#study room storage ideas

[shotgunhope]

Boston Traditional Home Office Picture of a study room with a medium-sized elegant built-in desk, a dark wood floor, gray walls, and no fireplace

[racingpit]

Freestanding Home Office in New York Inspiration for a mid-sized victorian freestanding desk light wood floor and brown floor study room remodel with brown walls and no fireplace

[pathologicalreid]

Okay before i say my request can i be your 🐚 anon ??? that's all i ask in terms of that BUT:

hear me out- so spencer reid x bau!fem!sunshine!reader gets kidnapped outside of work and her kidnapper tortures her and the works, but the worst part is he has a live feed directed for the bau so they just have to watch the poor girl get borderline killed but she's still fighting back and so eventually he turns the feed off and they go to the unsub once they find his location but before they burst the door down they hear the reader like genuinely begging for him to just kill her and it's GUT WRENCHING. then they get him and she free and she's immediately back to her bubbly self until randomly she like shows up at his door and spence tells her it's okay to not be okay and she just breaks down RAGHHHH

i'm so sorry for writing you an essay but I got the idea and simply couldn't let it go to waste 😭

-🐚 (i hope if that's okay with you???)

epiphany | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; re: hurt/comfort content warnings: bau!reader, sunshine!reader, kidnapping, violence against reader, reader begging for it to be over, gun violence, general cm violence, exhaustion, hospitals, poor coping mechanisms and unhelpful therapists. word count: 2.92k a/n: of course you can be my 🐚 anon! this is a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany! i hope you enjoy it <3 thank you SO much for requesting!

epiphany - a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

before

The horrified look on Garcia’s face couldn’t possibly be a good sign, “Uh, sir,” she addressed Hotch, “I’m being sent an encrypted link from an admin on the UnSub’s site.”

Responding with a stiff nod, Hotch looked toward the screen in the roundtable room, “Open it.”

Each team member had an instant reaction to the image projected onto the large screen. JJ had covered her mouth with her hands, Morgan had to peel his eyes away from the screen, and Spencer couldn’t get himself to do the same thing. Despite his better judgment, he kept his eyes on the screen.

“He’s killing her,” Emily observed, watching with a horrified expression as the UnSub hand his hands around your throat. You were dangling from the ceiling by your bound hands, leaving you flailing as your body begged for air.

Hotch leaned intensely over Garcia’s shoulder, “Is this live?” He asked, voice raising ever so slightly as he watched the tech analyst’s fingers work nimbly across her keyboard. As she nodded, he continued, “Can you find where he’s streaming this from?”

Parting her lips, a determined look settled on the blonde’s face as she continued to type, “It looks like he’s running it through a boatload of different proxies – it’s gonna take me a minute.”

Rossi shook his head, leaning over the roundtable, “She might not have that long.” It was the truth, a harsh truth, but the truth, nonetheless.

It had been one minute and thirty-seven seconds already, brain death would occur after four minutes, maybe five if you were lucky. Spencer didn’t want to have to take that chance. “Oh god,” Penelope cried, working through the tears that had started to stream down her face, “Okay, she’s in this general area.”

“Keep going,” Hotch ordered succinctly. “Everyone else, look at the picture. Is anything recognizable about the background?”

The lighting was dim at best, which didn’t leave the team with a lot to work with while they studied your surroundings. At one point, your attacker shouted, and Spencer’s attention moved back to you.

In the midst of your struggle, you had managed to strike him between the legs, sending him stumbling away from you, shouting expletives as space was put between the two of you. The BAU took a collective breath as they listened to you breathe, spluttering as the UnSub regained his composure. “Do you see that? The ridges in the wall?” Derek said, using his index finger to point to what he was talking about.

“It looks like a storage container,” Emily replied, furrowing her brows as she comprehended what Morgan was talking about.

Wholly focused on you, Spencer watched as the UnSub got in your face, screaming horrible words at you until you spit in his face. He swung at you, causing your face to turn with a nauseating smack until your head lolled forward and you stopped moving.

Still typing, Penelope spoke up, “Got it! Sending the address to your phones now.”

during

There was a maze of storage containers at the port, and so far, you had turned up in none of them. “Shh, wait,” Emily hissed, “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, looking over each of her shoulders, ears perked up like a bloodhound.

Straining his ears, Spencer straightened up, lowering his firearm as he focused on listening to the world around him, waiting for whatever Emily was talking about.

“Just fucking do it!” Your voice reverberated off of the surface of the numerous shipping containers. Spencer found himself torn as he knew you were alive but recognized the fear and anger in your voice. The pain as you screamed nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he found himself trudging forward.

Following closely behind Morgan, they stopped for a moment, trying to determine which direction you would be found in. Your shouts rang out into the pitch black of the night, “Stop being a coward and pull the fucking trigger!”

His steps faltered, leaving JJ stumbling into his back. “Reid,” she whispered, prompting him to shake himself out of his surprised state and continue moving. You didn’t know what you were saying, he tried to convince himself.

You couldn’t see the camera the same way he had seen it so many years ago, kidnapped and drugged against his will and hoping the team would understand the clues disguised as conversation. He had been taken from an UnSub’s property, and your apartment had been broken into – the only thing taken had been you.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar fear in the BAU, worrying about an UnSub breaking into your home, but you weren’t targeted because of your work in the bureau. You had been targeted because you fit the victim pattern.

If he never had to see the word “missing” under your face again, it would be too soon.

“Please,” you begged. “Please just kill me. Just let me die. I don’t want to do it anymore,” your voice started to grow quieter, but the team could still hear you – they were getting closer.

Emily and Morgan went to one side of the doors, leaving Spencer and JJ on the other side – Rossi and Hotch were elsewhere on the property, waiting with first responders and calling the shots via comms.

A small whimper came from the container at the same time as the click of a gun cocking. “Just pull it,” you pleaded weakly. “It’ll be so easy for you. It’ll be so much easier with me dead,” you informed him despondently.

“FBI!” Morgan called out, pulling the heavy metal doors of the container open, revealing the four FBI agents with their vests on, guns raised.

Just like it had happened in an action film, Spencer watched as the UnSub moved his hand to the trigger of his weapon. Your eyes were closed, tears streaming through the dirt that was caked on your face. Without a second thought, Spencer pulled the trigger on his firearm, sending a bullet through the UnSub’s temple before he could have the chance to kill you.

Emily went over to the body, gingerly picking up the weapon and disengaging it while looking over to you. Spencer was knelt in front of you, debating whether or not he should touch you before he decided on speaking to you first, “Y/N?” His voice was no more than a whisper as he expected your eyes to open, but they didn’t.

“His pocket,” you rasped, your traumatized vocal cords straining on every word.

Spencer hummed, “What about them, love?” He kept his voice gentle, watching you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Sniffling, you hung your head low, “Keys,” you mumbled helplessly, unable to speak more than you already were, each word only drained you of energy you didn’t have in the first place.

Understanding, JJ crouched next to the stiff body of the UnSub and fished a keyring out of his pants pocket, handing them to Spencer.

With shaky hands, the third key unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, and your body slumped forward, practically falling into Spencer as he tenderly wrapped his arms around your torso, “I’ve got you,” he reassured you.

It wasn’t until you were sat in the back of an ambulance that anyone got a good look at you. There was a fine layer of grime coating your skin, causing it to look at least one shade darker than it normally was, but what concerned Spencer the most was the petechiae of your eyes. The burst blood vessels were a direct result of his hands around your throat.

The paramedics looked over you despite your protests. It was non-negotiable, and that instruction came from Hotch. The strangest part of it was that you were continuously trying to wave off concern, insisting you were fine, kicking your legs off the edge of the rig while the female paramedic looked at the bruising on your cheek. “It might be a fractured ZMA, she’ll need a CT to confirm,” she continued to list even more ailments, including potential internal bleeding and extensive damage to your throat. The swelling in your neck was beginning to catch up with you, affecting your ability to talk.

Spencer rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand while you told him, “I knew you’d find me. I never gave up.”

I don’t want to do it anymore, your pleas for the UnSub to end your life rang in his head, he’d never forget hearing you say that, and you didn’t even know he heard you.

He didn’t have any good answers for anyone while you were getting a CT. By the time you returned from surgery to repair your fractured cheekbone, he shut the door to your room, sequestering the two of you into your own little world.

The bruising around your neck had already begun to darken, and by this time tomorrow, your throat would likely be a sickening reflection of what had happened to you. Your doctor had elected to leave you intubated because they were afraid of the swelling affecting your ability to breathe.

There was nothing for him to do, nothing except sit at your bedside and hold your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb across your bloodied knuckles.

after

You were skipping - well, maybe the step pattern wasn’t technically a skip.

Spencer watched as you waltzed into the bullpen with far too much pep in your step. “I didn’t know you were coming back today,” Morgan said, being the first to greet you once you passed through the glass doors.

Waving a hand in the air, you shrugged, “I have to pass a final psych eval with Hotch, but then I’m all set to be back next week.” You were grinning as you embraced your friend, but over your shoulder, Derek sent Spencer an inquiring look. Asking a silent question that Spencer himself didn’t even know the answer to.

What was going on with you? Four weeks ago, you had been struggling to stand after being beaten within an inch of your life, and ever since, you had been nothing but smiles.

Before you could settle into the hug, you pulled away, placing your hands on Derek’s shoulders, and holding him at arm’s length. Approximately the same distance you had kept Spencer at for the past month.

As you passed behind Spencer’s desk, you left a featherlight touch on the top of his head before continuing your way up to Hotch’s office, smiling as you passed the roundtable room. The same room where the team had watched your torture as it was live-streamed to them.

“Is she..?” Emily started to ask the question on everyone’s minds, but the major issue was that no one quite knew what the question was. Had you finally cracked? Were you okay? He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to eat at him.

The only thing they could do was watch as you greeted Hotch with a chirp, entering his office and firmly closing the door behind you.

epiphany

The knock on his door was the first thing to pull his attention away from his book since he got home from Quantico. Looking down at the inside of his wrist, he frowned at the time – just past midnight.

Still, he peeled himself up off of the couch before making his way to the front door, peering out of the peephole just to see you on the other side.

Slowly, Spencer set the book on his entryway table and undid the lock and deadbolt to his apartment, swinging the heavy wooden door open to reveal his girlfriend. You were donning flannel pajama pants, not unlike the ones he had on, and an old college t-shirt. There was a crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but he couldn’t make out any of the words on it.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, the question slipping easily off his tongue. He didn’t wait for the answer, ushering you inside his apartment and toward the couch. He redid the locks on the front door before joining you on the supple leather.

You furrowed your brows, staring at the piece of paper in your lap, “I failed.”

Leaning over your shoulder curiously, Spencer looked at the piece of paper, quickly recognizing it as your psychological evaluation. He read over what he could see, noting the words “deflection” and “coping mechanism.”

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observed aloud. You must’ve been wearing makeup this morning when you came to the BAU because now he could see the clearly defined dark circles under your eyes. He hadn’t seen you much over the past month, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Spencer had spent many days sitting outside of your apartment, waiting for you to let him in. He didn’t dare use his spare key, it felt like an invasion of your privacy.

Turning to meet his eyes, you shrugged helplessly, “I haven’t been tired. I mean – I’m… I’m fine.”

Nodding gently, “That’s a deflection. You’re telling me that you’re fine when I can clearly see that you aren’t.”

Your lips parted in apprehension while he read you like an open book. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted, tearing little pieces off of your evaluation form as you grew anxious. “I get into bed, and I can’t sleep, I can’t convince myself to close my eyes,” you elaborated, watching as Spencer reached out and took the paper from you, setting it on the coffee table.

“Have you talked to anyone?” Spencer asked, tentatively taking your hand in his.

Humming, you leaned back on the couch cushions, “Like my mandated FBI therapist? No, I don’t really talk to him much. I’ve started pretending we’re having a staring contest. I usually win, but that’s probably because he has no idea that we’re playing.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer inclined his head toward you, “You’re doing it again.”

You clamped your lips shut, shifting on the couch so that you could withdraw your hand from his and sit on your hands. “I don’t do this very well, huh? Talking about the bad stuff,” you murmured to Spencer, looking over at him. “I hate the bad stuff,” you informed him.

“But we have to talk about it eventually, sweetheart. You can’t keep all of that inside,” he told you, moving over on the couch, closer to where you were seated.

Shaking your head, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and Spencer recognized that you were trying to make yourself seem as small as possible. The UnSub had made you feel small – another reason that Spencer had to hate him. “I wish I was her again,” you whispered, a tinge of fear entering your voice.

“You want to be who again?”

Looking over at Spencer, you sighed, “The me that I was before. I want to feel good and happy and perfect and free,” you spoke earnestly.  

He gave you an understanding smile, pulling at your hands so that he could hold them in his own, “Nobody expects you to be perfect right now.”

You closed your eyes, “but I want to be her again.” Small tears started to stream down your cheeks while you mourned the previous version of yourself.

“I know,” Spencer reassured you. “I know you do, but if you can’t quite get to her, I’ll still be here for the you that you are now,” he said, welcoming you with open arms as you began to lean into him. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he murmured into your hair.

Humming, you grew content in Spencer’s arms, the only place he had wanted you over the past month. “What wouldn’t have been easier?”

Ever so slightly, Spencer tightened his grip around you, “If you had died. It wouldn’t have been easier for anyone. I know it felt like that at the time-“

“You heard that?” You asked, horrified at the thought of Spencer and everyone else hearing what you had thought were your last words.

Nodding, Spencer hummed a confirmation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just needed to tell you that I understand. I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you said, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to regret it. You needed a way out, and that was the one you saw,” he told you.

You were silent for an eerie amount of time, without being able to see your face, Spencer was afraid that he had misread the entire situation. “Thank you,” you whispered, straightening up and looking over at him, bleary eyes meeting his. “I’m just… thank you,” you whispered reaching out for him, embracing him as your tears sept through the fabric of his t-shirt.

The both of you stayed like that for a while, your body was tucked into his side as his fingers lazily trailed up and down your back. “Did you want to try to get some sleep?”

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest, “Can I stay here?”

Frowning, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Yes, isn’t that what I just asked?” Maybe it was more of an implication, but he felt it was fairly straightforward.

“I mean, can I stay here for a while? Maybe for a couple of days?” You asked, pressing your lips together nervously.

Moving his head forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”

[visionify]

Traditional Home Office

[mindyharington]

Chicago Home Office

[worstreligiousfanart]

Vancouver Home Office

[imfromsixam]

The Furniture Showroom (CC Pack for The Sims 4)

Over the last few months I have seen some pieces of furniture that I wanted to make but that didn't fit well in any of my previews cc pack ideas. I saved them for a while and I finally found a very cool idea where they all can live together: A Furniture Showroom.

And of course, I always have wanted to recreate the ICONIC Heart-shaped Bed and Hot Tub from The Sims 1 and well, since this is the cc pack of February, I thought it would be appropriate for Valentine's Day.

Along the kinky bedroom and the motel style patio, I created 4 more mini collections that you can use to decorate your Sims houses: a bathroom, a sunroom space, an eclectic reading area and a mini study room.

WooHoo Collection, the bed is inspired in the real life Heart-shaped Bed from the "Pass the Spark" MV featuring Anitta. 

Niagara collection. Inspired by the ICONIC Niagara Love Tub from The Sims: Hot Date.

Eccentric and Bogat collection.

Guan and Puzzlion collection.

▶ ABOUT THE CC PACK

38 items all base game compatible.

Confort: 3 Chairs, Sofa chair, Heart-shaped Bed.

Build: 1 Wallpaper, 3 Carpet Floors.

Decorative: 2 Plants, Painting, Circle Wall Sculpture, Ceiling fan (3 Sizes), Mirror.

Lighting: Desk Lamp, Heart Night Table Lamp, Ceiling Lamp (3 Sizes), 3 Neon Lights.

Plumbing: Sink, Bath Tub, Heart-shaped Hot Tub (base game and functional).

Storage: Empty Bookcase (functional).

Surface: 2 Dining Table, 3 Coffee Tables, Mini Stand Table.

▶ SPECIAL MENTIONS

SimmErika, thank you so much for helping me with the Sims poses :)

Harrie for enlightening me on an issue with the neon lights.

Please let me know what you think!

▶️GET EARLY ACCESS HERE

[risuola]

▶ BRUTALLY HONEST — when Satoru asked you for a rather unusual favor.

contents: silly Satoru, college+roommates!au, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — wc. 934

a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Question!”

The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.

“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.

“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”

“Hit me.” You were ready for–

“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”

You blinked.

Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.

“Can you repeat the question?”

“Dicks. Penises, cocks–“

“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”

“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”

“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.

“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”

You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.

“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”

“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”

“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”

“What do you mean by unimpressive?”

“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”

“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”

“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”

“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”

“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”

“Christ, okay.”

You agreed.

You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.

The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.

“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”

“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”

“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.

“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th

[tqmies]

In Disguise

Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?

Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader

Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!

Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise

Word count. 13K (oh...)

Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!

"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.

"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.

Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.

The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.

"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."

"Then where would you put your stuff?"

And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.

Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.

Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!

"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.

"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.

"Oh I made it just in time then."

Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"

And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."

The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"

Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."

"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.

It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.

So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.

Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.

"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.

"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.

After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.

"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.

"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.

Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."

"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.

Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.

Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.

It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.

During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.

That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"

"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.

You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.

You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.

Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.

They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.

They were such nerds.

You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.

"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.

Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."

"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.

"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"

"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.

"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.

"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.

"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.

"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.

"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.

You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"

"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.

This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."

"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.

You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"

You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"

You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.

"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."

"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.

You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."

"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.

You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."

And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.

Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in

You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.

Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.

You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.

You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.

You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.

Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.

"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.

Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"

"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.

You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"

You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.

"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.

"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"

And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.

God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.

What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!

Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.

After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?

"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.

"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.

You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"

"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.

"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"

"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.

"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?

"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.

"On a Sunday?"

"Computers work on Sunday's too."

God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."

Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.

Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.

..

Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.

So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.

Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?

Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.

Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.

Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.

Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.

And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?

You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?

That Kim Doyoung was making porn?

Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.

There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.

You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.

You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.

You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.

You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.

You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."

You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.

"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."

"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.

"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.

"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.

If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.

"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."

"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."

"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.

"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were. 

His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.

"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.

"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"

You nod, curious. "You know him?"

"Not really, just know he's a jock."

You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."

Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."

..

"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.

"Exactly."

Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"

"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.

"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."

"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."

"Hey!"

"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.

"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.

"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.

"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.

You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."

"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.

Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."

"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."

"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.

You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.

"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.

"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."

"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.

You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."

Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."

"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.

"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"

"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."

"Worth a shot."

"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."

"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."

"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."

You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"

"Nope. Now."

You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"

"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.

"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.

Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."

"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."

"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.

Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.

You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.

You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"

You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."

Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."

You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"

Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."

Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?

"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?

You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"

Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.

You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?

"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.

Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."

You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."

"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."

He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."

Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"

"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."

Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"

"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"

"You what?" Doyoung perks up.

"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."

Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.

Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."

And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."

"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.

"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.

Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"

"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."

"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."

"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."

..

Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.

But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.

It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.

"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.

"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.

They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.

Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"

"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.

"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"

"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"

"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.

You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"

"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"

"I'm not a pervert!"

"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.

Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."

You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?

You admit. "I'm all ears."

"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.

"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.

"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."

Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."

"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"

Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"

"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.

So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?

Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.

You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.

Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.

Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!

You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.

It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.

Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.

While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.

You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.

Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.

There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."

Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"

You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.

A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.

Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"

But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.

Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."

You giggle. "I see that."

"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.

"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.

"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."

Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"

You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"

"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.

Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."

"Why not?"

"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?

Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.

"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.

"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."

"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.

Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"

You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"

"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."

His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.

"I wouldn't want to bother-"

"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"

You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"

"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.

But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?

"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.

"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.

You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"

"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."

"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.

“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”

You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”

“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.

You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."

And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?

Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.

That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.

Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?

Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.

The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."

"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."

You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"

He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."

You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?

You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!

You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"

Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."

You furrow your brows. "Alright.."

It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."

And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."

You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."

Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."

You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."

He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"

"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.

He meets your eyes. "Please?"

“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.

Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?” 

It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.” 

Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?” 

You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."

You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.

And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-” 

You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.

He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?

He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.

You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.

He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."

You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"

He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."

He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."

The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.

Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."

And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."

"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.

You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"

The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.

"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.

You swallow hard. "We were just-"

"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.

Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"

Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."

"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.

"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.

"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.

You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."

"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.

Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"

The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?

You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"

Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."

Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.

Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"

Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"

"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.

Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."

Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."

Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."

"A tease?"

"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.

You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."

"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"

Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."

You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"

You turn back to the other two. "I want to."

Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"

Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"

"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.

Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."

You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.

Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.” 

“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.

“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.” 

“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you. 

“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust. 

You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!” 

“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.” 

You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core. 

Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.” 

Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.” 

You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.” 

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?” 

You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.

Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.

You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"

You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.

He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.

Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"

You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"

"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"

You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.

Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.

"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."

He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.

You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.

You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"

He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.

Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.

Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.

But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"

Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"

Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.

"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"

Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."

Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.

He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.

"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.

"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.

"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."

He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?

Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."

You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.

You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.

The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.

You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.

Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.

He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.

Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.

He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.

"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"

You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.

He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."

You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.

"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."

You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.

Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.

You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"

He nods, "Are -shit- you?"

You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.

You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.

You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.

With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.

He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.

Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.

Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."

"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."

Who knew he could be so mean?

"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.

He smirks. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."

He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."

You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"

The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.

"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.

"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"

The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.

"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.

You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.

Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.

You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.

His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.

“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe. 

Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”

“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.

You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”

He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.” 

Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.

Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.

Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."

Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.

Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"

You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"

He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."

"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.

"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.

He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.

You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.

You shout out, "I'm cumming!"

His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.

"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.

"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."

"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.

"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.

He blinks, "Yeah?"

You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.

Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."

Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"

Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."

"You're hard again, aren't you?"

The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."

He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."

You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.

Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?” 

“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though. 

“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,

You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."

However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again. 

He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake. 

“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss. 

Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.” 

His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?” 

“Unless you don’t to-” 

“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.

You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?

Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.

You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?

He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.

Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.

But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.

"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.

"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.

"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.

"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."

He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"

You smile, "Yes, really."

"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"

You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."

He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."

"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.

You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.

Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.

Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!

You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.

Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.

Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.

People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.

Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.

Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."

You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."

"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."

"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.

"That's not what I-"

"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."

"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.

He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."

"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."

Doyoung snorts, "Gross."

"Not like that, you pervert!"

"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.

"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."

"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"

You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."

The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Not telling her."

Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."

Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."

"It's all good, It's not that bad."

"You like listening don't you-"

"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."

[krirebr]

More Than This 6

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, the threat of Linda, explicit language, panic & anxiety, my own rampant abuse of italics, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well. Here we go. Things are coming to a head now.

Permanent thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who lets me talk her ear off about this and always has the best input.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You sat on the closed toilet seat in Ransom’s ensuite, your knees pulled up to your chest, as you watched the seconds on the timer tick by, Linda’s gift bag sitting right beside the under-the-sink cabinet you’d pulled it out of. This time would be different, you told yourself. It wouldn’t be the same result as the last three tests you took. It couldn’t. It couldn’t. 

Your phone buzzed and you turned the timer off as you closed your eyes tight. Please please please, you chanted to yourself. After forcing yourself to breathe, you opened your eyes and picked up the test off the counter. Pregnant said the easy-read display. Just like the others. Shit.

This was what you wanted. You knew that. But– But you were stupid. You were so fucking stupid. You were so focused on getting pregnant that you’d forced yourself to forget about what would come when you actually were – a baby. You and Ransom were going to have a baby. You were fully trapped now. Completely fucked. This had cemented the rest of your life, no way out.

And the same for this poor baby you carried inside of you. A childhood just like yours. The same future too. You cradled your stomach even knowing there was barely anything there yet. 

You wandered into the hall. You wondered where you would even put a baby as you looked across at the home gym you'd never seen Ransom use. His study. The storage rooms. You tried to imagine a little kid running around in this house. You couldn’t. You couldn’t picture a single moment of your future beyond this day. It terrified you.

The rest of the day passed in a haze before Ransom came home at his usual time. You froze at the sight of him, just staring as he bent down to pat Lola and tell her hello as she yipped excitedly at him. He turned to you and his brow furrowed. Oh god. Could he tell? Could he see it on you? You opened your mouth to tell him. You had to tell him. But no words came out. After gaping at him for who knows how long, while his brow just got more and more furrowed, you asked “Are you hungry?” and moved into the kitchen without waiting for a response. You had no idea how he’d react. 

Would he be happy you’d finally fulfilled your purpose? Angry because he’d never wanted a kid to begin with? Or maybe he did want a kid, he just didn’t want one with you? Maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe you didn’t even factor into this equation. Maybe the kid would be good enough on it’s own. That might be the best outcome you could hope for. That thought terrified you just as much as the others.

You pulled two of the premade meals out of the fridge. You hadn’t tried to make dinner again since your disastrous first attempt. You thought of your kid. Eating the housekeeper’s meals, being taken care of by a nanny, driven around by a chauffeur, while you just faded away into the background.

Ransom calling your name brought you back to the present. He was just on the other side of the kitchen island from you now. “Are you okay?” he asked, and you couldn’t tell if it was concern or annoyance in his tone.

Tell him tell him tell him. You had to. You knew you had to. But. You couldn’t right now. It wasn’t the right time. You’d come up with a plan. The right way to do it. That’s what you needed. You forced a benign smile. “I’m fine,” you said. 

Something passed over his features. Frustration, maybe. But what did he have to be frustrated by? You were doing what he wanted. Making yourself as small as possible, doing everything you could not to intrude on his life. 

He just stared at you as you plated a meal for him and put it in the microwave. He looked at you as if there was something to decode. The more he stared, the more afraid you became that he’d be able to ferret out your secret. Not yet. Please not yet. It wasn’t the right time. “Actually,” you said, as you took his dinner out of the microwave and replaced it with your own, “I’m not feeling great. I think I’m just going to take this upstairs with me and maybe read until I fall asleep. Don’t bother waking me if I’m sleeping when you come up. Think I just need to sleep off whatever this is.” You were babbling. You knew it. You needed to get out of this room.

“Are you ok?” He asked. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no,” You said, taking your plate out as soon as the microwave beeped, not bothering to check if it was truly done. “I’m fine. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix, I’m sure. Goodnight.” Then you fled upstairs, not looking back.

You spent the next day trying to pretend like everything was normal. You read one of Harlan’s books, you took Lola for a long walk, you hid from Carol. Everything was fine.

Late in the afternoon, you got a text from Ransom.

How are you feeling?

You stared at it, confused. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. You hadn’t told him. What was– Oh! Last night you’d told him you were sick. Right.

I’m feeling much better. Thank you.

A few minutes later your phone dinged again.  

Ok. My parents want to take us to dinner. I’ll be home around 6 and we’ll go right to the restaurant.

You looked at the time. That was less than two hours from now. Less than two hours to get ready for Linda. That– that was not enough time. You tried to push down the panic building in your chest. This was fine. You’d just start getting ready now. It was fine.

  You went into Ransom’s bathroom and started doing your makeup. It was fine. Your hand only shook a little. 

When that was done, you went into the closet. All you had to do was pick an outfit. You could do that.

But as you rifled through the closet, the panic you’d tried so hard to shove deep down came back. Not only that, it grew. You didn’t know how you were supposed to pick something to wear when you didn’t know what Linda wanted. But if you didn’t get it right, she would look at you and she would say something. And she would hate you even more. But every time you thought you might have found something that would please her, you became overcome with worry over what Richard might think – if it showed too much chest, or too much leg, or too much neck or maybe it highlighted your ass and he would take it as an invitation. It was too much. You sank down to the floor, surrounded by all the clothes you’d pulled off hangers. You were paralyzed. There was no option that wouldn’t get you in trouble, wouldn’t cause problems.

You didn’t even realize Ransom was home until he was in the closet too, standing over you, with an impatient scowl on his face. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why aren’t you ready? We have to go! Linda’s gonna lose her shit if we’re late for the reservation. Get up and get fucking dressed already.”

You looked up at him, at the way he was glaring at you, and suddenly you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. None of it. Not a single thing. 

“Then tell me what to wear!” you yelled, and Ransom took a step back, surprised. “Because none of this is going to be good enough! Not for your mom, who hates me. Or your dad who looks at me, and– and– And you! I have no fucking idea what you want. I can’t figure it out! But I’m here. I have to be here. And I have to do what you want, but I don’t know what that is because you won’t tell me! I only know what you don’t want. You don’t want me to cook and you don’t want to fuck me and you don’t want me to work! And I really don’t understand that one because you told me I could but then you sicced your mother on me–”

“Wait, what?” Ransome tried to interrupt. “What did–”

You barely even noticed he’d said anything, too much on a roll now to even think about stopping. “And you don’t want me to leave! You keep me locked up here, stranded and I think I’m starting to lose my mind. I don’t– I don’t have anything to do or anyone to talk to! Steve is too busy for me and that’s probably good because your mom is sure we’re fucking, so I probably shouldn’t talk to him anymore anyway. But I miss him. He’s the only one who cares about me. I’m so alone. And even Lola loves you now. I don’t have anyone or anything! And I know, I know I’m supposed to make you happy. I know that’s what I’m for now, but I don’t know how! You don’t want me. You don’t want me here but you won’t let me leave. And now I’m pregnant! And I’m stuck. This is just my life now, the way it’ll always be and I–” 

A hand on your wrist shocked you back into the room, into the present, where Ransom was crouching down in front of you, eyes wide. “You’re pregnant?” he breathed. 

You froze. Oh god, had you said that? You didn’t really remember. You barely remembered anything you’d just said. It’d all come tumbling out of you without much conscious thought. But as he stared at you, you knew that you must have. You locked eyes with him for what might have been just a moment or an entire age. And then suddenly, this, fucking everything, was too much for you and you bolted.

Up and out of the closet, out of the bedroom, and into the hall. You looked around wildly. You didn’t have anywhere to go. You heard Ransom start to move, so you ducked through the nearest doorway, into his gym, slamming the door and locking it behind you. You paced around the room, wringing your hands. What the fuck had you done? Why had you said all that? You were just so tired. You’d been so tired since that day in Joseph’s office. You just couldn’t muster the energy to keep everything inside anymore.

A knock came at the door and you froze. Ransom called your name gently, but you couldn’t say anything. He called it again, a little louder, but you still kept quiet. The doorknob rattled as he tried to get in. You backed up, still feeling the urge to run but there was nowhere to go. Your back hit the far wall and you slid down it.

“I just–” he started through the door, “you don’t have to talk to me. I just– I just need to know that you’re ok.” It was his tone that surprised you more than his words. He sounded– you weren’t sure how he sounded, honestly. Wrecked, maybe, if that wasn’t so fucking ridiculous. “Can you at least tell me you aren’t having a panic attack? I’m–” You swore you could hear him grinding his teeth. “I’m worried.”

You gaped at the door for a moment, then forced out, “I’m not having a panic attack,” just loud enough to travel through the wood. 

“You’re sure? Your breathing’s normal?”

“Yeah,” you said, hunched over by the wall now.

You heard him let out a deep breath. “Ok, good, that’s good. Uh, will you please come out? I’d really like to talk to you.”

You were shaking your head before he finished speaking, your stomach clenching in fear. You couldn’t face him. Not yet. Not ever, a voice inside you whispered. That wouldn’t be possible, you knew. But you’d hold off as long as you possibly could. “No,” you finally said out loud, your voice unsteady. 

There was just silence at first. It stretched on. Then, finally, you heard him move away from the door and down the stairs. You took a slow, deep breath. Then another and another. You stood up and started moving again. Around and around the room. You were so relieved he was gone but you were terrified of where he might be going, what he might be doing. How he might feel. How angry was he? And was he just upset about the outburst or was he mad about the baby? He’d never been an enthusiastic participant in the making of it, just doing what he had to. This baby wasn’t his choice, it’d been pushed on him, just like you were pushed on him. Of course he resented you. And he’d resent your child, your family. A whole life he never wanted. 

You cradled your stomach as you crumpled down to the floor. This poor baby. Parents who barely spoke, a mother who was only ever sad. Tears slid down your cheeks. History just kept repeating. Over and over again. There’d never been anything you could do to stop it. 

Your pathetic spiral was interrupted by a scratching at the door. Then a huff and then whimpers. Lola. You started to get up, move towards the door, but then you stopped. Opening that door felt insurmountable. Like it would destroy any small modicum of safety you currently felt. Like everything outside, everything you were scared of would come crashing in. You couldn’t do it. Even for Lola, you couldn’t do it.

You heard footsteps on the stairs again and you pushed yourself into the wall. You heard him stop in front of the door and then say, so softly you could barely hear it, “Hey, Lola, she just needs some time alone right now. It’ll be okay. Come on, let’s go downstairs.” Then there was more movement – was he picking her up? – and footsteps on the stairs again.

You couldn’t explain why that made you so angry, but– He hated dogs! He’d told you! And now he was comforting Lola? Gently picking her up? Taking her from you? He didn’t make any sense. He’d constantly say one thing then do the opposite. The only consistent thing about him seemed to be that he didn’t want you, didn’t like you, didn’t need you here. Maybe once the baby was born, he’d send you both away. Maybe that’d be a good thing. Maybe that was the best you could hope for.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before there was a soft knock on the door. Ransom’s voice came through. “Can you let Lola in? She’s freaking out. You can stay in there, I just– She needs you.”

You moved towards the door. “I– She can come in, but I don’t want to talk,” you said. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, “you’ve made that clear.”

Then there was more shuffling before you heard him walk away. You just stood there until there was a desperate little scratch at the bottom of the door. You unlocked and opened it quickly, just enough to let her in, then closed and locked it behind her. She immediately jumped on you, torn between her excitement at seeing you and her annoyance that she’d been shut out to begin with.

You picked her up. “I’m so sorry baby,” you whispered. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You didn’t know if that was true. You held her close as you went back to pacing. What were you doing? You were being childish, probably. Hiding from your problems. It wouldn’t be so bad, maybe, if you weren’t so fucking alone. You got out your phone and without thinking texted Steve

I really hate that you’re so far away.

You stared at it for a few moments but the little checkmark that showed he’d read it never appeared. That was fine. Working still probably. Or at an important dinner or event. He had his own life to lead. You couldn’t expect him to always have time for you.

Another knock on the door. You looked up with a sharp “What?” Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“Are you planning on coming to bed tonight?” he asked through the door.

“No,” you said, voice much more firm than you felt.

“What?! You’re just gonna sleep on the floor between my weights?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

“Oh my god,” he grumbled. “You can’t sleep on the floor!”

“I’m fine, Ransom,” you growled.

“Fucking ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for you to still hear him, before he stomped down the stairs. 

You rolled your eyes and checked your phone. Still no response from Steve. It was fine it was fine. 

He came back up, his gait significantly slower and uneven, and dropped something in front of the door, which hit the floor with a muted ‘oomph.’ Then he was stomping down the stairs again. You froze, staring at the door, your curiosity warring with your fear. What the fuck was he doing?

He came back up, adding something to his pile with a faint ‘tink.’ “You can’t fucking sleep on the floor,” he growled, then thundered into his room across the hall and slammed the door.

You counted to thirty before you were brave enough to open the door. Stacked just to the side in the hallway was a collection of cushions and blankets, along with your pillow and Lola’s favorite blanket. Carefully placed on top of all that was one of Carol’s dinners with utensils and a bottle of water. You just blinked at it all for a moment, before lugging everything into the room. 

You sat down to eat first. You’d been so stressed and anxious you hadn’t even realized you skipped dinne– Oh fucking shit. Dinner. With Ransom’s parents. Well, if Linda hadn’t hated you already, she certainly did now. You wondered what he’d told her. That you were crazy. Ridiculous. A child. Had he told her you were pregnant? If you’d been able to tell her yourself, under better circumstances, would it make her like you more? 

You put the plate aside. You weren’t very hungry.

Next was making space for you to sleep. It took you a while. Neither the stationary bike nor the treadmill would budge. You didn’t even try the rowing machine. So it was just moving his weights out of the way, which you did one by one with both hands, trying to shoo Lola out of the way when she insisted on being underfoot. When you were done, you sat down against the wall for a moment, trying to catch your breath, before arranging all the cushions and blankets into something you’d be able to sleep on.

You looked around. He never fucking used this gym. You were sure it’d be covered in dust if Carol didn’t clean it every week. He had all these rooms you’d never seen him enter, let alone use, while you had absolutely nothing. Well. Fuck that. Fuck him.

You pulled out your phone and hurriedly typed out an email to the manager of your storage unit. Your bedroom furniture was just languishing in LA, while all these rooms went unused. Well, you were done with that. You’d done your job. Your goals were accomplished. You were pregnant. There was no reason to share a room with him anymore. He’d be relieved too, you were sure of it.

As you unfolded all the blankets, you also found your comfiest pair of pajamas. You changed into them, knowing it was just a coincidence, that they must have been the first pair he’d found in your drawer, but you still appreciated it. As odd as it felt to appreciate anything from him, especially now. 

You sank down onto the cushions. It was early still, but you were exhausted. You hoped that you might sleep, even though you were terrified of what the next day might bring.

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[moraxine]

Inevitable [Gojo Satoru]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

words: 1.3k

summary: you and satoru fall for the oldest trick in the book.

It’s a typical morning at Jujutsu High, the sun casting its warm hues across the campus as students roam the premises, training or studying. Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji are together, heads pressed close as they discuss their latest idea—Operation: Set Up Gojo and y/n.

"You guys know they totally like each other, right?" Nobara says, arms crossed. "I mean, come on, it's obvious. They keep sneaking glances at each other, the tension is unreal."

Megumi raises an eyebrow. "If it's so obvious, why haven’t they done anything about it?"

"Because they're both hopeless," Yuji chimes in with a grin. "Especially y/n-sensei. She's so shy when it comes to Gojo-sensei."

Nobara leans forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Exactly. And that’s where we come in. We need to give them a little... push. Maybe force them to confront their feelings, you know?”

Megumi sighs, accepting the fact that he has to take part in his friends’ stupidly mischievous schemes once again. “What are you thinking?

"Simple," she replies, cracking her knuckles. "We lock them up somewhere and just let the magic happen."

Later on the same day, you’ve just finished grading papers, ready to leave your office, when you receive a text from Yuji.

Hey, y/n sensei! Could you meet me in the old storage room near the gym? I really need your help with something super important!

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Other than the fact that this text is free of spelling mistakes, the request itself is quite strange. However, since your relationship with your students has been nothing but great, you put trust in them—as much as an adult can, anyway—and Yuji is no exception.

Thus, you grab your coat and make your way to the storage room. Truth be told, it’s rarely used and a bit dusty, which raises a lot of questions in your head as to why Yuji would need you there, but then you remember that it’s also tucked away enough for privacy. As you approach, you notice the door slightly ajar.

"Yuji?" you call out as you step inside.

No longer than ten seconds after you’re in, the door slams shut behind you, making you jump in terror. You whirl around, heart racing. Your hand reaches for the handle but the desperate attempt is futile.

What the actual fu-

“Oh, it’s just you.”

A helpless scream leaves your throat as you turn all the other way around and find yourself staring at the one and only Satoru Gojo, the man who’s been occupying way too much space in your thoughts lately.

Gojo seems composed when he offers you his signature smirk, leaning casually against the wall, his blindfold pulled up so his mesmerising blue eyes are visible. "I was expecting a student ambush or something."

"Yeah, well... same here, kinda,” you mutter, as you try to control your breathing. After a few moments, reality hits and your cheeks heat up as you realise you’re completely alone with him in a—not so very comfortable—space. "Did they trick you into coming here too?"

He nods. "I got a text from Megumi saying something about needing immediate help. Guess we're both suckers."

You cross your arms and sigh, slightly relieved that at least you aren’t a victim of some really serious prank. You glance at the door one last time. "Well, it's locked now, so I guess we're stuck."

There is an awkward silence for a few moments. The tension between you two has always been evident, but neither of you ever made a move to address it. You often find yourself stammering around Gojo, unable to handle the teasing words or the way his eyes linger on you a little too long sometimes.

Gojo, on the other hand, despite his confident front, is surprisingly shy when it comes to you. Sure, he makes his usual sarcastic comments and tries to act like all is fine, but deep down, he’s always been afraid of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you.

"So,” you start, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly, “you think this is some kind of setup?"

He chuckles, walking closer to you. "Oh, absolutely. Our adorable students are trying to play matchmaker. I should’ve known when I saw Yuji smiling like a fool earlier."

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore how close he’s standing now. "Well, it's not going to work. We’re professionals."

"Sure, because professionals definitely get trapped in storage rooms," Gojo quips, flashing you a grin. "Besides, I think they just wanted to speed up the inevitable."

You blink, feeling your pulse quicken. "Inevitable?"

Acting dumb won’t slow down that inevitable, either.

"You know," he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "Us."

You narrow your eyes, though your heart is now undoubtedly hammering in your chest. "You have a lot of nerve assuming there's an 'us,' Satoru."

He raises an eyebrow, stepping even closer, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "Please, y/n, I've seen the way you look at me. You're totally into me."

Your mouth drops open, a mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling up. Sure, he’s absolutely right, you’re head over heels for your handsome and charismatic coworker, but hell, he makes it sound one-sided when that’s so far from the truth.

“Excuse me? You’re the one who’s always staring at me during meetings. It’s creepy."

"Oh, so you notice me staring," he teases, his grin widening. "Admit it, you like it."

"I do not!" you huff in honest annoyance, cheeks burning. "And even if I did, why would I ever admit it to you? Your ego is already big enough to take up the whole room."

Gojo dramatically places a hand over his heart. "Ouch. You wound me, darling. Here I was, thinking we had a good thing going."

You cross your arms and shoot him a glare. "Yeah, well, you're delusional."

Denial will get you nowhere, you’re well aware, but the fact that Gojo is so cocky about it flips a switch inside you which makes consider whether your should jump him or jump him.

He chuckles as he leans in slightly, his face only inches from yours now. "Am I? Or are you just too shy to admit you like me?"

You swallow hard, refusing to back down. "Like you? Please, you're insufferable."

"Insufferable, huh?" he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "Then why haven't you moved away yet?"

Fair point.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Yes, you could have backed up, put some distance between you two, but instead, you’re just rooted in place, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Gojo’s smirk softens.

"You're cute when you're mad, you know that?"

You scoff, though it comes out weaker than intended. "And you're annoying, as always."

He tilts his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Maybe, but you like me anyway."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can form any sort of response, his lips are on yours, cutting you off with a sudden kiss. For a moment, you freeze in shock, but then, instinct takes over, and you kiss him back. His lips are sweet, soft, and despite the teasing and the banter, the kiss is gentle, almost tender. Gojo's hand embraces your waist and slowly pulls you in, while the other rests on your face, and you can’t help but melt under his touch.

When you finally pull away, both of you are slightly breathless, and his usual cocky grin is replaced with a softer smile.

"See?" he whispers. "Told you it was inevitable."

“You're still insufferable."

"As if it doesn’t turn you on," he teases, leaning in for another kiss.

Outside the storage room, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi exchange their triumphant high-fives.

"Mission accomplished," Nobara whispers.

Yuji nods. “Nicely done, Kugusaki."

Megumi shrugs his shoulders, glad that the whole thing is finally over.

You fell for the oldest trick in the book.

[yoonkinii]

First date with Sukuna!

Warning(s): Minor cursing. Requests open (only for this AU) Masterlist (Check for more AU content!) Note: I apologize for any errors in my writing. I am the only one writing and editing so I may miss a few things that don't belong. Please let me know if you spot any. <3

“You’ve been staring at your phone for like 20 minutes, just text him already.”

Shoko remarked from your bed, flipping through a fashion magazine she found lying around. She had come over for a study session, but it quickly turned into you telling her about getting Sukuna’s number and having no idea how to proceed. 

“I can’t.” You whine, cheek pressed against the surface of your low living room table. 

Your studio apartment, though compact, was efficiently designed. The entryway doubled as storage, with hidden closets lining the walls and a discreet door on the left revealing the bathroom. The entry all opened into the main living area, where the lines between living room, bedroom, and dining area blurred. A small sofa sat against one wall, accompanied by a flower-shaped coffee table, with a TV hanging on the opposite wall, perfectly positioned for viewing from either the couch or bed. 

The right side of the apartment is occupied by your bed, creating a cozy sleeping nook, partially obscured by a tall bookshelf acting as a makeshift partition. The evening sun filtered through the window above the bed, casting gentle shadows on the floor. Sheer curtains adorned the window, more for decoration than privacy since you lived on the fourth floor.

The kitchen, tucked into one corner, was a masterpiece of compact efficiency. It contained the essentials: a stove, microwave, and small fridge. Wooden cabinets above the counter held a few cooking essentials and acted as a pantry.

“What do you even mean by that? You got his number, just text him,” Shoko counters, sitting up from her position on your bed and making her way over to you. She plops down beside and, with a practiced swipe, unlocked your phone.  

You hiss, raising your head from the table and narrowing your gaze at her. “I didn’t give you my phone password so you could just go through it whenever.”

“What else am I going to do with your phone?” She replied nonchalantly.

“You are insufferable.”

She hums, her thumb nail lightly grazing her teeth as she deftly types on your phone’s screen. You realize too late what she was doing and lunge for your phone, snatching it out of her grasp. 

You gasp, dread filling your insides. “Why did you do that?” you screech, practically flinging your phone back onto the table as if it had burned your hand. You stood up, running your hands through your hair as you pace around the limited space of your apartment. “You just basically screwed me over by sending that text.”

Shoko rolls her eyes, picking up your phone from where you discarded it. “I did not screw you over.” She insisted. “Look, he’s typing.”

Practically tripping over air, you were by Shoko’s side in an instant, staring at the typing bubbles on the screen. A moment later, your phone dinged with a new message- from Sukuna. Shoko grinned, glazing at you. “See? I helped you out.”

“Holy shit,” you muttered, grabbing the phone and staring at the few simple words on your screen.

Your stomach churned with anxiety. 

It had taken hours to get ready for this date, even with Shoko’s help. The fact that Sukuna had chosen a three-star Michelin restaurant didn’t ease your nerves- such a place was beyond your wildest dreams. Miraculously, you found something suitable for the occasion buried deep in your closet. 

You wore a sleek, off-the-shoulder black dress that hugged your figure perfectly. The sleeves flared slightly at the wrists, adding a touch of elegance without feeling too constricting. The dress’s hemline was on the shorter side, so you paired it with slightly sheer black tights. Completing the outfit were black pumps and a small purse slung over your shoulder, just big enough to hold your phone, wallet, apartment keys, and a few necessities. 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your jittery stomach. The last thing you needed was a bout of nerves ruining your first date with the man of your dreams. Your inexperience with fancy places gnawed on you. What if there were specific forks you had to use? Or a certain way to speak?

Shaking off your nerves as best as you could, you finally stepped into the restaurant. The smooth sounds of jazz- saxophone and piano- immediately enveloped you, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance. The building was bathed in a dim glow, with soft light illuminating from bulbs hanging down from the veiling, reminiscent of a starlit sky. 

A hostess appeared before you, exuding an air of professionalism. Dressed in attire reminiscent of a butler’s uniform, complete with white gloves, she greeted you with a polite smile. When you gave her your name, her demeanor shifted slightly; her back tensed, and her eyes widened fractionally before she quickly regained her composure, making you wonder if you had even imagined it. 

As you followed the hostess, you took in the restaurant’s decor. White tablecloths covered the tables, each adorned with a lit candle and a bouquet of roses. Booths lined the walls, their half-circle seats echoing the elegance of the freestanding tables. In the center of the room, a dais hosted the musicians whose performance had captivated you to the point that you nearly collided with the hostess when she abruptly stopped.

Stepping back to create some distance, you meet her gaze. She smiles and tilts her head slightly, motioning for you to ascend the staircase you hadn’t noticed before. It was unusual for a restaurant to have a second story, so you didn’t bother paying much attention towards the ceiling. Now, you see a balcony-like area surrounding the walls of the building, offering a view of the first-floor patrons below. Tables similar to those on the ground floor were placed along the second-story banisters. 

Ascending the spiral stairs with the hostess following at a respectful distance, you reached the top and the hostess once again took the lead. She guided you past various tables to a secluded booth in a back corner, partially hidden by a sheer black curtain. The dark lighting made the booth hard to spot, adding an air of exclusivity and intimacy to it. 

Even in the dim light, you spotted him immediately, his pink hair unmistakable. His back was to you, giving you a few brief moments to take him in before you had to face him. He wore black slack, with the sleeves of his white button-up shirt rolled up to his forearms, revealing more of his intricate tattoos. Two bands of black ink encircled his wrists, their meaning being a mystery to you. You couldn’t dwell on his tattoos any longer as the hostess parted the curtain, gesturing for you to take a seat opposite of Sukuna. 

Your palms were sweaty; in fact, you felt a clammy discomfort all over. Biting your bottom lips, you slid into the booth, surprised by how deeply you sank into the cushion. 

A low chuckle from across the table snaps you out of your thoughts. Your head jerks up, and you find yourself staring at Sukuna. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone. Your mind goes blank as you take in the exposed skin of his collarbone and chest, revealing a peak of well sculpted muscles. 

“You should see the face you’re making right now,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement. He picks up a glass filled with amber liquid, taking a small sip and setting it back down. “I must say, I was quite surprised by how forward you were over text. No greeting or anything, just straight to business.”

Snapping out of your daze, you laugh nervously, your hands fiddling with the hem of your dress under the table. “Sorry about that.” You couldn’t help but apologize, worried that Shoko might have done more harm than good. You barely even knew Sukuna, having only encountered him twice and even those moments were brief. 

He hums, leaning back into his seat, his gaze fixed on you. You stare back, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do. His eyes roamed over your body, and he made no effort to hide what was doing. Your skin felt like it was on fire under his scrutiny. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips. 

“I never asked, but,” He pauses, his eyes locking onto  yours. “How old are you?”

“I’m 25.” 

“Oh?” He leans forward, forearms resting on the table. “That’s quite a big age gap between us.”

You couldn’t help the small pout that forms on your lips, your brows knitting together. “If a seven-year age gap is big for you, then I have a few questions. And I thought I made it clear I didn’t care.”

His eyes lit up with something akin to amusement. “So she does have some bite in her.” Sukuna raises a hand, and almost as if he had summoned them, a waiter appeared. Dressed similarly to the hostess, the waiter bowed slightly as Sukuna made a gesture at them. Without a word, a menu was placed before you. 

“Thank you,” you offered the waiter as you opened the menu. Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at the prices listed. Everything was outrageously expensive; even a simple salad cost a small fortune. Your heart sank along with your pride. 

Guess I’ll have to work overtime for a while, you thought to yourself, your heart breaking slightly at the mere thought of having to work extra hours. 

The waiter returned with a glass of water, taking your order after setting down your drink. You cast a curious glance at Sukuna as the waiter took your menu. He never received one and didn’t even look at yours. 

“Are you not ordering?” You questioned once the waiter was far enough, worry lacing your tone. 

“They already know what I want,” He replied flatly. 

Letting out a soft ‘Ah’ of acknowledgment, you settle back against the booth, taking in your surroundings. It’s not every day you find yourself in such an upscale establishment, so you might as well savor the experience. 

“I take it this is your first time at a place like this?” His voice draws your attention back to him. His eyes are fixed on you, a brow arched in curiosity. 

“God no,” you laugh softly. “I’m in college right now, so there’s no way I could afford places like this.” You admit sheepishly, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“What are you studying?”

“Biology.”

“You want to be a doctor?”

You visibly deflate, your hands cradling the chilled glass of water, fingers gently tapping against its surface. “I used to think so, but the deeper I got into my degree, the more I realized how difficult it is. I think I’ll just become a nurse and work for my friend.”

Shoko is determined to become a doctor, claiming she wants to be her own boss and not have to answer to, in her words, ‘stupid old people.’ You wouldn’t mind working under her as one of her nurses. She’s also said she wouldn’t mind it either, so that’s your current goal. 

Sukuna hums, nodding thoughtfully. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you study him, taking in his appearance. He arches a brow at your stare, almost daring you to say something. And you do. 

“Your piercing.” You begin, pointing to your own eyebrow to mirror his. “Did it hurt really bad?”

“No.” 

“No?” You echo, surprised by his response. Even with a high pain tolerance, it still must’ve hurt a little. 

“No,” He affirms. “I was shit face drunk when I got them.”

You blink at him. Once. Twice before a laugh you can’t hold back escapes you. Your hand covers your mouth, slightly surprised by your own reaction. Sukuna tuts his lips, a slight frown pulling on his lips. 

“Think that's funny, brat?”

You heave out a breath, sighing away to remnants of your laughter. “Hey, I don’t think that warrants being called a brat.” 

“Well you are laughing like an immature brat.” He snarls lowly, lips hovering against the rim of his glass as he takes another sip.

“I’m not sure that I'm the immature one. I wasn’t the one that got drunk and pierced their eyebrow.”

Sukunas eyes narrow on you, lips curling into a half-smile. “Cheeky,” He mumbles more to himself.

Talking to Sukuna felt surprisingly easy. Even when the food arrived, the conversation continued to flow smoothly, with you doing most of the talking. It was clear that Sukuna had a slight temper, evident in the way he grumbled to himself when the waiter made a mistake or how his brows knit together in frustration. Once, when the waiter accidentally brought over a drink neither of you ordered, Sukuna dismissed him with a curt “It’s fine,” but you noticed the way his eyes followed the waiter, as if trying to burn holes in his back. 

Despite his temper, his annoyance was never directed at you. He listened intently when you spoke, adding his own bits to the conversation. You learned that he got all his ear piercings at once, with the gauges being the most bothersome to take care of. His tattoos came a few years later, taking longer to complete because his tattoo artist wasn’t comfortable doing such a large project in one sitting.

Sukuna also shared that his “dumbass nephew” lived with him, usually bothering him and rarely ever shutting up. Despite Sukuna’s grimace while talking about his nephew, it was clear he cares deeply for him. He shows you photos of Yuji on his phone, from baby pictures to ones from elementary and middle school, grumbling about how Yuji sucked at math in middle school. You could tell that beneath his gruff exterior, Sukuna had a soft spot for his family. Why else would he have so many photos saved on his phone?

Time flew by in an instant, and before you knew it, the check landed on the table. Acting on impulse, you reached for your purse, intending to retrieve your wallet. But before you could even open your purse, the waiter swiftly whisked away the bill. 

“Wait-” You called after the retreating waiter, but he didn’t turn back. Sukuna observed you with a bored depression, his temples resting against his propped-up hand. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly close your purse. 

“We could’ve split the bill.” You suggested, eyeing Sukuna across the table. 

“Like you could afford it,” he retorted coolly

Your face flushed, lips pressed into a thin line at his comment. Though it rang true, you still felt a twinge of guilt. Who knew how much this dinner had cost, and whether Sukuna could even afford it without consequences. 

“When a man pays for your meal, you should really be thanking them more than complaining.” Sukuna remarked. 

You fix  Sukuna with a hard stare until he sighs at your stubbornness, relenting. “Fine. You can treat me next time.”

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening slightly at the implication behind his words. A smile spreads across your face involuntarily. “Really?” you repeat, practically beaming with joy. Sukuna rolls his eyes but he couldn’t hide the half-smile beginning to form on his lips. “If I knew you were going to light up like the damn sun, I might have said otherwise.”

You clicked your tongue, letting out a faux laugh. “Ha ha, too late to take it back now.”

Chuckling softly, Sukuna leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a hint of sincerity in his eyes.

“No, I guess I can’t.”

-

Tag List (open):@kalulakunundrum , @fushipurro

[beneatheaven]

masked sex with beomgyu

lowercase intended, 1,841 words, haven’t proof read

smut under cut, minors do not interact

you weren't one for parties. you would have rather been in your dorm studying or under your covers sleeping. but your friends insisted on you going out to this halloween party. dress up, sexy for once, and let loose. you gave in, because the idea of dressing up for one night of the year, as something you aren't, sounded fun.

just the cliche, out of your comfy modest clothes that covered you up. into a body fitting slim dress. with every step it wanted to ride up your thighs, and it made your boobs look good. nothing something you would ever be seen wearing..thanks to your friends for finding this for you. being dressed as the typical college angel, throwing on some wings and getting your makeup and hair done cutely.

lastly you decided to wear a mask to cover the top half of your face, with the prettiest beading. maybe if no one knew who was under the mask, you would be more confident with your actions..

still really nervous when you arrived to the party. at one of the many halloween college parties at the handful of frat houses. you looked so hot though, so you needed to feel hot. you and your friends doing a round of shots before doing anything. guys started to look at you, noticing your curves, feeling less tense now, you told your friends you were going to look for someone to dance with. they cheered for your new found confidence as you walked away.

you knew only a few people at this party, and some were familiar faces. then of course.. so many of them in costume you could either not see their face too well or had no idea who they were. although everyone is here to look hot, get drunk, and have fun.

turning around to go look somewhere else, you bumped into someone. "oh i'm sorry about that." he turned around to get a look at you. he was in a mask similar to yours, except he had fake blood splattered on it and on his face. you looked down to see he had some more on his open button up and blazer. as well on his chest that was peaking through.

"no worries you're good." "did i scare you?" he was so tall and his lips were so pretty. "no no, you don't look scary, you look pretty hot." his words making your skin jump a little. "i could say the same about you, what are you supposed to be a psycho killer?" reaching your hand out to play with the buttons on his shirt were the fake blood stains were. "yea, i left my axe somewhere but i think it's long gone." he's checking you out and how pretty you looked under the party lighting. even if he can't see you because of the mask.

"but i wanted to wear a mask because i'm not really into these things. if you saw what i looked like i think you would understand." he didn't mind your hands on his chest. "i don't know, you look pretty hot right now. who's to say you aren't like this all the time " you don't understand how you're talking like this so easily. "but i like the mask, makes you more mysterious." he laughs lightly, smirking at you. god he's so fucking hot already.

"guess you like me more than just for my scary psycho killer costume." he tries to pull you in closer to him. "maybe i do, come chase me and find out." stepping back from him. "serious, want me to chase you?" nodding at him. "okay, let's do it, better run fast."

starting to push through the crowd of people, the sound of your heels clicking against the hard floors, it was easy to follow you. at some point he saw you enter into a more secluded area of the frat house. when you entered it looked like a room they used for storage space. lots of closets and boxes everywhere. deciding to hide inside a closet, you could hear the loud music along with the sound of your heart racing. this was so fun for you.

hearing the door open following his voice. "hmm i could almost feel how scared you are." you could hear his voice a lot more clear. it was deep and sultry. he was looking around the room still until he stood in front of the closet you were hiding in. "does this turn you on? being chased by a masked stranger?" honestly yes it does, he's making you rub your thighs. trying to help that aching feeling he's giving you. "now, come out for me." he says as he opened the closet doors open. doing a playful dramatic scream for him. "so cute, how was that?" his hands finding your waist, pulling you out the closet to pin you against the wall.

"perfect, so turned on now." resting your hands on his chest leaning your lips closer to his. he sensing the tension, leaning into you and sharing a deep kiss with you. one of your hands finding its way to the back of his neck, kissing him harder, making the kiss messy. your roughness was making him moan into your mouth. his deep moans making you wetter by the minute. you don't want to hear the end of it.

he broke the kiss, making you whine, missing the feeling of his lips against yours. "so hot and sexy, wore this short dress to get fucked didn't you." heavy breathing trying to catch you breathing nodding at him. your hands going up this face, touching his mask. "god your body is so hot." his hands exploring your body, your focus still being o his face, you could see the hunger in his eyes. "off." chuckling lightly at how whiny you sound. "no not yet pretty. let me see more of you first." trusting his words, you let him continue to explore you.

his left hand holding onto your face while his right hand finds its way between your thighs. "here let me put my thumb in your mouth." parting your lips for him letting him slip his thumb inside. moaning softly for him. "such a good listener, sweet girl." his fingers pushing your panties to the side, gliding his fingers up and down your core teasing you. inserting a finger inside, making you yelp. his left going down to your waist to keep you steady.

"fuck, you're so sexy like this, yea you like this don't you? a stranger fucking his fingers into you?" "god yes yes, please." digging your fingers into his shoulders. he just knew how to talk to you.. "yea you wouldn't want me if you knew what i looked like." "n-not true, ohh please don't stop." inserting a second finger, he kept his fast movements inside you, his lips finding your neck and collarbones, covering your skin in wet sloppy kisses and a hickey here or there.

he was so alluring, looking up at you as he kissed your skin. getting lost in his stare, such pretty eyes he had. "let me see you." taking your chance, lifting the mask off his face..

you couldn't believe it, one of the hottest frat guy in your class, choi beomgyu, was fingering you and found you hot. "like what you see?" "mhmm.." pulling him up into a kiss. hands holding onto his face so he wouldn't pull away too soon but be broke the kiss to look right at you and say "now it's your turn pretty."

lifting up the mask with one hand, as his fingers stopped inside you. a small quiet whine left your lips as he saw your entire face. "of course, girls like you are so freaky." his fingers thrusting inside you again. so glad he found you hot after knowing who you really are. "b-beomgyu please-" "yea say my name like that, cream on my fingers baby."

after a couple more seconds, he took his fingers out of you. licking his fingers clean of your juices. "alright come on, lift that dress up a little more for me." as if your dress hasn't completely ridden up your thighs by now. hearing the sound of his belt and pants ruffling as he pulls them down. "here lift your leg up, yea yea around my waist." you were so wet, inserting his cock in you was a breeze.

holding onto his shoulders, as he held onto your waist to help his fast thrust. "god this costume was made to get fucked in, wasn't it?" his words making you moan, turning you on so much. there's just no way he had you like this right now. "yes, for you, j-just for you." earning a rough groan from him, cutest quiet girl in his class, was losing it all for him.

he looked so hot, his long hair faming his face perfectly. the dark lighting, with the help of the moon peaking through the blinds, you found beauty in everything about him. his lips finding yours again, neither of you would get tired of each others taste.

his thrust getting harder now, making you yelp breaking the kiss and dig your nails into his shoulders. "you like it rough don't you?" "god yes." pulling out of you until it was just the tip, just to thrust his entire length roughly. you could feel how thick he was inside you, every vein and bump, he was so perfect. "take my big cock, take it slut."

he knew how to get you going. continuously thrusting, while kissing your neck, hickeys in places you're going to have trouble covering up later. but you didn't care, you have him right now. "you close?" nodding with a whine escaping your lips. bitting down your lower lip as his thumb comes down finding your clit to rub it.

you came with a loud moan of his name, "yea scream for me, no one can hear you." getting louder and he helped ride out your high. "ohhh i'm cumming baby." feeling his seed inside you. it all just felt so good. when he pulled out of you, both of you moaned, at the feeling and sight of his cum dripping out of you, down your legs.

he made you so weak you lost your balance. "hey hey i got you." his hold on you made you feel so warm. after all that he still cared. thanking him for his sweet action. "yea, did you like that? because.. i did." still catching his breathe while he looks at you, the way your eyes shine at his words. "i did, i really did beomgyu. i wouldn't have expected this to happen if i'm being honest." getting shy under his gaze.

"me either, but i just didn't know how to approach you before. but please, after this let me take you out on a proper date." flashing a smile at you, he was so pretty. "i would love that beomgyu."

[sematarygirls]

stop i’m literally so in love with your acc, it’s gorgeous!!!! missed you sm. need to start writing or creating something again tbh but idk what.

anywaysss had this super cool drummer!rafe idea where they’re all like mid-20s and were suspected of murder (maybe a roadie died or an ex bandmate??)

buttt there you are interning with the local police department (aka nancy drew nerd) and go poking around (woah somehow you end up in rafe’s arms what a coincidence). maybe he did it or maybeee he didn’t, who knows. ur just a silly little inter.. right?? unless ofc this wasn’t the first time you met and you both did it together?

anyways do what you wish with this, feel free to let it rot. ur a genius mastermind either way. ily mwahhh

(here’s some drew pics mini moodboard bc why not)

Partners In Crime — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: drummer!rafe x policeintern!reader

summary: your internship at the kildare county sheriff's department proves extremely useful after ex-bandmate of local rock sensation, morphine animals, is found murdered.

warnings: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, murder, inaccuracies regarding police work

word count: 3.6k words !

a/n: this request is AMAZING omg!! your mind is literally so incredibly brilliant. i am so incredibly jealous. i just want to scoop it out and study it because your plots are always so genius it's insane. also, i got a little freaky with this request. i don't know where it came from, but i hope yall enjoy. side note, i know nothing about police stations or internships beyond what I've seen on tv, so this is most likely very far from anything that would happen in real life.

✶ . ࣪ ׅ   You cursed quietly, swatting a mosquito away from you as your fingers danced along the collection of files, skimming through the box of evidence labeled "Ryder, Elliot". It was July, and the summer was in full swing. the air was thick and heavy, causing a layer of sticky sweat to cling to every inch of your body. The cramped storage room seemed to be at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the police station, and it had the added bonus of recycled air that smelled of dust and mildew.

Your gaze flickered between the door and the police report in your hands, readying yourself to be caught any moment now. Technically, you weren't supposed to be looking at anything in this room. You were simply an intern, and as such, your jobs mostly consisted of clerical work like running the front desk, answering phones, and filling out the occasional police report—typically for some misdemeanor offense that they had granted you competent enough to navigate your way around.

On a normal day, you did not have clearance to be in this little room with all the important documents pertaining to cases ranging anywhere from vandalism to first-degree murder. However, on this particular day, you had been instructed to organize and clean the records room, ensuring that everything was dusted off and placed in alphabetical order.

You knew you weren't really supposed to take a peek into any of these boxes, but when you saw the name Elliot Ryder on one of the boxes, you simply couldn't help yourself. It was the biggest case your town had seen in the last decade.

"Local rock legend Morphine Animal's ex-band-mate found murdered" had been splashed across headlines for weeks, each news site ranging from local to national discussing the case and their theories, but surprisingly much of the case had remained a mystery.

Morphine Animals had been practically untouchable ever since they skyrocketed to fame. It was truly fascinating how quickly they went from small-town rockstar wannabes to household names. They became a national sensation practically overnight, and it all started when Elliot Ryder was fired as the band's drummer and replaced by Rafe Cameron.

You remembered it vividly. Elliot went around telling everybody who would listen how he was cheated out of fame. The other three band members had been his childhood best friends. The band was their passion project and they had vowed to do it all together, but then, one night, they just dropped him out of the blue, and Rafe Cameron took his spot.

People couldn't help but wonder if the band's colorful history had anything to do with the murder. The whole situation would've made more sense if Rafe was the one murdered. It would be open and shut. Elliot killed Rafe to get back at him for taking his spot and stealing the fame that was "rightfully" his, but revenge just doesn't quite sit right with the case being turned around.

Rockstar drummer that has it all kills small-town drunk nobody? It just doesn't fit.

You turn your attention back to the police report in hand. You didn't have much time left before someone inevitably needed a file or came to check on you, so you needed to focus, read it, and put everything back where you found it before that happened.

Case Number 0608

Responding Officer: Sheriff Susan Peterkin

On 06/28/2023 at approximately 2100 hours, I responded to a noise complaint at 2971 Shorecrest Drive.

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I announced myself as the police and knocked once more, but again, received no answer. I looked into the window for signs of life, and saw Elliot Ryder laying prone on the living room floor with a pool of blood around him. I immediately radioed for assistance and kicked down the door. I checked his pulse and discovered that Ryder was deceased. While I waited for assistance, I secured the scene. At approximately 2110 hours, Deputy Victor Shoupe, Officer Danielle Lyonne, and Officer Franklin Hewitt arrived on scene. Officers Hewitt and Lyonne canvased the surrounding homes and took their statements to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything. Their individual statements are enclosed. Deputy Shoupe called for the coroner and cordoned off the area while I began assessing the crime scene in a spiral method. Pictures included document the blood patterns and shattered glass discovered at the scene. No murder weapon was discovered.

I instructed Deputy Shoupe to stay at the scene and await the coroner's arrival while I headed back to the station. At approximately 2330 hours, I left the scene.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you read over the report. You used the back of your hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead—created from a mix of the unbearable heat and your growing nervousness as the moments ticked by—stopping them from dripping down your skin.

Your gaze darted to the door once again before returning to the files, pulling out a series of pictures that documented the crime scene.

He was found on his stomach, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. The cause of death was blunt force trauma, and it was very evident from the crime scene photos.

You turned your attention from the photos documenting his body to the ones showing the state his living room had been left in. There was broken glass from a shattered mirror near the front door coating the carpet, and the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Furniture had been turned over, his belongings strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It seemed like whoever had been there was looking for something.

Something in one of the photos caught your eye. It was small, almost imperceptible, but the flash from the camera reflected off something imbeded into the cream colored carpet just beneath the table that Elliot's body was found beside.

Your brows furrowed as you brought the photo closer to your face, squinting to get a better look.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you jump. You quickly folded the picture and shoved it into your pocket before placing the photos and police report back into the box and hauling it onto the shelf.

"Hey, kid," Deputy Shoupe peeked his head inside, the sound of him chewing his gum seemingly reverberating off the walls. You turned, your face flushed, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You had managed to get everything in order moments before he opened the door.

"Uh, yes, sir?" You cleared your throat, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your sticky forehead.

"Boss lady needs the Ryder files," he informed you, still smacking his gum. The sound filled your ears, somehow louder than the beating of your own heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned and grabbed the box, the piece of paper in your pocket feeling like it weighed a ton as you carried the heavy box over to him. "Can I ask why?" You worked up the courage to ask, handing him the files, your palms sweaty as you pulled back.

"Just got done interviewing Rafe Cameron," he told you, propping the box under his arm. Your eyes widened a fraction. Why was Sheriff Peterkin reinterviewing him? Was there new evidence to connect him to the murder? "So, she wants to take another look at the evidence."

"Oh," you simply said, the room seeming to grow hotter. "Whew, god, it's hot," you huffed, fanning yourself. "Are you hot?" You asked, clearly not doing well at playing it cool.

"You alright kid?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously at your odd behavior.

"Yeah, I think I'm just gonna step outside and get some air," you nodded, suddenly feeling very suffocated in the stuffy atmosphere.

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, clearly not all that interested in you or your actions as he turned on his heels to deliver the box to Peterkin.

You hurried down the long, grey corridor, pushing the backdoor open harshly when you arrived at it. Outside wasn't much cooler, but the small, shaded alleyway provided reprieve from the sun's unrelenting rays. You took a few deep breaths, feeling better now that you were breathing fresh, clean air.

"You look like shit," a voice piped up. Your head whipped to the side, eyes finding the source. Rafe Cameron was leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like a second skin. the heat was just as unforgiving on him, his muscles glistening and his hair sticking out in all directions, a few strands clinging to his slick forehead.

"Excuse me," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Truthfully, you knew you probably did look like shit. You were sweating like a pig, your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably, and after hours of running your hands through it and being subject to intense humidity, your hair was undoubtedly frizzy and wild.

Rafe pushed off the wall, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his boot. His blue eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing in them as he approached you. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, well, you don't look too hot yourself," you rolled your eyes. It was a lie, of course. Somehow, he even made sweating to death in the sweltering July heat look sexy. It was utterly infuriating.

He grinned, amused at your attempt to insult him, but he could see right through you. "You mad at me or somethin'?" His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist, his grip sending shivers down your spine.

"You just said I looked like shit," you glared at him. The heat was making you irritable, and it didn't help that his stupid fucking earring—that you'd told him twenty goddamn times to take out—had showed up in a crime scene photo.

Rafe's thumb began to trace circles on the inside of your wrist, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. "C'mon, you know I was just teasing you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. He knew how to play your body better than he knew how to play his drums.

You stubbornly pulled away from him, ignoring the way your body reacted to his touch. "You're lucky I got saddled with file room duty, asshole" you gritted out, pulling the picture from your back pocket and shoving it into his muscular chest.

Rafe wore a silver stud in his ear, a staple of his rockstar persona, and that little glimmer of reflected flash in that crime scene photo was that stud, which had fallen out during the murder.

Thankfully, it hadn't been logged into evidence and had been completely overlooked by the bumbling small town crime scene techs, so you only had to take the photo to keep that little piece of incriminating evidence from ever being discovered.

Rafe glanced down at the photo, his expression unchanging as he took it in. He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You worried about me, babe?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery, but there was a harder edge to it that betrayed his unperturbed demeanor.

"No," you shot back, your brows furrowing in frustration. God, the heat was making you bitchy. "I'm worried about myself. I mean, I covered up your little fuck up perfectly. The last thing I need is for you and your lame ass jewlery to fuck me over."

Rafe's hand snaked out and wrapped around your throat, his grip tight but not painful. He backed you up against the brick wall, his eyes boring into yours. "You think I can't take care of my own shit?" He asked, his voice a low growl. His patience was clearly wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He was already agitated at being ripped away from band practice to do this little song and dance with the police. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him and challenging his capabilites.

"If you could take care of your own shit, you wouldn't have called me in the middle of the night panicking because you fucking killed someone," you retorted, not backing down. You weren't afraid of him in the slightest. You knew what he was capable of, but it didn't scare you. In fact, there was a twisted part of you that liked knowing about his violent side.

Rafe Cameron had been the one to kill Elliot Ryder in cold blood, and he'd called you up moments after because he knew your experience as a police intern would come in handy. You had rushed over and helped him stage the whole thing as a burglary gone wrong. Unfortunately, Rafe hadn't realized his little wardrobe malfunction until it was too late to go back and retrieve it.

His face darkened, his hand tightening around your throat. "I had it handled," he hissed. "Until you showed up and decided to play detective." His other hand reached down, gripping your hip possessively. "You're supposed to be on my side, not throwing my mistakes in my face."

"Then stop making dumb fucking mistakes," you spat, your jaw clenching in annoyance. You could feel your panties growing wetter by the second, which only fueled your frustration toward him. You hated how he could still make you want him even when he was being a complete asshole.

Rafe's face twisted with anger, but beneath it, you saw a flicker of something else—desire. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your lips. "You know, I should just shut you up for good," he muttered, his grip on your throat unyielding.

"Yeah?" You asked, your voice almost taunting. "You gonna kill me, Rafe?" You looked him in the eye, not backing down. "Who's gonna clean up your messes then, huh?"

His expression turned grim, and for a monent, you thought he might actually do it. But, then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to yours in a rough, bruising kiss. His hands tightened further on your hip, pressing against your body and pinning you in place.

He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood. His tongue darted out, lapping up the blood and soothing the wound as his thumb rubbed over your pulse point, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened with desire. His mouth tasted of nicotine, stale beer, a slight hint of mint, and then the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue. If it were anyone else, you would've recoiled in disgust, but something about him was intoxicating.

He was so close you could feel his bulge pressing into you, and it only made you want him more. You didn't care that you were pressed against a wall in the back alley behind the police precinct, in fact, something about it, the potential thrill of getting caught, turned you on more.

Rafe's hands moved to grip your ass under your skirt, roughly palming the fatty flesh with his rough hands. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled.

"Yeah, well you're fucking insufferable," you said breathlessly, tilting your head to the side and threading your fingers into his hair as he continued his assault on your neck.

He grunted in response, his hands squeezing your backside painfully before he pulled away to fumble with his belt, the buckle clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet alley.

As he fiddled with his belt, you took your opportunity to latch your lips onto his neck, the salty taste of his skin mixed with the thin layer of sweat coating him danced on your tongue as you sucked and nipped at the areas you knew would drive him wild.

Rafe's breathing hitched as you marked him, his body stiffening. He finally got his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, shoving them down just enough to free his hard length.

He gripped your thighs, hoisting you up and pressing you hard against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Think you need to learn your place," he said darkly, pulling your panties to the side.

With one swift movement, he thrust deep inside you, filling you completely. He held you pinned against the wall, his hips rolling into yours in deep, punishing thrusts. "You're supposed to worship the ground I walk on," he muttered, his voice ragged.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his powerful hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into you. His blue eyes, darkened with lust, locked onto yours, watching your face intently.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and menacing. He slowed his pace, his hips rolling leisurely, his thick length stretching you wide. He knew his slow pace was like torture to you. "Tell me you worship me, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your face scrunching in a mix of pain and pleasure as the brick wall dug uncomfortably into your back. "I worship you, Rafe."

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, his pace quickening as he continued to slam into you, his hips rolling in that way that always hit that spot inside you, making you practically see stars. "Good girl," he praised, his lips finding yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and tugging slightly as his mouth swallowed your little whimpers and moans.

He released your mouth, his head tilting down to watch where you were joined. He let out a low groan, his body tensing as he watched himself disappear inside of you. "Look at you taking me so well," he gritted out, his pace quickening.

You gasped when you felt his thumb begin rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a dirty fuckin' girl," he growled. "Letting me fuck you in an alleyway, behind a police station no less." His lewd words only served to heighten your arousal.

His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy as he continued to pound into you. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt with my cum," he snarled, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

His words paired with his grip on your throat and the way he was pounding into you sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you moaned his name.

His hand on your neck tightened possessively as you came apart for him, his own release following shortly after as he felt your walls squeeze down on him, milking his cock. He buried his face against your neck, his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "That's my girl."

You panted, your head falling back against the brick as you caught your breath, your mind reeling as the weight of what you'd just done crashed over you. It was reckless and stupid to have let that happen, especially behind the police station you worked at. If anyone saw you, it could raise some serious red flags.

Rafe slowly lowered you back to the ground, pressing one last kiss to your swollen lips before tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, refastening his belt. He leaned against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette as he looked you over with a lazy smirk. "Try not to look so guilty."

"Don't be an asshole," you shot him a sharp look, fixing your skirt and blouse. Now, you had to go back to work and act as if you didn't have a murderer's cum leaking out of you.

Rafe took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. He watched you intently, his eyes glinting with amusement as he observed you straighten your hair and adjust your collar, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "I'll pick you up after your shift. We've got a few more things to discuss."

"You can't pick me up here," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, pushing off from the wall and taking a few slow steps closer to you. "And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew very well why not, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Don't play dumb, Rafe," you rolled your eyes. He could be so very infuriating when he wanted to be.

"Say it," he insisted, his voice firm. He took another step closer, towering over you. "Tell me why I can't pick you up here." His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a deceptively gentle touch.

You huffed frustratedly, narrowing your eyes at his insistence. "Because you killed Elliot Ryder, and I'm your fucking accomplice," you relented.

Rafe's hand tightened, gripping your cheeks firmly, his touch bordering on painful as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, his voice dark and threatening. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that, baby."

You glared up at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze. Everything always had to be a game with him, and sometimes it utterly maddened you.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'll pick you up around the corner," he said, as if the matter was settled. He took another drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and heading down the alleyway to his car.

You watched him leave, your gaze burning holes into his back for a moment as he retreated before you shook your annoyance away, pulling the back door to the station open and heading back inside.

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 01

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Masterlist

…

The next morning I woke up in disbelief of what I saw the previous night. I always thought Reginald’s grip on me was too tight for him to let go. I believed that he would live forever, that he would lecture me in his overpriced mansion when I failed at becoming my own person.

I didn’t know if I should feel sad or not, after all, it’s not like he would feel the same if it was me who died that man had the emotional intelligence of a zoo animal. At least that's what I tried to tell myself. But I did want to go back to my old home, just to see if this was a huge prank played on me and he would be there to finally give me what I wanted for years now.

No, this was reality and I knew that because at my front door was a letter, it was addressed from Pogo. The “man” who practically raised me instead of the parent I was supposed to have. How he knows where I live, I had no idea, but it felt good to hear from him after all this time. He told me to come back to the house for the service and I couldn’t just ignore him.

Since this was a funeral I should wear black or maybe some bright neon-colored outfit for the last F you to the big man. But after looking in my closet I realize I only own sad mundane clothes.

“Black it is..” I whisper to myself.

..

The taxi ride was silent, after telling the driver where I wanted to go I think she knew exactly who I was. I fixed my hair several times and thought about the other adopted children who also experienced hell living there. From time to time I do like to check up on how they're doing, never face to face though.

Like Allison and her latest celeb drama, or Diego still acting like a superhero only now he’s almost 30 and lives in someone else’s storage closet. I'm not sure that adult life has been kind to any of my siblings but I wish the ones who weren't here could’ve still experienced it.

We had come to a stop and I could see the house in all its glory, it gave me shivers that crawled down my spine. I stepped out of the taxi and just stared up at the tall building, If I was about to go in I needed to majorly hype myself up.

After standing there shaking, my shaky hand had finally started to open the intricate umbrella engraved glass doors. This reminded me of the first time I showed up to this place just as terrified of the unknown, but this time instead of crying on the doorstep the unknown opened the door for me. If the unknown was a small monkey man with glasses and a wooden walking stick named Pogo.

“Miss Y/n, please do come in.” Pogo expressed with a warm smile on his monkey face. “I believe you are one of the first to arrive, just right after Master Luther and Klaus. Luther is in your father's room and Klaus is in his study if you’d like to visit them.”

I wasn't paying attention to Pogo’s words, instead I was taking a look around. It took me a while to come up with the right words, it’s like I forgot how to speak. The inside of this place looked like it hadn't changed since I moved out, not one piece out of place.

“Maybe later.” I croaked out, “I'd like to take a look around for a bit.” We walked into the main lounge of the home. I forgot how much there was to see, the space was decorated very well in my opinion.

“As you wish Miss Y/n, let me know if you need anything else.” He called out as he started to walk in the opposite direction. I called back out to him in a small panic.

“Pogo wait,” I said and he turned back around to look at me.

“Yes-“ It only took me a few steps to reach him as I opened up my arms for a hug and he caught on. I embraced the smaller “man”, it felt so familiar, so comforting it almost made me feel good to be back. We stood like that for what could’ve been all my life and I wouldn't care before I pulled back thinking it was too much. “It’s so good to see you, my girl. Welcome home.” I immediately felt back at ease when he spoke those words.

Pogo was a prominent figure in my adolescence to the point where I didn't even question how a monkey could talk. I'd like to think of him as one of my saving graces for getting past the years that I could never forget.

“It feels strange to be back,” I said walking back over to the lounge area. On the wall, I could see a bunch of familiar items like our Umbrella Academy comics, some of our news articles and-

“How long has it been since Five disappeared?” A voice cut in, my eyes searched the room looking for that voice. I set my sights on a small scrawny woman with brown hair pulled into a bun.

It was Vanya, she’s changed since I last saw her but that comes with age I guess, she still shares the same mannerisms as her younger self.

“Miss Vanya! I'm glad to see you as well.” Pogo exclaimed, turning to her but then went back to the portrait of Five on the wall. Made just before he ran away but hung up after as a sign to remember him by our father. I don't think it was out of love for his son but more of a warning for us to not end up like him. “But to answer your question, it's been sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days. Your father insisted I keep track.”

I gave Vanya a little smile and she spoke again. “You wanna know something stupid? I always used to leave the lights on for him.” Pogo and I looked at her sympathetically. “I was scared that he would come back, it would be late, and the house would be dark and he wouldn't be able to find us, so he’d leave again.”

I don’t know if it was childish or hopeful for her to think he would just one day return to us and all would be forgiven but it was true that she never lost hope.

“So, every night I'd make a little snack and make sure all the lights were on.” She finished.

Pogo sighed at her words. “Oh, I remember your snacks. I'm pretty sure I stepped in half those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.” Yes, it was a sad memory but I think all three of us took comfort in the fact that they had these little things they did. To cope with the fact that a part of us was lost the day he left.”Your father always believed that Number Fiver was still out there somewhere. He never lost hope.” He continued.

Vanya frowned, “And look where that got him.”

..

Alison and Luther made their way to us in the lounge room along with Diego and Klaus following soon behind them, but I had already sat on a couch next to Vanya.

This was an odd event since everyone was so quiet and sticking to themselves or their drinks. And Pogo had left a few minutes ago so any conversations that he sparked no longer existed and it was back to complete silence.

I twiddled with a loose string on my cardigan, trying to shake at least some of the anxiety that brewed from the room. You’d think because we were together almost for half of our lives we would know how to ask each other how life’s been but I guess not. I'd have to talk to Alison sometime soon and also Klaus, out of everyone I've been the most excited to talk to him.

Luther stood up from one of the large couches and cleared his throat. “Uhm, I guess we should get this started. So, I figured we could have some sort of memorial service. In the courtyard at sundown.” He paused. “Say a few words, just at Dad’s favorite spot.”

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Alison questioned.

Luther replied, “You know, under the oak tree.” And I honestly doubt anyone knew or cared but him. He was always more attached to Dad anyway.

“We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?” Of course not...

Klaus chimed in walking over to the group, a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Will there be refreshments? Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“What? No. And put that out. You know Dad didn't allow smoking in here.” Luther argued.

“Well he is dead so does it matter” I said while rubbing my forehead. I'm already getting a headache from Luther and it's been five seconds. He throws me a look and I just shut up. Arguing with him also reminds me of a zoo animal and it's not just his new physique..

Alison points to Klaus’s interesting new outfit and says. “Is that my skirt?” And I'm reminded of our teenage years all over again.

“What? Oh! Yeah, this. I found it in your room.” Klaus says. “It’s a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits-“

Luther cuts in with a stern voice. “Listen up. Still, some important things that we need to discuss, all right?”

“Like what?” Diego asks and finally looks up at us.

“Like the way he died.”

“And here we go..” Diego remarks.

Vanya stares at Luther confused. “I don’t understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack?”

“Yeah, according to the coroner..”

“Well, wouldn't they know” I say?

“Theoretically”

“Theoretically?” Alison raises a brow at Luther's strange words.

“I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.” He adds on.

Klaus starts gurgling his alcohol and with a strange noise, he says. “Oh, quelle surprise!” Whatever that means..

“Strange how?” I try to continue.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

“I don’t think that’s anything out of the ordinary, like at all.” I shrug.

Diego stands from his chair. “Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.”

“No. He must have known something was gonna happen.” I roll my eyes at Luther's statement. “Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.” He finishes by looking at Klaus. The only one of us with those capabilities, Klaus looked panicked by his words.

“I can’t just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, Dad could you just.. stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take this quick call” Klaus states exaggerating the words with hand movements.

“Since when? That’s your thing.”

“I'm not in the right.. frame of mind.”

“You’re high?” Alison turns to look at Klaus.

“Yeah!” he chuckles, still holding his drink and cigarette while sitting “Yeah! I mean how are you not listening to this nonsense?”

“Well sober up, this is important,” says Luther and Klaus groans.”Then there’s the issue of the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?” Diego cuts in, which I would have to agree with.

“Exactly, it's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal.” Everyone stares at Luther like he is delusional and at this point, me included. “Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this? You lost me at Dad's favorite spot” I ask Luther directly.

Diego stares up at Luther and gets out of his chair to get closer to him. “Oh, isn’t it obvious, Y/n? He thinks one of us killed Dad.” I know everyone knew that was what he was saying but hearing it come from Diego’s mouth hit everyone.

“You do?” Says Klaus. “How could you think that?” Vanya added.

“Great job, Luther. Way to lead.” Diego walks out of the lounge room.

“That’s not what I'm saying,” Luther grunts.

Klaus gets up too not before saying this on his way out. “You’re crazy, man. You’re crazy. Crazy”

“I've not finished” Luther tries to tell us to sit back down.

“Sorry, I'm just gonna go murder, Mom. Be right back” I say with a smile.

“That’s not what I was saying. I didn't-“ Luther sighs as Vanya walks out too. Leaving Allison the last one in the room with a pleading Luther. “Alison. Jeez..” He says trying to call out to her. But unfortunately for him, she also walks away leaving him to mutter to himself alone. “That went well.”

..

“Hey,” I whispered to Vanya as she was sitting on the stairs deep in thought. “That was.. intense right?” Out of everyone she was the easiest to talk to, she always was there for me.

But I do have to admit I could’ve been there for her more and I'm not sure what she thinks about me after all these years. By her silence she confirmed what I thought, she hates me. After sitting for a second in the silence I wanted to run away and retreat to my room. But she raised her head and looked me in the eyes.

“Yeah it was, Luther was way off.” She says.

I could hug her right now, I'm so happy hearing her voice. I hummed in response but I couldn’t think of anything to say, we just ended up looking at each other waiting for the other to bring up our next topic. “Uhm you're still playing the violin, right? How’s that going.” I ask.

Vanya gives me an awkward smile “It's going pretty okay, I play for an orchestra near my apartment. I also give lessons to kids when I have the time.”

“That’s amazing Vanya.” I smile back. “What chair are you?” That is the extent of my orchestra knowledge, I always liked hearing her play but didn't have any knacks for instruments myself. And it's not like Dad would’ve given me any time to learn, always on to the next mission or session with him.

“Third” she frowns, “for the last couple of years now I guess.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I didn't want her to think that was bad because I'm sure she is trying her best so we were back to silence again. As I stare off into the distance.

But then I look up to hear a loud muffled noise, like a song? It was coming from upstairs. I wasn't going crazy because Vanya heard it too. I remember listening to this song as a teenager and my only conclusion is that this was playing from Luther's record player. The song still played as I told her who I thought was playing this, and we both started laughing before Vanya stood up and held her hand out to me and pulled me up too.

I kept laughing as she started to sway back and forth to the music, she looked so carefree so I joined her. I'm no star dancer myself but being with her made me feel like I could do anything and that's what I did. We bounced around as the chorus started, grabbing each other's hands and mouthing the lyrics.

“I think we’re alone now,” I started.

“Doesn’t seem to be anyone around” Vanya continues.

“I think we're alone now”

“The beating of our hearts is the only sound” This was an out-of-character moment for both of us but we didn't care, we were simply enjoying ourselves and I wondered if anyone else was dancing too.

The music skips as thunder cuts the song off and we stop. The whole house starts to rumble and Vanya grabs on to me as we look around at all the flying items that are coming off shelves and tables.

I was confused, nowhere did the forecast mention thunder and lighting at all and looking outside I didn't see anything, only a blue glowing ball forming in the sky near the back of the house.

Luther and Alison run from upstairs towards us and they tell us we need to go outside, where we run into Diego. He must have seen the glowing too.

..

“Oh shit“ I plug my ears, the lighting whips and thunder got louder as we reached the door. Diego was the first of us out there, and then we all followed. We were horrified at the sight ahead of us. No longer was this a blue ball but more like a large translucent blue ripple in the sky.

“What is it?” Vanya yells out.

Alison pushes Luther slightly back with her hand “Don’t get too close” she says.

“Yeah, no shit” Diego interjects.

Luther points it out. “Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two.” For a moment I forgot that he spent all that time and space, he was more knowledgeable than us.

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan!” Diego exclaims. Hearing all of their voices I slowly realized who was missing..

“Out of the way!” Klaus yells from inside.

He starts to run up to us with something in his hand “What are you doing?!” I called out. He then runs up to the “black hole” and throws a fire extinguisher into it? I'm worried for Klaus if his response to strange situations is to throw something at it.

Alison gave him a puzzled look “What is that going to do?” She said,

“I don’t know, do you have a better idea?” He replies with exasperation. His frustration seemed to somewhat affect the glowing thing because it suddenly got bigger, and flashed strong blue light at him. Klaus lets out a shriek and runs behind me.

“Woah woah get behind me,” Luther says addressing us. Diego decides to chime in, of course, to upstage him and says that we should get behind him instead.

“I vote for running c’mon!” Klaus tries to grab my arm but I stay still, if I was scared of anything anymore I would've run but I was dying to see how this played out.

All of us just kind of stood there, some probably accepted their fate that this blob of color was gonna swallow them whole. I look down to see Alison and Luther hand and hand.

But that's not the only thing I see, because something was coming out of the light. A man? A boy? I was so confused. He lets out a terrible screech, like coming through that “portal” was ripping him apart.

All of us take a closer look at the now clearer image because whatever was in the portal dropped down onto the mud-covered floor. And the blue light disappears above him.

“Oh my god,” I said, I finally recognized what was standing right in front of me. All of us took a couple of steps closer to him.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus asked.

Five looks down at himself and for the first time in close to 17 years I hear him speak.

“Shit.”

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[cherryredstars]

OH MY GOD REQUESTS ARE OPEN💃🏾💃🏾

gosh cherry i love you and your blog sm it makes my day😭

could i please have a college or highschool au where reader studies subjects like social science and business and literature and he does stem subjects and he at first has like a superiority complex, he doesn’t intend to, but he can’t help it, until he sees the reader like talk about social issues or how she can remember 17 step procedures and shit and he’s like…wow. maybe they can be together and he sees her pretend to teach people to learn and he’s learning stuff from her and it’s wholesome asf

god i don’t know i’m sorry im rambling😭😭 you don’t have to ofc but thank you anyway

and again, love you!!

Thank you, love!!!

He's the smartest person he knows.

It's not narcissistic if it's a fact. He's the top of his major program, already has offers for Ph.D programs nationwide mailed to his door. He's sure to get into any genetics department he wants for grad school. He's the star of the industry-path students. He's just that good, and what's the harm in taking pride in your accomplishments?

But he's never met someone like you before.

Usually he wouldn't care for people like you, with their abstract liberal art degrees in nonsense majors that'll just collect dust in a box in an attic somewhere. But there is something so enduring about you, about everything you do. The way you just know what people are thinking based on the twitch of their fingers and why they think it. The way you're so open to everything in a way that would make his lab buddies laugh with their one-way minds. It amazes him, the way your view is so wide in a way that something like genetics or STEM can't comprehend. In a way they don't allow. There is something so breath-taking about the way your mind has this endless freedom that he can't even grasp. Like a kaleidoscope of colors that are simultaneously beautiful and overwhelming to the senses. Something his factual mind craves.

The first time he had seen you, he was in the library. It isn't a place he would usually go to, but he had to collect some textbooks for his professor in the storage closet. He had gotten in a bit of trouble that day for taking so long, but how could he resist when he had heard the sweet cadence of your voice through the open door of a mini-lecture room. Very few students were in the room, it looked like a side presentation; one of those assignments that forced students to present their ideas on a topic to a group of people to try to captivate them into agreeing with your findings. There was a sort of fiery passion in the way you spoke, a hardened steel in your eyes that showed your resistance to back down. It was... enchanting, siren-like. So much so that he had been forced to sit in one of the empty seats in the back of the room, eyes stuck on you as you paced the front of class and rebutted comments from your peers.

He had no idea what you were talking about, but it still had that overwhelming effect on him. One that had him pressing the surface of his stomach against the hard edge of the lecture tables, his senses honing in to hear every last syllable that departed from your lips. There was this dream-like quality to you, something that consumed the mind and made them listen. A sort of intelligence that he would never know or understand. One that he would spend hours trying to learn if you were the one explaining it. He can't remember how long it took for him to start breathing again when your eyes scanned the room and locked onto him, clear confusion on your face at the random presence of college's most-awarded student. He could feel his heart bursting against his ribs, mouth parting slightly from the honor to be the center of your attention for even a few seconds before you looked away and carried on.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like the smartest person in the world. Not when you left him absolutely stupefied.