed winding them up.

“Please, let’s leave this horrible place and start our life together…“ The girl piped up again, wrapping her arms around the young Doctor’s waist who struggled to push her off.

“Yeah, about that…“ He stuttered.

“There was this whole forced marriage cult that I was trying to break up and I don’t know what happened, suddenly I was married to this girl and…“ The blonde Doctor decided to add some context at last.

“Ah.“ River smirked.

“It was an accident…“ The younger Doctor interjected immediately.

“We will leave you to deal with this accident then and you can make it up to me next time you see me,“ River announced with great amusement.

“Yes well… but what about you, do I not get to be jealous?“ The younger Doctor suddenly realised, pointing to his future self.

“I am you,“ the Doctor retorted dryly, as if it wasn’t obvious by now.

“Right…“ The other Doctor looked his future self up and down. “Nice suit.“

“She is you? I am married to both of you?“ The girl interjected, drawing everyone’s attention, as a huge smile spread across her face at the prospect. She was taking the whole thing surprisingly well which probably had a lot to do with having regained her freedom after what could be considered a rather hopeless existence.

“You are married to neither one of us. She is. We’re not married, 'cause I was already married,“ the younger Doctor explained, hoping to clear things up once and for all. This was just typical. Try and do one nice thing and get caught out by your wife for it.

“She’s your wife?“ The girl looked to River but not with animosity, more like blatant fascination and probably considering if there was a case to be made for an extended arrangement.

“She’s something.“ The older Doctor hummed and got a gentle slap to the arm for it.

“So… Vastra and Jenny’s wedding? Or are we postponing that again?“ River turned back to her wife in amusement, but only after giving the girl a wink.

“Ohh you’re off to see Vastra and Jenny? Been meaning to do that for ages, can we all go?“ The younger Doctor grinned in excitement and River chuckled:

“I think you got something else to sort out first…“

[nightswithkookmin]

Hiiii, please response me😭

Honestly I wonder why Jk jealous of taemin when taemin & jimin having friendship?? I mean I can clearly see jk's jealousy. Please answer..... Borahae 💜

Ehhhhhh??????? JK is jealous of Taemin????

That's both an understatement and the most ridiculous thing I ever heard! Lol

Don't be shy, he wants to kill him. Say it! Lmho

Why is JK jealous of Taemin? Sounds like an existential question and I don't want to get into all of that mess.

I just slicked my edges down. Can't have these angry mobs peeling it off by force 🤧

But I get it. I used to find JK and Taemin's dynamic intriguing too but frankly, I'm over it. Lol.

I don't think it's as deep as the fandom make it seem. Especially not in 2021.

Word on the streets was Taemin had a thing for JM? and JK wasn't too happy about that- not sure about that but I can't fault him if ever he did. It's Jimin. Who doesn't want him.

But I think it's more delicate than that.

Besides, Jealousy shouldn't be our only go to label to explain every Jungkook emotion out there where JM is concerned.

Personally, I've sought to revolutionize the term Jeonlous and Jimlous in the way that we as a fandom perceive and think on it as a complex human emotion, one that centers mostly on boundaries rather than frivolous feelings of possessiveness or envy.

So to me, if JK really is 'jealous' in regards to Taemin then I'd assume it's because Taemin breached his personal boundaries where JM is concerned. It's as simple as that.

Which I believe was the case.

I try not to speculate on dynamics other than BTS's as it goes against my better conscience- Yes I have one. Shut up and read. Lol.

I tortured myself to death, figuratively speaking of course, the last time I tried commenting on a dynamic outside of BTS- JK and Mijoo's situation.

I don't think it's ethical...

When it comes to JK and Taemin's dynamic, one thing you should understand is they aren't friends. Not that we know of.

Jimin and Taemin are friends in the same interest group, the Padding Squad. JK isn't a member of that interest group- perhaps because he doesn't share their interests.

Jhope passed on becoming a member of the Padding Squad because his hobbies and interests didn't align with that of the members- Sungwoon. He introduced Sungwoon to Suga instead who then introduced him to JM.

One thing that Jhope said about Sungwoon was that he enjoyed outing which was a lifestyle incompatible with his own.

Now since Sungwoon said he clicked with JM right away, I'd assume its because JM enjoyed going out and stuff like that- among other things.

Jk in those days wasn't known as the outing kind and preferred staying indoors to going out. I think this is one of the contrasts between JK and Jimin's personalities.

So if JM has a bunch of friends who enjoy going out as much, then I don't see how JK would fit into that circle.

Taemin and JK move in totally different circles. They don't have much in common beyond the fact they are both close to Jimin. In my opinion. I could be wrong.

Jimin have said he doesn't like to share his friends but of course we've seen him, Sungwoon and JK hang out a few times. Those three have a friendship going on unlike in TaeminMinKook's case.

It's speculated, Jimin introduced JK to Sungwoon but this was during one of Sungwoon's time off and the three got to hang together which I think is great.

Not sure if, JM has had similar opportunity to introduce Taemin and JK. That would depend on their schedules and what they do during their free time.

Introductions are necessary in friendship culture and we cannot undervalue JM's role in facilitating camaradship between those two.

If they are 'not friends' ask JM why. Smirk.

Their 'differences' and why their 'not friends' to me has more to do with their unique individualities and interests but also their age difference and culture?

Jealousy sounds plausible but you have to consider the fact age is a huge thing in the South Korean culture.

Taemin is much older than JK and ordinarily we cannot reasonably expect for them to be as close much less be friends to begin with- per the dictates of their culture.

As much as we love to rave on about the hyung/dongsaeng dynamics in their culture, from the little I know of their culture, older people and younger people aren't expected to mingle so easily or act so casually.

Besides, hyung/dongsaengs aren't considered friendmates in their culture.

A high level of respect and reverence is required within such a dynamic and boundaries are expected to be upheld at all times too so I guess we can chalk it up to that too I think.

The only way a younger person can be considered friends with or close with or even treat an older person as 'a friend' is if the older one allows for that level of familiarity between them.

Without that kind of permission, their relationship is viewed as strictly an older hyung to younger dongsaeng relationship and formality must be respected by both sides.

I think we've talked about this? This is what JK was going on about in his conversation with Tae in Soop. Tae was giving JK permission to treat him as 'friends' within the group but JK insisted on the formality and boundaries expected between them as hyung as and dongsaeng.

If JK believes he needs to uphold boundaries with people older than him and not get too close to them, what makes you think he would consider older people besides his bandmates 'friends' or treat them casually like one?

The thing about JK, he is a bit cliquey... in my opinion that is. I'm gonna get in trouble, am I not? Chilee.

I often talk about JK and exclusivity or his tendencies for exclusive behaviors....

Once my sister told me, when she first enrolled to uni, how everyone she'd met would ask of her age first before they even asked which country she was from and some of the girls on her floor wouldn't talk to her because they considered her older than them and as such kept their distance or something like that- out of respect for and she had to give those that fuxked with her permission to address her a casual way- personally, I thought they were just being ageists and racists as fuck but then a year into her stay she said she sort of got the hang of it. That it was a cultural thing- Stockholms is real people. Lmho.

Bitxh wouldn't know a friend from a foe. Can't relate. Foe till proven friends!

Gotta smart yourself out here- Hold on...

Is this why I don't have no friends???!!!!!

😥😥😥😥😥💀

Chilee. This is not good.

She explained, most of the people she later became friends with seemed to prefer making friends with foreigners because they felt the age barrier thingy didn't apply there and they had the freedom to express themselves freely with them regardless of their age.

People that are considered 'friends' in their culture are usually people around the same age while a hyung/dongsaeng friendship dynamic often invite brows and gazes- if you know what I mean. A hyung who allows a dongsaeng to be friends with them gives that dongsaeng status at best, at worst is opening the younger one to cultural criticism especially in how the older one is addressed.

So when Namjoon refers to Jimin as a friend it hits hard and reflects how deep and special their bond is as compared to say Vmin or NamHope who are close in age. Same age friendships would have to be qualified to denote how special their bond is. So for Vmin you'd see them going out of their way to talk about that they are soulmates, besties etc.

When JM talks about that all of his friends are hyungs, it a form of social proof. One cannot be friends with hyungs just like that. Jimin is cool and has social status.

If Jimin ever refers to JK as a friend he would be admitting he allows for a certain level of familiarity between them that is out of the ordinary just as his dynamic with Taemin and RM is.

I say all this so you can deep it when an older says to a young one, he is my friend.

RM says JM is his friend.

Mess with Minimoni, I'll stab you.

Taemin says JM is his closest 'friend' in the padding squad- or maybe I misunderstood what he meant but he keeps talking about Jimin and how close they are and how special their relationship is in the media and what not...

Deep it and deep it for JK too. Lmho.

He's lucky he is alive!

In my opinion, JK doesn't do too well around people who pull ranks over him. He tends to have his guard up around them and he tries to maintain formality with them.

It all depends on how comfortable JK is around certain group of friends Jimin has. Just as, it's not all friends of JK JM vibes with. Smirk.

Ok listen, I tried this sane shipper thingy yall recommended, it's not working for me-

If Taemin is not fucking with JK, JK is not gonna be fucking with him. So simple. I tried beating around the bush but chilee JK is not the problem Taemin is. There I said it.

In my opinion of course.

Whatever thing they had going on seemed personal and it could be as a result of anything.

It could be JK doesn't agree with his choices, lifestyle or influence on JM. It could also be Taemin does not approve of JK for JM. It could be he said something JK took offense at. Literally anything.

Whereas JK have reacted strongly to him in the past, I don't think I've seen Taemin have a similar strong reaction to JK. I could be wrong.

To me, he's always laughed those moments off as if JK were overreacting to something trivial- which, it's Jk, I won't put it past him but I find that behavior annoying and condescending as fuck coming from Taemin. No disrespect to Taemin.

For whatever reason, JM has always put his friendships on a pedestal talking about that his relationships is gold to him and what not and he prides himself in the fact he goes out of his way to nurture his relationships.... cool.

Love it for him.

But JK on the other hand has been striving to put up boundaries for JM in regards to the people he surrounds himself with and I don't think Taemin is an exception or was an exception.

JK has a lot of boundaries, I keep saying and they may not be the kind of boundaries you expect to see from him but he has them regardless.

He prefers for instance not to be so casual with people older than him for obvious reasons as he keeps saying, I'd assume it's a value he's tried to pass on to JM several times over the years- what is JM's view on that? Clearly JM has his own values.

JK has said he doesn't have friends and when he started making friends they were all within the same age group- the 97 liners.

JM on the other hand says all his friends are hyungs and he has one same age friend- V. Sidenote: Can't he just make Idol friends within the same age group besides V?

What goes on?!

Do y'all see the conflict of values there?

It's not always about Jealousy if you ask me.

Their values on certain things don't align.

I'm sorry. Lmho.

I mean I have said this several times now!

It's taken JK a hot minute to come to terms with, accept and get used to certain things especially in his relationship and personal life and it shows in the way he talked about 'dressing up' more often in his recent VLive, and how he seems to be acknowledging that he is a celebrity with power and status and he has to be conscious of that going forward.

Contrast that with a two years ago when he didn't even care about how he dressed to the airport and Jm said he had to use tactics to get him to get rid of his old bag or even care about how he dressed.

Significant improvement.

Jimin, as we've said claims he's come to the realization friends ain't shit- the emphasis is mine. Lol.

So I guess my answer to your question is, I don't think JK is jealous necessarily when it comes to Taemin. He reacts to him the same way he reacts to Namjoon or whosoever breaches his boundaries in regards to JM.

And that to me translates as, Taemin doesn't respect JK's boundaries for whatever reason. It could be because like I said, he doesn't think JK has a place in JM's space as his boyfriend, could be because he treats JK as JM's dongsaeng and not his equal partner.

It could be JK doesn't approve of Taemin's friendship with Jimin because he expects Jm to have boundaries especially with certain people around him- I mean I wonder how many of their friends know they are a thing. Can't be all of them💀

That too can create issues with the way they handle their boundaries with either of Jikook.

Or it can be because he is jealous too. We can't know for sure.

Signed,

GOLDY

[miss-tc-nova]

Kupo - Riku x Reader

Ooo, I like this one. However, because I already did a haunted house with Hermod, I’m gonna mosey on over to the carnival! I hope you enjoy, anon!

~~~~~

              Eyes on the horizon, I am literally bouncing down the street. The only thing preventing me from bursting into a sprint and shoving Sora out of the way is the grip on my hand holding me in place.

              “Will you calm down,” Riku says. I’m almost one hundred percent certain he’s enjoying the torture he’s putting me through.

              “But Riku! It’s the carnival!” I reply, waving at the rides and booths set up in the distance. “It only comes to Destiny Islands once a year! How are you not excited?!”

              Kairi, walking ahead of us with Sora, turns back. “Cut him some slack. Riku and Sora only got to go to the carnival a couple times.”

              “Yeah,” adds Sora. “Our parents were usually busy when it came around, so we hung out on the island instead.”

              “So he should be even more excited! C’moooooooooon!” The young man easily resists my pulling. “How are you walking even slower?! Aaaaarrrrggghhhh!”

              “What are you complaining about? We’re here.”

              I pause; he’s right. We’re finally here and I feel the built-up excitement just might pop. The bright lights and colors, the mouth-watering smells, the exhilarating rides: it’s been years since I’ve been to a carnival myself so I don’t even know where to start.

              Someone walks by with a plate and Sora practically starts drooling. “What is that? Can we get one?”

              Okay, I know one place not to start.

              “No! You can’t eat yet!” I tell him.

              “Aww, why not?”

              I point to the claw-like structure waving several rows of seats in the air. “Because the last thing you want to do is pay for carnival food and then go on that.”

              He waves me off. “I’ll be fine.”

              I slap that hand down. “No! Ride first, then funnel cake!”

              His blue eyes go wide. “Funnel cake?!”

              “Later!”

              As per my demands, we take on the rides first. Due to space, the rides are situated on either side of the carnival; so on our way to the other side, we pass through the game booths. Lines of stall attendants call out to patrons trying to lure them in. Some seem deceptively easy or just like a good time. On top of that, there’s an old rivalry sparking between Sora and Riku.

              And then I spot it.

              My fingers turn into a death grip around Riku’s hand as I emit the loudest gasp of my life.

              “KUPO!”

              “What?”

              Releasing my boyfriend, I lose the group and slip through the crowd like a snake until I pop up at my targeted booth. There’s a hopeful grin on my face as I awe at the wonderous prize I hope to own by the night’s end. White plushies decorate the shelves in various sizes and even a few different colors.

              “What the hell are you doing?!” Riku catches up, looking miffed. “You can’t freak me out like that!”

              Pointing at the plush hanging above the game, I say, “It’s a moogle, kupo!”

              His green eyes spot my distraction and a sigh emits from his mouth. “You still can’t just freak out like that.”

              “My bad,” I say with a cheeky grin.

              Green eyes roll; he can’t argue with me when I’ve admitted fault, so he moves on. “Anyway, I didn’t know you like moogles.”

              “Are you kidding? Look at that face! That one’s huge!” I wave to the three-foot-tall plush sitting at the back.

              Riku laughs. “Yeah, moogles don’t actually get that big.”

              “Stop ruining the fun!” My attention finally turns to the game and I become a bit more apprehensive. “Hmm, skee-ball…”

              “You got a bone to pick with skee-ball?”

              “Let’s just say it’s not my best game.” Rifling through my pocket, I pull a handful of munny.

              A silver brow quirks. “So you’re gonna waste your munny?”

              “I want that moogle.” The currency drops into the machine, releasing five skee-balls.

              “You’re the kind of person these games target.”

              I pick up one of the balls, sizing up the game ahead. “Hey, even without a prize on the line, carnival games can be fun.”

              “Just not skee-ball?”

              The first ball rolls down the lane, pops up, and bounces off one of the rings before rolling into the 10-point hole.

              I let out a puff. “…Maybe not for me.”

              Riku chuckles and watches the rest of my miserable attempt.

              There were five holes vertically aligned at the other end of the lane with point values of ten, twenty, thirty, forty, and fifty. For the extravagant moogle I had my heart set on, I needed a near perfect game of two hundred and forty points. Alas, with my skee ball skills, I’d be lucky for the keychain prize at one hundred and eighty points. At least I didn’t bring all my munny with me today.

              The game ends with a pitiful score of one hundred twenty. Two following games don’t turn out any better and I figure it’s time to cut my losses.

              “No moogle for me, kupo,” I sigh.

              “Let me try.”

              Before I can question, Riku nudges me out of the way and drops in a few munny. His first attempt is, expectantly, as bad as any of mine, but his second is much smoother; unfortunately, he still ends up ten points shy of any prize. However, a hard glint sparks in his eyes and I consider the problem I may have created.

              Two keychains later, I decide to intervene.

              “It’s fine, sweetheart.” I tug on his arm before he can start the next game. “Let’s go. Sora and Kairi probably went on all the rides without us already.”

              Riku’s eyes flicker between the me and the game but he shakes off the competitive state he’s worked himself into.

              “Yeah. Sorry.”

              “Don’t be. You got these!” I dangle the keychains. “They’re freakin’ cute and there’s one for each of us, kupo!”

              “Are you going to say that all day?” he asks, but I see that quirk at the corner of his lips.

              Capturing his fingers, I lead the way. “Maybe. It’s fun, kupo. Say it.”

              “No. Not gonna happen.”

              “Oh come on! Please, kupo!”

              “No.”

              “Rikuuu! You’re no fun!”

              I pester him to no avail; he’s clearly amused but he’s not budging on this one. Then it’s Kairi and Sora’s turn to pester us about disappearing—of course I get all the blame.

              Our day continues with rides, attractions, games, and food that’s not at all good for you but tastes so good. We did a few more rides before we got food though, because there was no way I was sitting next to anyone on a ride right after eating. Then we moved on to games and attractions. The glass maze might be my favorite; I laughed so hard I almost couldn’t get off the floor. Sora and Riku both got stuck running into walls and now they both glare when we pass by the maze. Competition galore comes around with the games, though I notice Riku actively avoiding the moogle skee-ball stand. To be fair, we did already play it.

              Once I’m confident there will be no barfing on the rides, it’s time for round two. Riku, however, seems distracted and I’m worried he might be getting sick. Just before we jump in line for another ride, he stops.

              “You okay?” I ask.

              “Yeah, but I’m gonna sit this one out. You guys go ahead.”

              “Are you sure?”

              “Yeah. I’m going to walk around for a bit.” Leaning in, Riku presses a kiss to my forehead. “Don’t wait up for me.”

              “Okay, but don’t be gone too long.”

              “Got it.”

              Riku splits off from us as we get in line for the gravity ride, but as he walks, I can’t help wondering what’s up.

              “Where do you think he’s going?” Sora asks.

              “No idea,” I say.

              We enjoy the ride, but when there’s no Riku when we get off, we find another nearby. A couple rides and another shared funnel cake nearly waste an hour but still, there’s no sign of my boyfriend. The sun’s been long gone and booths are starting to close. Soon after, workers begin ushering people towards the exit.

              Standing outside the carnival, I scan the crowds heading home.

              “Where is he?” I question, looking around.

              “He didn’t go home, did he?” Sora says.

              I cross my arms. “If he ditched us, he’s going to be in serious trouble.”

              Kairi folds her arms thoughtfully. Then her eyes light up and a smile plays on her lips. I try to follow her gaze, but just as I turn around, I run face first into something soft.

              Thrown off guard, I cling to the squishy object, which offers no support whatsoever, but, thankfully, someone else keeps me on my feet.

              Stable in my stance, I lean back, coming face to face with a pink-nosed, pompom-wearing, three-foot-tall, winged moogle.

              “Kupo?” I mutter in confusion.

              “For you.”

              My gaze pulls from the plush to find Riku behind this ambush, clearly over-the-moon proud with himself.

              The grin pulling at my mouth comes more from my understanding of his secrecy rather than the gift itself.

              “So that’s what you’ve been up to this whole time,” Kairi announces.

              His ego falters, marred by the tint bleeding across his nose. “Maybe…”

              “Dude, you’ve been gone almost an hour,” Sora blurts out. “How many tries did it take you?”

              The shade darkens. “Uh well…It’s been a while since I played skee-ball…so…”

              Kairi jams a finger against his shoulder with her own smug simper. “You spent that whole hour playing, didn’t you.”

              Suddenly, there’s a shout from the passing crowd. A little girl holding a small moogle waves her hand. “Thank you, moogle man!”

              Another pair of kids behind that family, also with smaller moogles, also wave.

              A hand against his face attempts to hide the face of defeat, but it’s too late—Kairi and Sora have already put two and two together. Riku had won many games of skee-ball, but didn’t stop until he obtained the extra-large prize.

              My arms tighten around the moogle. “Well, I love him.”

              Riku’s pride makes a small recovery. I love that look in his eyes, the one that says he’d do anything, even play a ridiculous game for an hour to win some silly prize.

              “Which one? Riku or the moogle?” Sora asks.

              I giggle. “Yes.”

              While the brunette tries to figure out my answer, I push the moogle onto him. The moment my arms are clear, I lunge at Riku, even throwing my legs around his waist. Pouncing at Riku isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, so there’s no surprise when he keeps his balance and holds me up.

              “I love you, kupo.” I nuzzle my nose against his, pulling a chuckle from the young man. “Say it.” He glances away. Not about to take that as an answer, I smush my face against his. “Say it! You know you want to! Say it!”

              Riku’s hands release me, forcing my feet to come down before I drop onto the concrete. He peers down at me, face turning redder with each second and smiling like a bashful fool.

              “I love you too, kupo.”

[talesofesther]

Anchor - Part 2

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Masterlist with the other parts

See part one for important notes 

A/N: since so many people liked the first part, I'm posting part two a little earlier ♥. Also, I'm sorry that this chapter is a little bit smaller than the first one, but I wanted it to end where it did. If you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know.

"Jesus, who designed this fucking house?" Y/N muttered to herself.

She has been walking around the mansion for the past ten minutes or so, but it seemed a lot more than that. After their little breakfast reunion Klaus took Y/N to his room where he was insistent he wanted to learn how to knit, she presumed it was to keep his mind busy. She intended to leave the house because honestly, she felt like she was intruding. But if Klaus's begging was anything to go by, she was forced to stay.

And right now Y/N's after a bathroom. Klaus did offer to show her where it was, but she assumed the big house was filled with them so of course, she said "I can handle it".

She couldn't.

And for her luck, after turning what felt like the 100th corner, she bumped into someone.

"Oh god I'm so sorry" after Y/N backed away from the person she just collided with, she looked up to see a not so amused Five looking down at her.

The boy just adjusted his clothes, took a deep breath, and muttered "it's alright".

Ever since Y/N was a little girl, she was observant. She might be quiet sometimes, but she was always aware of the little things going on around her. And when Five clutched his side a little uncomfortably, she didn't fail to notice.

"Are you hurt? Is everything okay?" The girl's voice was timid but somehow demanding. And for the first time, she eyed Five up and down without an ounce of nervousness.

Five looked down at his side and then back up at the girl, he couldn't understand why her eyes showed genuine concern. For a stranger, for him.

"It's nothing. What are you looking for?" His voice was as serious as it was this morning, if not more. His eyes remaining on her.

Y/N let out a huff of air "a bathroom, I think I passed through every room in this house twice but I couldn't find one".

That made a tiny smirk appear on the boy's face, he was so used to this house that he forgot how it could be a literal maze for strangers. "Just go down this hallway, turn left and then enter the first door to your right. You'll get there"

Five was definitely not expecting the bright smile that appeared in Y/N's face when she said "Thank you". It made him gulp and avert his gaze from her eyes. The weird feeling in his stomach was back.

"No problem" he tucked his hands on the pockets of his shorts, his mouth forming a thin line and he only looked at her again when she walked past him to go down the hallway. As he watched her retreating figure he shook his head and told himself to snap out of it. Someone as tainted as him, shouldn't even deserve to be friends with someone like her, let alone...

He stopped his own dangerous thoughts.

_________

It's been a while that Y/N was once again chilling with Klaus in his room, they were both sitting in his comfy bed, sometimes they would talk but it was mostly a comfortable silence. Besides the fact that his room was a bit of a mess, it was actually very cozy, Y/N particularly liked the Christmas lights hanging around his walls. They made her happy.

But a sudden knock made her raise her head towards the door.

"Get up you two, we're going" Five walked in, seemingly agitated. Y/N furrowed her brows.

"Where?" Klaus stopped messing with his wool ball and glanced up at Five as well.

"Save the world"

"Oh is that all? Great" Klaus's comment made Y/N chuckle, she adored this man. Five shot a glance at her and in less than a minute they were already heading out.

But just outside Klaus's room, they ran into a man running inside another one of the rooms. Y/N was about to say something but Five beat her to it.

"Where have you been?"

"Jail, long story. Where's Luther?" The man answered and Y/N made a face that could only be read as 'what the fuck'. Honestly, this family has no limit.

"Haven't seen him since breakfast" Five answered him like this was just another normal day. And just now Y/N noticed he was standing right beside her.

The man finally came out of his room, putting on some kind of vest. "Shit, Allison is in danger". Just then he noticed the girl between Five and Klaus, looking at her with a questioning look.

Y/N noticed. "I'm- I'm Y/N"

"She's my friend, new addition to our little team" Klaus said as a matter of fact.

"Huh, I'm Diego" he didn't seem to mind her all that much, none of them did actually. For the most part, she was glad.

"So you- you know..." Diego asked while he did the last buttons of his vest.

Y/N let a small smirk appear on her face. "Everything, basically. I had a... A very insightful night with Klaus, about the end of the world apparently" she finished for him.

Five gave a side look at the girl. He was still figuring out if he was happy, upset, or sad that she got involved in all of this.

Next thing Y/N knew she was inside a car, apparently going after Luther. They found him in a bar, and just by seeing him sitting there all alone feeling sorry for himself, the girl almost felt sad herself.

Diego insisted on talking with the big guy alone, so the trio walked back and leaned on some tables. While they were walking Y/N couldn't help but notice that Five was limping, a lot. So she leaned a bit closer to him and asked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Five felt her inching closer to him, he could almost feel her body heat on his own skin. It made him shiver, made his heartbeat just a little bit faster, his body was tense and for the first time in years he was afraid his voice would betray him. Why does she worry so much? What is happening to him?

"I already told you I am fine" that came out probably more harsh than he intended to, but he had to stop whatever it was that she was doing with him.

"Okay, I was just worried" she answered, putting more distance between them than there was before.

Five wanted to ask why, but he held himself back.

Not long after, Luther was rushing out of the bar, almost breaking the door in the process.

_________

They were all once again in the car, this time Y/N was in the front seat while Five drove and the other three siblings sat very close to each other in the back. Luther looked like he was too big for everything.

Y/N's gaze was focused on the passing landscape outside of the window almost the entire drive. She was almost sure Five didn't like her, not one bit. Or at the very least he was annoyed by her presence. She was just trying to be nice, and in her defense, she was genuinely concerned about his well-being. The guy was limping, what was she supposed to do? At least ask if he's okay right?

The girl rubbed her eyes and forced a stop to her thoughts, it wasn't worth it. She knew nothing about any of them, and it was probably better to stay that way.

"Can you go any faster?" Luther's voice caught her attention, but she didn't turn her head.

"Ask me again and I'll burn you with the cigarette lighter" this boy was definitely something else.

_________

It wasn't long after they all reached a cabin in the middle of the woods. Luther rushed out of the car just as fast he rushed out of the bar earlier. The other siblings followed shortly after so Y/N went in as well.

The sight inside the cabin squeezed her heart with an unpleasant feeling. There was a woman on the ground, Y/N presumed it was Allison, she seemed to have a deep cut on her neck and the ground already had a pool of her blood.

Luther held the woman close to him, saying things to her with his broken voice. It seemed like his whole world had crumbled. Y/N knew the feeling.

***

Thank you for reading ♥ the next part should be out soon. And if you have any idea about how this story should progress or anything you would like to see in it, please send me an ask or message and I’d be happy to include it. ♥