#was working on this while I took a bit of a break

[vampzity]

my eyes only | K.HJ

★ DAY FOURTEEN: NUDES WITH HONGJOONG ★

pairing: bf! hongjoong x f! reader

as hongjoong is stuck working late in the studio, you’re left with nothing but boredom to keep you company. it doesn’t hurt to send a spicy “i miss you” photo does it? what about a video?

[warnings]: MDNI 18+ !!!, smut, nudes, masturbation, clit play, pet names (baby, pretty girl), use of toys (dildo)

word count: 1.3k

⚠️PLEASE NOTE: pictures in this story DO NOT depict what MC looks like body wise!! it’s just for the plot so ofc just insert yourself as always ^^ ty ty !

Hongjoong stared at the ceiling in defeat as the clock struck 2 am. He was far from done with the last track of their upcoming album and was already growing tired. His booming amounts of inspiration were slowly fading as the night progressed and he felt defeated.

Meanwhile you sat in the bathtub aching for his touch, his warmth. You had trouble sleeping as Hongjoong wasn’t there to wrap his arms around you and bring you comfort, but you understood how important his work was. It wasn’t something you wanted to interrupt especially if he was stuck in a zone he tried to stay in.

So here you were, waiting and waiting. You’ve watched tv, you tried to distract yourself with countless minutes of scrolling but to no avail. Now you sat in a bathtub, alone, waiting for when he would finally come home to you.

[2:03 AM] You: when are you coming home? I’m so lonely 🙁

[2:04 AM] Captain 🖤: I’m not sure baby, I’ve hit a dead end.

You sighed to yourself, knowing it meant he wasn’t leaving that studio any time soon. You’ve always heard of writers block for books, for english majors, but never for song writers or producers.

Perhaps he just needed to take his mind off it and refresh. But god, you were so horny.

[2:06 AM] You: well maybe you should take a break?

[2:07 AM] You: *1 attachment*

Hongjoong picked up his phone, eyebrow raised as he wondered what it was you could’ve sent him. Maybe it was a funny video, some random meme you found whilst scrolling on twitter to cheer him up a bit.

Oh no, it definitely wasn’t that. It was far from anything he could’ve been thinking— perhaps even the last thing on his mind this late at night.

[2:07 AM] You:

Hongjoong felt his dick twitch in his pants as he stared at your wet legs. He imagined what your cunt would look like under all that water, begging for it to be touched— touched by him. He rubbed his clothed cock softly, feeling his bulge grow at your sudden message.

[2:11 AM] Captain 🖤: Bathing this late? 😳

You smiled, feeling your heart pound. You rarely took a moment to send anything this risqué to Hongjoong, but when you did it sure made your body heat up.

You got out of the bath, drying yourself off and wrapping yourself with a towel. Hongjoong waited eagerly for your response, unsure whether to expect another photo or just a plain response from you.

[2:15 AM] You: is it wrong for a girl to send a photo when her dear boyfriend is missed ?🙁

You looked in the mirror, fixing the bath towel just slightly for him to see enough of your chest, even if it was merely a shadow of cleavage. You held the phone out in front of you, snapping a quick picture and sending it him as you walked out of the bathroom and into your shared room to change.

[2:16 AM] You:

Hongjoong quickly clicked on your message, rolling his eyes playfully at the photo. He continued to rub his clothed cock softly, practically drooling at much you liked to tease him.

[2:18 AM] Captain🖤: Baby stop teasing me. Show me how pretty you are.

Your face flushed red as you thought about his cock and how badly you wished to feel it while he leaked all over your hands. You slipped on some casual lingerie for him, admiring yourself in the mirror before texting him back.

[2:20 AM] You: but what’s the fun in that :(

You stood there for a moment, biting your lip softly.

[2:20 AM] You: i wish i was there to see the look on your face Joongie.

Hongjoong sighed to himself, placing his phone down. He pulled his member out of his pants, rubbing the tip of his cock slowly. He threw his head back, stroking himself gently as he thought of your body. He wished he was home with you, feeling your curves as he thrusted himself into you.

[2:25 AM] Captain🖤: If you keep teasing me, you won’t get anything when I come home to you.

You giggled, holding your phone out in front of you to take a picture.

[2:28 AM] You: ay eye, captain 😉

[2:28 AM] You:

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as his strokes grew faster. His cock leaking onto his fingertips as his veins pulsated.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty.” he spoke to himself.

You stuck your hand into your underwear, running your fingers against your clit softly. You moaned softly, arching your back as your bud reacted to the sensation. You fastened your pace, thinking of his hands working your cunt as you laid there and submit to him.

You quickly pulled off your panties, pointing the phone to your sopping folds. You played with your slick, whimpering as it webbed around your fingers. You snapped a picture, sending it to Hongjoong immediately.

[2:35 AM] You: *1 Attachment*

[2:35 AM] You: i wish these were your hands :( feels so good

Hongjoong admired your soaked folds, how it glistened in the flash of your camera. He let out a loud groan, covering his cock with his pre cum as he imagine himself inside of you.

[2:37 AM] Captain 🖤: Look at my pretty girl.

[2:38 AM] Captain 🖤: Send a video for me, please baby.

You dug into your drawer, pulling something out from it. You laid back in bed, pressing it against your cunt softly. A soft hum came from you as you pushed it inside of you. You moved it slowly, imagining it was his cock inside of you as it hit your sweet spot.

You held your phone in front of your cunt, the flash capturing your slicked folds as the toy moved in and out of you. You moaned softly, making sure the video caught sound of you enjoying yourself just for him. You hit send, continuing to play with yourself as you ached to cum.

[2:45 AM] You: *2 Videos*

[2:46 AM] You: come home joongie, she misses you.

Hongjoong played the video, watching as you fucked yourself slowly. Your breathless moans and whispers were music to his ears, making him go haywire as he tried to keep his composure. His strokes grew faster, feeling all that built up pressure within his cock as he watched your swollen cunt cum all over the toy.

He couldn’t take it anymore and he was sure he’d regret it tomorrow, but he needed you. He gave up trying to resist it.

You phone buzzed next to you, the familiar ringtone letting you know it was your beloved boyfriend.

“Hi baby. How’s work?”

Your sweet succulent voice made his breath hitch as he heard the faint sound of your cunt being played with in the background.

“Cut the shit.” Hongjoong quickly put his member away, getting up from the desk as he saved his progress on the computer and turned it off.

“I’m coming home. Be ready for me when I get there.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the lust in his voice, making you stop what you were doing. Chills ran up your spine as you thought of what he could possibly do to you, especially after all the teasing you’ve done.

“You’re hearing me, right baby?”

Hongjoong packed up his things, his mind still racing with thoughts of you and your body, how much you missed and craved for his touch.

“Mhm. Loud and clear.”

A smug smile appeared on his face as he grabbed his keys, turning off the lights in the studio.

“Good. I have a lot to give for someone who likes to be a tease.”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: and that concludes our 14 days of kinks!! ty all sm for joining me on this little event of mine! ive added some extra days to the masterlist so def check those out if you’re interested! :3

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @rvereri @scarfac3 @jjongibears @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble @sojuxxi @bbykaixx @nopension @bbdeongi

★ if you were apart of the taglist for this event & would like to be added permanently, pls comment to let me know!

OR fill out the more detailed form here! :))

[reality-itself-but-magic]

Lost in a land not your own, with your memories of the past torn and smudged like paper left out in a storm, you clung to whatever memories you could salvage. When you woke up, you had three things: A brittle, broken sword, a map with a destination circled, and a simple written apology. You were found in the temple of one of the newer gods, one of those which hadn’t quite learnt to control their powers. There were reports of them making storms in deserts, warping life by accident, all sorts of bizarre occurrences. Bizarre almost like taking a stranger from their home and dropping them somewhere else.

But gods did as gods were, and seething over the mistakes of a child would not do any good to you. You set out to get to the circled destination, determined to find your way back home. Home to where there would be people waiting for you - maybe even people who worried after you.

You set sail with a company of honest folk, merchants and farmers looking to sell their wares across the seas. You didn’t want to trouble any of them, taking up instead a quite corner, where it was just you and the rocking waves.

You took out the sword you had landed with. It was broken, brittle, bad craftsmanship. You couldn’t remember where you learnt to tell how well made a sword was. Running your hands over the dull edge, you startled as you heard a voice from behind you.

“That looks awfully worn.” A stranger commented. “Want me to fix that up for you?”

You took them up on the offer, once they told you they used to be a blacksmith. Crows feet lined their eyes, but warmth still shone in them. They told you much more, as you spent the whole evening with them while they worked, partially to keep an eye on the sword, and partially because you yearned for conversation, a sympathetic other. When they were done, they handed you the sword, no longer as marred and battle-worn, but still without many virtues to extoll. Your hands closed around the leather of the hilt, and with a flash you knew something with certainty. You had loved this blade, once. This was a blade you knew as kindly as yourself. The blacksmith might have seen some of that, because they left you be for the evening, departing with an address and a firm order to drop by if you were ever near.

By the time the voyage over sea had ended, your spirits had grown low, and the map had faded for him many times you had unrolled it, pored over it, imagined yourself home with it. The next leg of your journey, you went to meet a woman who led travelers on trips to the mountain villages, whom the blacksmith had recommended you speak to.

She was kind, a bit sharp while she bargained, but kind, inviting you to stay in her house for the night, as the trip on horseback began the next day. As you followed her along hallways with framed portraits, floors dotted with children’s toys, you felt a sort of yearning, a nostalgia for a place you’d never been. The warm, lived-in home she kept was painfully familiar to you, but terribly out of reach.

By the next day, when lunchtime rolled around, the unpolished nature of your sword was irritating you. You picked up a round enough stone, with an expert eye, and spent your spare time polishing the blade. You remember… something. There is a great weight to this sword.

By the time she guides you to the village, your memories are lacing together. Your recollections multiply, you know this path, this stone, this plant. You know this place where you learnt the trade of forging, this place which is your home.

You break into a dead sprint as your heart pounds in you ears. The guide is left behind but somehow, you don’t think she’ll mind. Up ahead, tending to the garden, is a beautiful woman half-wearing armor, interrogating someone nearby. As she sees you, her face lights up.

“So you are here! Everyone seems awfully worried about you, and I was gone far longer than I meant to be, the bounty hunters guild is being stingy as always-” She was cut off by you barreling into her, hugging her as if you could merge into her so you would never be separated again. You step back, drawing the sword.

“I believe this is yours?” You ask, memories almost all reformed. You remember her - your beautiful, amazing wife, for whom you had forged this sword with your two hands, who probably didn’t even know you were missing if she was just now able to return from her adventuring - and you swear you’ll never forget her again.

@otherwindow I made it unsad ^^

A Dark Souls-like game where the lore for a weapon gets less vague the more you upgrade it. Broken Blade: A brittle sword. You can’t seem to let it go. Unpolished Blade: A cherished weapon from ages past. Polished Blade: You remember something. Bride’s Blade: Your wife’s sword.

[55sturn]

in which valentine’s day with matt doesn’t go as planned…

idk what inspired this LMFAO but if this idea has been done, i apologize [ i haven’t read any matt fics in so long ] but if you’d like inspo tags or creds of any sort, just send me a dm and i’ll tag you!

you knew. you absolutely knew that you shouldn’t have expected much more than a horny “u up?” text from matt on valentine’s day. after all you were two best friends that had a tendency to fuck every other week.

but the reoccurring sweet, albeit bare minimum, but somewhat romantic gestures from matt had fed you false hope. again and again. he always made promises of more, he was always calling you his special girl, or his number one girl, putting you before almost anything.

and you had secretly hoped that he had something planned, even if it was just softer, slower, and slightly more passionate sex. but you were let down. and it broke your heart a little bit more than you wanted to let on.

he had hinted at getting together for valentine’s day earlier in the week, giving you a vague time to be ready by, and that was more than enough for you to take the idea and run. you had always been a little naive, but this time, it seemed to reach a new level, especially as his replies from monday and today seemed to grow from slim to almost nonexistent. but still, you held onto that hope.

dinner time had finally come around, and you felt ridiculous, and honestly, a little helpless, waiting on a sign, any sign possible, that matt was thinking about you. but as you checked your phone for the millionth time, you were met with radio silence. the pathetic sting of being forgotten about started to roll in as you took in your appearance. you had done your makeup, put on a cute dress to hide the delicate blue lingerie set you had on underneath.

you felt tears start to sting the back of your eyes as you stood and made your way to your room, starting to break down all the work you put into looking pretty and delicate, only for the one man you wanted to pretend you didn’t exist. after your shower, not complete without you berating yourself and crying silently as the water fell down in a heavy a stream, and a post sob session nap, your phone finally pinged, waking you from your sleep.

matthew.sturniolo posted a new story!

upon clicking the notification, you were met with a blurry and almost impossible to figure out picture of matt with a film camera covering his face, and a girl tucked into his side. and you were forced to swallow a bitter pill.

matt had chosen another girl over you. he had picked someone else to spend the day with. the one day quite literally marketed to spending time with the ones you loved deeply, marketed to embracing all sorts of love and connections. and he didn’t pick you. he wasn’t beside you, teasing you about the way you blush every time he called you “his darling girl” and he wasn’t kissing you so hard that you felt like you couldn’t breathe. but rather, he was on the other side of the city, tangled up in someone else’s bed.

and he had the nerve to text you days later, making up some lame excuse that he had gotten over worked and busy filming videos ahead of time with his brothers to post while on tour. and you wanted to ignore the texts, letting him stare at the tiny, bolded “delivered” taunting him beneath each text he sent. but you couldn’t, not when his apologies seemed so genuine, sickeningly sweet, and so convincing, even when you knew the truth.

and you couldn’t help but fall back into his embrace, but it felt different this time. it was ruined by something a bit more solemn than usual, it was a sweet and comforting reunion, tainted by the bitter taste that lingered in your mouth every time he kissed you. and matt couldn’t ignore that you weren’t fully present, no matter how hard he tried. despite him initially only showing up to get in a quick nut, he still cared deeply for you, after all he was your friend, first and foremost.

you didn’t cave when he first asked, surprisingly, you stood your ground and acted as if you were unbothered, but you slowly started to crumble the softer and more desperate his voice grew. and as he pleaded during the final ask, with his eyes softening around the edges, and his hands cradling you so gently, as if you were made of glass, and sometimes you felt like you were with how sensitive you could be, you bared your soul. you told him how much him ignoring you on that stupid holiday made you feel, tears pricking your eyes as he scoffed.

he was quick to remind that he didn’t owe you anything romantic and domestic, especially not on a holiday meant to celebrate couples and love, when he didn’t love you, at least not the way you wanted him to. and he was quick to deflect his shitty behaviour and the way he left you hanging, waiting on him, by calling you naive, questioning how you could genuinely believe that he would do something like that. he was cold, mean, and so very cruel, blaming his own empty promises on your feelings and emotions. and he left without so much as another word upon seeing your hurt written all over your face, feeling far too guilty for playing with such a delicate heart, but he was damned if he’d ever admit that he hurt you.

he had too much pride in his soul to acknowledge that what he was doing was cruel, there was something so wrong that felt so right in having you wrapped around his finger, waiting on his every beck and call because you were too blindly in love with him to see he was only using you for something physical.

and once again, you were left feeling small and minuscule after he had broken your heart again, and you couldn’t fathom why he hurt you so much when he was meant to be your friend before and above anything else. and so you found yourself stuck in that same helpless and utterly pathetic cycle of waiting for him to return with his tail between his legs, spewing nothing but bullshit, with half-hearted apologies and promises of things you knew he’d never deliver, begging you to forgive him.

and you knew you would. because that was the difference between you and matt, you would forgive and believe anything to have him in your life, while he would lie to you just to get back into your bed.

[littelovelunette]

sevika x reader with a pussy-stretching kink, sevika uses inflatable dildos and keeps buying larger toys just see how much reader can take, meanwhile reader is tied up, drooling, crying and whimpering, from all the non-stop orgasms and the big toys being inside her, begging her to stop, but she just loves seeing how much they can take

Stretch For Me

Contains smut, mentions of tearing, bondage, pussy stretching, dildos, vibrator, cnc

Rain was pouring against the windows, the fat droplets pelting down on the hard glass of the window. it would've been relaxing had you not been in the predicament that yiu were in as of now.

Sweat was beading admist your furrowed brows, hands tied at your back with thicks ropes as you gasped for air through the ball gag in your mouth.

Sevika loved you like this, all spread out for her to use and abuse, bondage was one of the many things that got her going. well lets be real everything had her wet.

Red marks had formed all over your arms from the tight ropes holding you down. Your pussy was sore and aching from the several toys Sevika had used on you earlier.

"Mmmph..." You let out a tired, muffled groan through the gag, drool running down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"You've been doing so well, so far," Sevika traced her fingers over your bound thighs, smiling at the sight of your muffled moaning.

The vibrator taped down on your clit wasnt helping if anything it only worked to make you wetter.

It had been hours Sevika had been making you take big dildos in your pussy, the plug in your ass serving as a constant reminder that she hadn't forgotten about your other hole.

Sevika's fingers grabbed the behind of the gag, letting it fall undone so you could communicate with her properly. Smirking, Sevika pulled back, "Let daddy know how I'm making you feel yeah?"

Sevika came closer, bare muscular chest pressing against your face making you desperately lean in for even the slightest ounce of comfort.

sevika's tits, you took in a soft sniff, you loved having her so close to you especially her tits

"S-Sevika," you could only whimper and whine out her name as the silicone toy made it's way inside, a small tube attached to it along with a pump used to inflate it inside your pussy.

"I'm gonna break, it's gonna rip me," you whined out, legs straining against the ropes as Sevika put one hand on your lower stomach to feel the imprint of the dildo.

Sevika's hand was big on your stomach, big and warm providing a little bit of unspoken comfort.

Sevika's other hand, the mechanical one, continued pumping the dildo with air making it inflate further, "It's b-big," you cried out again.

She grabbed the end of the dildo and started thrusting it deep in your pussy making you whine and moan loudly, the vibrator adding more pleasure on your clit.

"C-can't cum again!" You complained but Sevika didn't let that stop her movements, if anything she got faster.

"You'll cum as many times as I say you will."

As Sevika made the dildo hit that one certain spot in you, your body jerked up in pleasure squirting all over the silicone surface of the dildo, Sevika continued fucking you through your release making your body tremble and shudder from the overstimulation, "D-daddy," you stuttered and moaned until eventually you passed out from the exhaustion.

when you woke up, the ties were gone and sevika was gently rubbing your stomach and butt, "you okay, my love?" she asked in a husky voice

"mhm," you responded and sevika let you lean against her for a while before tying you up again for round two

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts, feat. mingyu •

the valentine’s day / co-worker crush one

mingyu has sat in the cubicle next to yours long enough to know exactly how shitty your ex made valentine’s day last year, plus he knows you definitely haven’t even thought about a valentine’s date since you just accepted a stack of last minute work, because to quote you, “fuck this pretend holiday”

but he really hopes to change your mind

mingyu’s had a crush on you since you started working in his group, maybe before that even when he would just see you in the break room sometimes

at first he thought you were a bit unapproachable, but the longer he sat next to you, the more he realized you were a really good co-worker and friend - you always have great ideas for projects and you don’t make him feel like shit for not knowing every single thing like most people in the group, plus you’re always happy to grab coffee when he wants to complain about how something personal

he was glad when you had offered to exchange phone numbers so he could message you “just whenever” - it took him a week to finally decide what to send - a photo proving that he really uses the name ‘james’ as his ‘coffee order name’ because he was tired of the misspellings and you would not believe him - you had practically cackled at ‘james’

he was surprised when you asked if he had a date that night, “no, i haven’t really been talking to anyone” besides you, he thought

“at least you won’t be stuck here all night, though,” you smiled, leaning towards your computer to read something

he nodded, “yeah, true,” even as he spoke, he started to poke around seeing if there were any assignments he needed to complete (he knew there weren’t)

“wait, actually, sorry - there’s this part i kind of need help with,” you mumbled from your slouched over position

he blushed and scooched his chair over to your side of the barrier, you had already moved so he could see your screen - he was glad that you seemed to always have problems with excel functions

he started tinkering with the spreadsheet while you read some documents next to him - before he realized it, he was ready for dinner

he leaned back, “want to take a break?” it was a totally normal question

you nodded, “yes, please, I’m so tired of looking at this,” you whispered and then stood up to look around the office, “wow, it’s like a horror movie in here - absolutely everyone is gone but us”

he smiled knowing you mean zombie movies, which you proclaim to hate but still seem to know a lot about

“so what were you thinking?” you asked as you sit back down next to him - he notices when your knee bumps his leg

“hm, how bad do you think the waits are across the street?”

“oh fuck, i forgot, couples out in droves, right?”

he nods, watching you scrunch your face as you start checking for reservations close by - it takes a few minutes but you’re suddenly grabbing his sleeve, “oh my god, if we leave right now, we can just make it to a decent place,” you practically drag him along

the ‘decent’ place is actually really nice, way more than he was expecting, but he was glad for once that he was in dress clothes - he actually looked like he was your date

they seated you in one of the open booths, another couple were right next to you - he had started to look at the menu when you nudged him with your foot, he glanced up to see you covertly glance at the other couple - mingyu almost laughed when he saw the girl’s foot was practically buried in the guy’s crotch and moving at a concerning pace

he blushed slightly at the scene and glanced back to you, seeing the dangerous smirk on your face, he suddenly felt the toe of your shoe press gently to his calf - he was quick to slip a warning hand onto your thigh, squeezing gently

“i think we can do better darling,” he whispered

you looked too game, “oh, can we, sweetheart?”

he wasn’t sure what to make of your sugary voice, but he knew you were horribly competitive (both of you, if he were honest, could be a bit scary at company retreats)

he didn’t hesitate to nod, “of course we can,” he answered in a low tone, his thumb tracing circles against your thigh

when the waiter came back, you both ordered drinks, but he noticed quickly when the other couple conspicuously got up at the same time and wandered towards the bathroom

he sipped his wine, “did they really just go to the bathroom?”

you giggle, “they definitely did”

he swirled his glass gently, “okay, so if we go into the men’s room after them, do we just need to be louder?” he was genuinely asking

you laughed behind your hand, “seriously?” you grinned, “it’s not like we get a peleton this time,” you shoot back, voice soft in a way that makes his stomach flutter

“yeah, but,” he wasn’t sure where he was going with this, “they were annoying, why not be, you know,” he shrugged

“be more annoying, my darling, dearest,” you smiled and covered his hand with yours

he flushed but had a sudden thought, “look if we freak them out, i will literally pay for a full weekend at that glamping place you keep ogling,” he was very serious

“oh, okay, no wait, it has to be the one with the hot tub that overlooks the trees,” you were getting serious

he nodded, “i’ll give you my card, book whatever you want,” he was too sincere

he noticed the slight blush blooming across your cheeks, “you know it’s like a couples thing, right?”

“so, you can book for two and go alone, whatever,” in his mind this was completely reasonable to offer a co-worker who he clearly had just a crush on, especially when he hadn’t confessed

he watched you bite your lip lightly, “okay, but shouldn’t we both go? it’s like a group activity,” he flushed, knowing you’re looking at him much too clearly

“just come on or we’ll miss our chance,” he stood, glancing around and walking towards the bathroom

he pushed the door open and was immediately assaulted with sounds, really wet sounds

he caught you as you walked through the door, knowing you would laugh at the sounds, he pressed his hand across your lips and guided you to the stall next to the occupied one, locking the door

you glance at the stall wall, rolling your eyes at the sudden feminine cry of “oh, baby - yeah, just like that”

you lean close to him, “make it good, okay,” you whisper, your hands suddenly ghosting down his chest and stomach

he’s shocked when you ran your hands down the front of his trousers, “fuck, daddy, show me how hard you are,” you say in a breathy voice as your hands press roughly to his hips

he bit his lip hard to avoid laughing in total shock, “that what you want baby girl, my hard cock filling that tight pussy?” he asked, his voice lower than he expected, even though he was leaning down close, whispering against your throat, obviously in character

“mhmm, yes, i want you so badly - i’ve thought about it all day, daddy - i’ve just been sitting, waiting for you, all wet and ready for your cock”

he paused hearing this, his mouth immediately dry, he could feel your hand working him through his pants

he kissed your throat gently, “daddy’s good little girl, just waiting at her desk, hoping to get fucked,” he nipped your earlobe gently, “my naughty little girl,” he whispered as he bit your throat

he was momentarily stunned when you pulled your shirt down enough to expose your tits and your perfect nipples, but he didn’t even think before he dipped down, latching onto one and then the other, hearing your moans, as he licked and sucked “yes, daddy” - “yeah, just like that” - “fuck, i bet you could empty me”

he leaned up, catching your mouth in a soft kiss, he licked into you, tasting you as he pushed up your skirt, his cock was way too hard at the idea of your full tits

he slid his fingers under the hem of your panties, immediately feeling the slick waiting for him, “oh, baby, so wet for me,” he barely broke the kiss to murmur

he watched your face as he plunged his first two fingers inside your hot, wet pussy - you gasped softly, pulling his hair roughly as you did, “yes, daddy, play with me, you’ve kept me waiting so long,” you whimper as he crooked his fingers to hit the soft spongy spot he knew your ex had never been able to find

he had completely forgotten the other couple - all he cared about was the way you were writhing in pleasure in front of him - that and the way your cunt was clenching around him, it was so fucking tight and already dripping

he pressed close, “come for me baby girl, i can feel you holding back, just let go, make a mess for daddy to clean up,” he whispered

you pressed close, “give me one more finger first,” you breathed heavily against his skin

he was happy to slip his third finger in, stretching you and then scissoring you open too, pressing against your tight walls

you moaned loudly, “oh, fuck, yes - daddy, don’t stop, make me feel good”

he wasn’t worried about how loud you were - it was part of the point, but when your pussy suddenly gushed, “fuck,” he breathed, feeling your juices wet his thigh

he held you close as he he still worked his fingers inside your pussy, you yelped as a second orgasm tore through you, a new splash of hot pussy juices running down his thigh as you shivered with pleasure in his arms, grasping blindly for him, needing him to hold you as your orgasm worked through you

“mhmm, daddy, oh, fuck, did i do good?”

he was quick, “yeah, baby, you’re so perfect, so messy and wet for me,” he pressed soft kisses to your cheek, nuzzling close to you

it was obvious that you were more fucked out than either of you expected - he definitely didn’t hear anything from the couple in the other stall, but he wasn’t especially concerned either

he suddenly turned you around, pulling your back to his chest, as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, “still want daddy’s cock, baby girl?”

you nod, “yes, please, use me like a toy, make me yours”

he breathed slowly, lining his cock up with your cunt, he needed to control himself or he would come too fast

he plunged in, pausing to breathe, to feel your slick cunt stretching so wide to take all of him - he listened to your whimpers and soft pleas as you adjusted to being full

but he waited to move - and when he did, he was slow at first, feeling every bit of you squeezing him, wanting him

and when you leaned back, “fuck me daddy, fuck me like you want”

the way you gazed up at him told him everything - that you knew - you already knew exactly how he felt

and so he plunged in, setting a quick pace, not being afraid to snap his hips - he wanted to fuck you raw

and when he felt you clenching and fluttering around him, he pulled you close, holding you tight, and reaching down to work your clit, he gasped at the feeling of your third orgasm, the feeling of your slick against the head of his cock was too much

he came, he clenched his teeth together tightly, moaning low against your skin, his cum filling you, he kept moving, slowly fucking his cum deeper into you

“keep it inside baby,” he demanded, breathless, finally letting you go

you nod with a little smile, “what do i get if i do?”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, and fixed his pants

he helped you fix your clothes, glancing to see how massive your pupils were

he stopped and nuzzled close, feeling nothing but tenderness for you, “want to leave?”

you nodded, holding tight to his lapels, “can we still fuck though?”

he smiled, “mmmh, of course we can baby - we can fuck all you want,” he kissed you softly - he meant every word

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨

a/n: happy v day - if you’re not getting fucked tonight, just think of mingyu ^^ we all know he would do it right …every time

♡ kat

tags: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[crimsoncandy04]

Have u ever thought of Scara w tentacles😳 like he was an experiment and we are the one in charged of cater for him, then one day he escape and take us with him to breed cause' he really likes us... Idk if it's possible but might lay eggs for him. Please try writing it one day!! Tysm for those fics u feed uso(≧▽≦)o

I should really check my inbox more often than I do. This is literally such a hot idea.

(also just a heads up, I'm absolutely blasted right now while writing this so if it's not perfect I'm so sorry. Cannabis gummies are a double edged sword for me. On one hand I get the BEST ideas to write but then on the other I forget how words work)

Hope you like it;)

You had seen some weird stuff in your 25 years. It was expected though. You WERE working for the fatui and under one of the more deranged harbingers known for fucked up experimentation too.

However, being put in charge of one of the less important projects involving the sixth harbinger had proven to be more than you were prepared to handle.

A LOT more.

You had no idea why he allowed this to happen or if it was just a bizarre side effect of another failed experiment. But one thing was for certain, the sixth harbinger had been altered physical and now needed to be restrained at all costs. He had actual tentacles growing from his back. Like REAL ones. And for some reason they seemed to have minds of their own at times.

Thrashing around and hitting the thick glass of the containment room as if trying to break out while the young man at their base sat on the cold concrete ground and refused to look at you each time you went over to slide him food through a small opening in the wall that your hand could barely fit through.

You weren't important enough to know the details of what went on in your boss's lab but you had to admit that the sentient tendrils were a bit pretty to look at.

They were a deep indigo. Almost black with small barely discernable silver accents along the sides.

They appeared almost metallic in the right lighting and you had to make yourself look away and stop staring sometimes because you didn't want to be rude.

You were here to complete a job and that was all.

Until the night everything went to shit of course.

You were summoned sometime after midnight along with two other subordinates to check the lab for accidents after a security alarm was triggered for unknown reasons.

You rushed in and immediately you felt your blood go cold at the sight before you.

He had escaped.

Shattered glass lay at your feet as well as blood presumably from the guard who was now nowhere to be seen and most certainly dead.

You heard a yell from the room next to you.

"Stay here!" The other man with you insisted as he drew his gun and took off after the source of the cry.

You didn't need to be told twice.

Because right now you were confused but also rightfully scared.

What happened to the sixth harbinger? He never once gave you reason to believe he was distressed or restless before. He never even spoke to you when you fed him and checked the condition of his holding room.

Did you perhaps miss something?

What caused him to suddenly lash out and attack the guard?

And most importantly what happened to-

*PLOP*

You hear something hit the ground next to you and slowly turn your head to look.

You shriek.

On the ground next to you was the decapitated head of the subordinate who had just left to search for the other man.

You immediately tried to run but were stopped in your tracks as something wrapped around your waist and hoisted you into the air.

You tremble and go silent. Preparing for the worst when you look down and meet eyes with the sixth harbinger.

One of his many new appendages coiled around your middle and rendering you helpless as you silently prayed to every archon you could remember that if you were to die here it would be quick and painless.

He narrows his eyes up at you.

"You. You didn't want to try killing me as well?"

You struggle to answer as you shake violently.

"No sir. I see you nearly every day. I assumed something was wrong and that you were seeking help. I didn't feel like it was right to murder you."

"Are you scared?"

You felt your heart race.

Something about his tone seemed off. Different.

Did he...enjoy the fact that you were clearly terrified?

You closed your eyes and sighed.

Alright.

Every life had its end. This was surely yours.

Don't think about it. Go to your safe place Y/N.

You suddenly feel more tentacles slither around your arms and legs.

You immediately open your eyes as you feel them spread your knees apart.

What the FUCK!?

There's a chuckle from underneath you.

"I must admit... I am enjoying your terror immensely."

Obviously.

You feel an indigo tendril slowly slide up your shirt and wiggle underneath your bra. coiling around one of your breasts and squeezing it roughly as you feel your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. It was cold and slimy but thanks to what you assumed was the natural power of the young man before you, the tentacles emitted a gentle electro current throughout their entire lengths and the sensation caused the muscles in your limbs and stomach to relax unwillingly as you were fondled.

The entire stimulation was now sending jolts of unwilling arousal through you. Scaramouche's eyes darken as he feels your nipple stiffen against one of his slick, muscular coils which had wrapped itself tightly around one of your tits and was now rubbing its head against your delicate peak. Making you struggle to stay quiet.

"Your body is betraying you. How does it feel existing in such a delicate and worthless form? I'm not even trying yet-."

Another tendril snakes up your thigh, sliding beneath your skirt, the cool slickness a shock against your bare skin as you didn't expect this so quickly. It inches higher, brushing against your clothed sex.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly at your soft whimpers then, his voice a sinful caress in your aroused mind as you're made to enjoy this against your will.

"I can still feel you with these. You're so wet already. Does it feel good being teased in such a disgraceful manner? Or were you always this much of a slut?"

He grins wickedly, a predatory gleam in his indigo eyes. The tendrils tighten their grip, squeezing and kneading your most sensitive places, stoking the fire within your core. The air crackles with his power and reeks of your excitement.

A small tentacle hooks into the waistband of your panties and suddenly rips them off completely, baring your glistening sex to the cool air. Another one quickly begins to rub against your slick folds, teasing your wet entrance.

"What a cute little hole~ hmm. I wonder what would happen if I-"

The thick tentacle at your entrance instantly rams itself inside in one painful push, stretching your tight pussy and curling in to rub against your sweet spot as it began to thrust quickly. You could only gasp and cry out as you felt another tentacle slither up your thigh and rub your clit at the same time.

Your eyes widened.

It hurt yet it felt like you had ascended to Celestia all at once.

You force yourself to cry out before you went insane.

"S-Scara! Please! It's too big! You're... stretching me!"

Scaramouche smirks up at your quivering body as he feels your tight walls clenching desperately around his invading tendril. He grinds it deeper, relishing your breathy moans and gasps, the electric current making your body shudder with every caress and thrust.

"Too big? Ha. Your greedy little cunt is taking every inch like it was made for it. Like it was made for me."

He pulls back slightly, then slams the tentacle in deeper. The wet squelching sounds of the violation fill the room, mingling with your increasingly wanton moans and whimpers.

"Listen to yourself, enjoying the feeling of being so ruthlessly defiled. You can't deny your true nature Y/N. You're a weak and disposable creature. I've seen how you go out of your way to try and care about me. How you act so..."selfless" and "considerate" when forced to tend to me knowing damn well it was all only to delude yourself into believing you were making a difference. Tell me, was it tiring?"

Tendrils squeeze your breasts harder, the electric shocks making your nipples stiffen into aching peaks. Another then pushes into your mouth, silencing your cries and leaving you gasping around the slick intrusion.

"It must have been exhausting. Pretending like you actually cared so much. Did you enjoy your little charade? Was it nice pretending like you weren't worth less than the dirt on my shoes because you were "helping "?"

Scaramouche's voice is a dark, lustful growl as he crosses his arms and continues to watch as his tentacles ruin you. The tendril pistoning into your cunt speeds up, the electric shocks growing stronger, pushing you closer and closer to a reluctant release.

"Come for me, Y/N. Come on my tentacles like the wanton slut you are. You wanted something like this right? To be seen and "loved"? Well let go then."

As Scara speaks, another tentacle snakes down to your puckered rear entrance. It teases the tight ring of muscle, the electric current making it relax. Slowly it pushes inside, stretching your virgin hole around the slick invader.

"Such a tight little asshole... I will enjoy breaking this in as well. You'll be my perfect little fuck toy, ready and eager for me at all times. How does that sound?"

The tentacle in your mouth begins fucking deeper into your throat, making you gag and choke a little. The one in your ass pushes deeper, stretching you impossibly further now as everything borders on pleasure and pain now in an overwhelming way.

"That's it, just like that. Take it all. Take every inch, every inch of my desire. You'll learn to crave this, to need this, to be nothing but a set of holes for me to fill and use. I'll give you a purpose. A reason to exist. Just like you always wanted."

Scaramouche's eyes blaze with sadistic lust as he watches you try to writhe and struggle, your body shaking with unwanted pleasure, your mind clouding with shame and need. He knows he has you now, knows that he can shape you, mold you, ruin you for all others.

And it's driving him insane.

You had caught his attention long ago but of course you were too stupid to notice. You always thought his tentacles were just being "aggressive". No. He had been trying to get you to say something to him. But every time you just stared at him, gave him a stupid little tray of food that he didn't even need. And then just left.

You couldn't blame him for getting a little frustrated and impatient. You had practically forced him to make the first move here.

A couple of minutes went by and suddenly you feel something else being stuffed into your stretched cunt alongside the enormous tentacle already buried inside.

Two smaller and practically microscopic sized tentacles wiggle in and begin to tease your cervix opening. Slowly coaxing their way into your womb as you feel yourself climaxing from the intrusion.

The tentacles writhe and squirm in your womb, painting your inner walls with their slick, tingling essence.

You suddenly feel a deep pressure as something is pumped directly into your womb. You wince and cum again as Scara begins to forcibly impregnates you with his offspring yet instead of your earlier nervousness or shame, you now feel oddly at ease. As if your new reality finally set in for you.

It was kinda enjoyable.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly as he feels your womb trying instinctively to reject his eggs. But the tendrils hold fast, forcing the small yet soft jelly-like lavender eggs deeper, stretching your most intimate space to its limits.

You had finally accepted your place it seemed. Utilizing your body's full potential from here would be far more easy with you now more willing to endure the process and transformation.

The tendrils continue their relentless assault, pumping more and more of the eggs into you, each one a cruel mockery of a seed, a promise of the countless times he will fill you after this as well. You had one purpose now. To be used, bred like a bitch in heat. All for the singular goal of birthing a new army for Scaramouche and his future plans.

You were important for this reason alone.

"Welcome to your new life, mortal. Welcome to eternity as my personal fuck toy, my breeding bitch, my eternal plaything. And you will love every moment of it. I promise."

A few hours pass and your belly swells quickly. During this short incubation period Scara manages to stretch your holes even further almost to the point of beyond recognition. Three tentacles now thrusted in and out of your ruined asshole and Scara had decided to reposition you both to keep an eye on you and to jam another thick tentacle deep into your pussy and continue to ravage it while he silently marveled at your swollen belly from where he now stood over you.

His hands roam possessively over the stretched skin of your stomach. He can feel the eggs he's planted inside you, each one a testament to his dark triumph, a promise of the future that he envisioned where he was untouchable by absolutely anyone. God or human alike.

"Look at you, already so round and full. And this is only the beginning, my dear. I will fill you again and again, until you know nothing but the feeling of carrying my offspring."

He leans down, his lips brushing against the taut skin of your stomach, his voice a dark, mocking murmur.

"Such an easy bitch to breed, so quick to take my eggs, to let them take root inside you. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be my incubator, my vessel. And now, here you are, already looking like a proper mother~"

The tentacles continue their relentless assault, stretching you impossibly further, The one now sucking on your clit pulses in time with your racing heartbeat, pushing you to yet another orgasm.

More tendrils move to your heavy, aching breasts again, squeezing and kneading the swollen flesh. They latch onto your nipples, suckling greedily, the electric currents making milk drip faster as it's quickly consumed.

More time goes by. You aren't sure how much exactly but then.

You feel movement in your belly and an uncomfortable shift as the eggs begin to hatch within you. The tentacles in your pussy immediately slide free and smaller ones seize your battered lips before rudely pulling on them to reveal your now loose and sloppy canal in its entirety.

Within seconds a small writhing indigo tentacle pushes its way out of your cervix and begins its descent.

Scaramouche's eyes widen with a fevered, manic light as he watches the first of his offspring emerge and fall to the floor with a small thud. He leans in closer, his breath coming faster as he watches the next little and writhing indigo tentacle push its way out, covered in fluids and its own natural secretions, a grotesque parody of a newborn.

"Look at that... your womb was actually able to grow these things without issue, your body has given life to my creation. I knew I made no mistake when I chose you for this."

The tentacles in your ass begins to writhe and pulse at that moment, easily pulling free from your body to make room for more of the "children " to emerge. Within seconds they start slipping out of your abused holes like nightmarish serpents and forming a horrific pile beneath your deflated body. Their movements are jerky and erratic, their beautiful flesh glistening in the dim light as they slowly start to slither up your legs in search of the warmth they once knew moments ago.

"Such a good mother, so efficient in your purpose. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant for this. And now, look at you... a true incubator, an ideal vessel for what is to come."

Scaramouche reaches down, his fingers brushing against the writhing mass of tentacles, stroking them like a proud parent would a newborn. They pulse and twitch at his touch, as if recognizing their creator, their master.

"They will be the first of many, the vanguard of a new age, a new era of power and dominance."

Your belly continues to churn from inside, more of the eggs hatching, more of the small tentacle creatures slipping out to join their brethren. The floor quickly fills with their jerking, twisting forms, a nightmarish scene.

Scaramouche's maniacal laughter then rings out, echoing off the walls, a sound of pure, unhinged joy at his dark triumph. He knows that he has won. Because with this plan now in action, no one would be able to oppose him for long.

And the world would be his for the taking.

[navybrat817]

Happy valentines day in advance my dear Navy😘

I saw these dark prompts you shared

“It makes my blood boil every time I see you talking to him/her/them.”

“Go ahead, lock your doors, change your phone number. I’ll still find you.”

“I would never ever hurt you.”

And I thought they would go amazingly with our favorite sheriff Lee Bodecker OR with Boxer!Curtis Everett👀 I hope this inspires something ✨❤️

My beautiful Carrot! Someone else asked for Lee and “Go ahead, lock your doors, change your phone number. I’ll still find you.”, so I went with Curtis. Hope you like it!

Cold as Ice

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Boxer!Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Summary: The newest boxer at the gym sets his sights on you.

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Possessive and overbearing behavior, dark vibes, talk of violence (not against reader), Curtis Everett (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You tapped your finger against the keyboard as you looked over the schedule. You needed a vacation, and you luckily had some time, and a bit of money saved up. It was just a matter of how soon you could take it because you needed the break. Somewhere warm, and far away.

It wasn't that you didn't want to be at the gym. You really loved working there. It had its perks like free workouts and being close to some of your favorite spots. But it was getting to be more and more stressful going into work each day. All thanks to Curtis Everett.

The boxer with a mean right hook, buzzed hair and a beard as dark as coal, and eyes as cold as ice. For whatever reason set his sights on you the second he joined the gym. Maybe because you smiled at him. You really didn’t know. But it didn't take long for his workout schedule to conveniently match the days you were working. If he had a question or issue, you were the only one who could help him. Even if you were busy helping someone else, he’d wait. Your boss didn’t seem to care when you made a comment in passing one day since he was a “customer” and it was expected of you to provide the best service.

Curtis seemed to always be where you were, too, which wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't so imposing. If you were in a certain area, cleaning machines or setting anything up, he was suddenly there like a shadow casting darkness over you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe with him so close. He even left when you did some nights, keeping only a small distance while you went to your car and not walking on until you got in safely. You always locked the door quickly just to be on the safe side.

Some days he didn't say much to you. Just grunted or stared, or glared at anyone who spoke to you. The last guy who tried to flirt with you ended up with a broken jaw when Curtis offered to do a practice round with him. And while the guy was on the ground in pain, Curtis looked over at you. The expression “blood ran cold” was a real thing because you immediately trembled under his gaze.

It was just getting to be too much.

“Have a good night,” Steve said when he walked by.

You looked away from the computer and nodded. Steve Rogers was one of the best boxers around, and one of the kindest. He was also good looking. The entire package. “You, too, Steve.”

He stopped, his brows pinching when he took in your expression. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. “Steve was a good guy. If you said someone was bothering you, he would've stepped in and helped. You couldn't ask that of him. This was your problem to deal with. “Thanks.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” he said, flashing that kind smile of his.

“I appreciate it,” you smiled back. Your shoulders slumped when he walked out. He was one of the last guys to leave. Oh, god. That meant the only person left was-

“It makes my blood boil every time I see you talking to him.”

The bass of Curtis’s voice made you jump. You hated how easily he scared you. “Curtis, you shouldn’t be behind the counter,” you chastised, closing out the schedule.

“And you shouldn’t be flirting with Rogers, but here we are,” he said, gripping your shoulder and spinning you around to face him. His nostrils flared as he towered over you, and you feared he might strike you. Your eyes rounded at the thought, your back hitting the counter when you backed up. “Were you smiling that sweet smile that should only be for me?”

“I-I wasn’t,” you promised, shaking when he brought a calloused hand to your cheek. He wouldn’t try anything, right? Not out there in the open. And it wasn’t like the security cameras would catch anything. Your boss said they went out recently and he had to get them fixed. “Curtis, please.”

“You think I’m going to hurt you?” The ice in his eyes melted only a little as he closed the distance, his lips ghosting yours. “I would never, ever hurt you.”

You trembled, wanting so badly to believe him. “What do you want from me?” you asked, hating how small your voice sounded.

“I want you to finish up work and tell me where you’re planning to go on your trip,” he answered, chuckling at your expression. “You think I didn’t know? Of course I knew. And I’m going with you.”

He might as well have punched you with how winded you suddenly felt. “Go with me? But-”

“And Rogers might not go down as easily as that other prick, but I’ll wreck him if I catch you flirting with him again and I’ll give him a lot worse than a broken jaw. That’s a promise,” he said, brushing his nose against yours before he pulled away. You had to reach behind you and grab the counter to keep from falling. “Let’s go. We need to figure out the details for our trip.”

Tears blurred your vision. “Curtis-”

“Just nowhere cold,” he interrupted, his icy blue eyes on you like always. “I hate the cold.”

Love and thanks for participating! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[butterflyscribbles]

Wachowski Family HC List

Part 1: The Wachowski Origins

Buckle up bc I’m going way back straight out of the gate….the Wachowski family wouldn’t exist without two certain soulmates coming together after all.

- Let’s start from the very beginning….Tom and Maddie have at least known each other since grade school. In high school, they were part of the same friend group but Maddie had been dating someone else at the time. Tom had girlfriends “come and go” as his mom put it, but was single most of senior year.

- Tom was already en route to becoming a sheriff, having it run in the family and with his other two “lunatic” brothers on their way in to very different directions, he was on the way to being the lone and youngest Wachowski left to “defend Green Hills” once his dad retired. I lowkey feel like it’s actually something he never really wanted to do. It was more of a family obligation. However, he did like helping people (and he didn’t want to go to college) that was really the biggest draw for him lol.

- Maddie was the resident biology and animal nerd in her class. Her dad was a park ranger that worked closely with Tom’s dad at the sheriff’s office, especially for hunting/fishing license issues and animal control type calls. Watching her dad work was where she developed a love for nature and decided she wanted to be a vet.

- It wasn’t until one night senior year at a house party, Maddie’s boyfriend at the time dumped her just before prom. Tom, being a close friend and the upstanding “punch first, questions later” kind of guy we know he is, started a fight with the jerk that broke her heart. He skeedaddled with her from the party before Tom’s dad showed up to break everything up. ✨That was spark #1✨ They continued talking and hanging out more after that (it was also since then Rachel has been giving Tom the side eye).

- High school graduation came and went, Maddie went off to college and Tom stayed in Green hills and started training to become a deputy. He and Maddie kept in touch even when she was off studying. When she came back into town to visit her family, they would hang out and catch up.

- Tom’s dad passed away not long after he graduated and things were a bit rough for Tom at this point. His oldest brother didn’t even show up to the funeral and his other brother didn’t help much with the process. Maddie was a beacon of light in this darker point of his life.

- One weekend while he’s out driving with her during this time, they come across a fawn by the side of the road that (very clearly) lost its mom. Tom was an emotional wreck, not wanting to leave it behind. Maddie calmly helped scoop it up in some spare blankets in the back of his car and they took it to her dad so he could find the proper wildlife rehabilitator to send it to. ✨That was spark #2✨ They started dating the next day.

- Skip ahead a bit, they’re big in love. They move into a small condo type deal together once Maddie graduates college and starts veterinary school. Tom is working his three jobs to help her pay tuition: as a police officer, part time at a local sewing shop his mom used to work at, and taking odd jobs around town mowing, doing car repairs, landscaping work. He’s exhausted, she’s exhausted, but they love each other sm….they’re married 2 years later after he proposes on a camping trip (guess who was already on Earth and witnessed the proposal but was too young to even know what it meant at the time).

- Jump again, they buy their house after Maddie has been working as a full time vet for a while and Tom is promoted to sheriff.

- Maddie’s parents are both still alive and together though her dad is retired. Her mom wrote for the Green Hills newspaper for a good while on top of taking care of her and Rachel. Tom’s mom is also still kicking. She left her job at the locally owned sewing store when Tom’s dad passed and mostly just makes her living selling crafts and vegetables from her garden at the local farmers market while also giving local children sewing lessons. Tom is doing most of the supporting for her while getting some help from his one older brother who actually got his life together a bit and got a job in insurance. He moved back to Montana, but not to Green Hills. Tom hasn’t heard from his eldest brother in over a decade.

- They’ve been living in their house for about 8 years before the events of Sonic 1. They’re “too busy for kids” but they adopt Ozzy from a litter that was dropped off where Maddie works.

- Then we all know what happens next…

[httpsdana]

I saw that ur doing a fake-dating trope for pau but i think it would work so well for alejandro too 😭😭 maybe him and the read r both in la masia and he wants to get his family to stop pestering him about his partying habits so he convinces the reader to go along with it

Too Real~Alejandro Balde

・❥・prompt list

・❥・ masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who i write for

・❥・a/n: this will be my last post till the middle of march when i finish my finals 🫶🏻

“Fake date? Really?” y/n almost rolled her eyes at Alejandro’s words.

“Please. I just need my parents to get off my back for a while. They think all I do is go to parties and hang out with random girls,” he said.

y/n gave him a pointed look. “But that’s what you’re doing,”

He let out a sigh, his hands flopping by his sides. Then he looked down at her, his eyes pleading.

“Just one dinner. I promise it wouldn’t be bad. I really need you to do this to me,” he said, not breaking eye contact. The intensity of his gaze made her look away.

“And what do I get from all this?” she raised her eyebrows, making his face light up with hope.

“Anything you want,” he said with a smile.

“Can we get ice cream after that dinner,” she said, making him chuckle with an amused smile.

“I just gave you the chance to ask for whatever you want and you want ice cream?” he didn’t hide his amusement, his eyes looking softly at her.

Her cheeks flushed from the look of his eyes, trying to bite back a smile.

“Well yes, what did you expect?” she said

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but not this”

“Well I’m a simple girl who loves ice cream” she responded

“Which is why I chose you for this . My parents will love you,” he replied, reminding her about their main topic here.

“right…” she murmured, kind of regretting her decision but there was no turning back now.

“Don’t worry, preciosa. If you feel uncomfortable, we can leave as soon as we get there,” he suggested, making her nod.

Maybe this fake date can make him notice the crush she has had on him for so long now.

y/n let out a sigh as she glanced at herself in the mirror one last time. She made sure to look as good as possible, without making it seem that she’s trying too hard. A mid-length black dress that showed just enough skin, with thin straps and matching heels. Fixing her lipstick one last time, she took a deep breath as her phone rang on the nightstand.

Alejandro’s name appeared, making her heart skip a beat as she hit accept quickly.

“Hello?” she said nervously, her voice shaky.

“Hola preciosa, I’m almost at your house. Are you done, or do you need more time?” he asked.

“uh…No I'm finished,” she mumbled, not trusting her voice much.

“Don't be nervous. I’ll be by your side all evening,” His voice broke the silence. She didn’t know why but the softness in his words made her nerves ease a bit.

They hung up as Alejandro arrived, while she sprayed her perfume and got her purse, rushing down to open the door.

Alejandro stood there, wearing a full black suit with a bouquet of red roses. His eyes raked her body, taking in every detail of her before looking at her face.

She never felt more thankful that her makeup wouldn't show how flushed her face felt

“Hola hermosa,” he said, his voice charming like always.

“hey,” she murmured, suddenly finding more interest in the heels she was wearing

“These are for you,” he handed her the roses, watching how her face twisted in confusion.

“that's the least I could do for you,” he shrugged. “and my mom would kill me if she found out i picked up my ‘girlfriend’ without bringing her her favorite flowers”

She had so many questions. So many that the only one she managed to ask was, “how did you know I love roses?”

Alejandro grinned proudly, his smile wide.

“oh i remember you mentioned it before at one of the team dinners back in the day,” he said so casually.

Her heart leaped in her chest at his little confession. He remembered that?

“Come on gorgeous, we can't keep them waiting for too long,” he snapped her out of her thoughts.

She quickly placed the roses in some water and followed Alejandro to his car.

The drive to the restaurant was silent. She was too anxious to say a thing, to the point where Alejandro thought he had done something to upset her.

As they reached their destination, Alejandro got out of his seat and to her side of the door, opening it for her and helping her out of the car.

“You look breathtaking,” he whispered in her ear, before reaching down and intertwining their fingers. Her face burned from the compliment and all she could do was give him a small smile.

“take a deep breath. you'll be fine,” he mumbled, pressing a small kiss on her hair and starting to make their way inside, his hand never leaving hers.

The waiter led them to their table, where his parents and brother were sitting.

Alejandro watched her hesitation as she looked at his family. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before speaking

“This is y/n. My girlfriend,” he introduced. She gave them a soft smile reaching over to shake his mom’s hand at first, giving her the two traditional cheek kisses.

“When Ale told me you were beautiful I didn’t imagine you this gorgeous,” his mom said. And before she had the chance to look at Alejandro he cleared his throat.

“Let’s sit down shall we?” He moved a chair for her, helping her sit down before settling next to her.

“So tell us y/n, how did you and Alejandro meet?” his dad asked before sipping out of his glass of wine.

“Oh we were at La Masia together,” she answered politely

“You’re a football player too? How interesting,” his brother looked impressed, making her blush slightly.

“Yeah I’m still at Barca, not a starter like this one here though,” she nudged Alejandro with her shoulder, making him chuckle.

“You’ll get your chance, preciosa,” he murmured, making her smile softly at his words.

Dinner was surprisingly easy. Alejandro’s family was warm and welcoming, and y/n found herself enjoying their company more than she expected.

His mother was kind, always asking about her family. His father was a bit more reserved, but his questions were thoughtful.

And his brother? His brother was just like him; making jokes that had her laughing despite her nerves.

But what made the evening feel different, special, was Alejandro himself.

From the moment they sat down, he was all over her in ways that were subtle yet impossible to ignore.

His hand rested on the back of her chair as he played with some strands of her hair, his fingers brushing against her neck.

Then his fingers brushed over hers when she reached for the menu. And as the dinner continued, he grew bolder.

His hand casually found her thigh under the table, his thumb stroking lazy circles against her skin.

And the kisses.

They were brief, soft. Just enough to make her heart race.

A quick peck on her temple when his mom complimented how beautiful she was. A soft kiss to her shoulder as he whispered something low in her ear, his lips barely brushing her skin.

And the one that almost made her melt was the gentle kiss on her knuckles when his father asked about her football career, his dark eyes locking with hers in a way that felt far too real.

y/n knew they were supposed to be ‘pretending’, but Alejandro was making it so difficult.

“So, y/n,” his mother spoke up, pulling her out of her train of thoughts, “Ale told me you like to draw too. That must be exciting.”

y/n nodded, suddenly aware of Alejandro’s fingers still tracing patterns on her thigh. “Yeah, I draw in my free time. Haven’t had him model for me yet ” she nudged him playfully.

Alejandro smirked, tilting his head. “Maybe soon princesa.”

The way he said it so gently made her heart flutter.

His mom grinned at them. “I just love how supportive you are of each other. It’s beautiful.”

Alejandro’s grip on her hand tightened, and without hesitation, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to her fingers. “She’s easy to support,” he murmured. “She’s amazing.”

She swore she stopped breathing at his tone.

The rest of dinner was a blur. Between Alejandro’s lingering touches, his soft kisses, the way he constantly leaned in just to whisper in her ear, it felt like the most intimate date she had ever been on.

And the worst part?

She didn’t want it to end.

After dinner, Alejandro kept his promise. Ice cream. Just the two of them.

The little shop was quiet, the neon sign lighting over them as they leaned against his car, their cones in hand.

She was about to take a bite when Alejandro’s thumb brushed the corner of her lips.

“You had some right here,” he murmured, his touch lingering a second too long. He raised his thumb between his lips, licking the ice cream of his fingers.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she froze for a moment.

God, this didn’t feel fake at all.

Alejandro exhaled deeply, setting his ice cream down on the hood of his car. “y/n,” he started, his voice softer now, more serious.

She turned to look at him, heart pounding. “Yeah?”

He ran a hand over his hair, his eyes flickering between her lips and her eyes. “I need to tell you something.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly terrified of what he was about to say.

“I know I asked you to do this because of my parents,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I chose you for a reason.”

Her brows furrowed at his confession. “What do you mean?”

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek. “I could’ve asked anyone, preciosa. But I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted you.”

Her heart stopped for a second.

“Alejandro…” he started, but he interrupted her by tracing her jawline with his thumb, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

“I’ve liked you for a long time. I just…I didn’t know how to say it. And when I saw you tonight, when we were with my family… it didn’t feel fake. Not for a second.”

She forgot how to breathe at the intimacy of his voice.

And before she could process what was happening, Alejandro leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. It wasn’t forced. It was gentle, full of everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

And when he pulled away, he couldn’t help but grin.

“I want this to be real.”

She smiled softly, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. “Then let’s make it real.”

Alejandro beamed at her, capturing her lips again in a kiss that tasted like vanilla ice cream and something else; something sweeter.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[nishikio]

A Quiet Night In

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟPairing: bf!riki x female!reader

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟGenre: fluff , established relationship , suggestive?

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟWarnings: none

note:hiii this is my first time publishing an imagine so I hope whoever reads this enjoys ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

──── ୨୧ ────

Y/n and riki had spent the day running around with busy schedules, but tonight, they decided to unwind and bake together. It was a small moment of peace, and they had both been looking forward to it all day. The kitchen smelled of vanilla and butter as y/n carefully measured out the ingredients, while riki hovered near her, arms crossed.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” riki teased, his voice light but filled with mischief. He leaned against the counter, eyes tracing the movements of her hands as she mixed the flour.

“I’m good,” y/n replied, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “But you can keep me company while I work.”

riki grinned, taking a step closer. “I like the sound of that.”

As she cracked an egg into the bowl, a little bit of shell fell into the mix. y/n frowned, reaching for the spoon to remove it. But before she could, riki was there, his hand brushing against hers as he plucked the tiny shell out with ease.

“You’re too focused,” he whispered, his voice low as he stepped closer, his lips brushing against her ear. “You need a break.”

y/n turned her head slightly, her gaze catching his. “A break from baking or from you?”

He chuckled, his breath warm against her neck. “Both.”

Without warning, he gently placed his hand on her lower back, pulling her just a bit closer. y/n felt the heat of his body press against hers, and for a second, she froze, feeling the tension in the air shift. He was standing so close, and she could feel the subtle brush of his fingers against her skin.

“You’re distracting me,” y/n murmured, trying to keep her composure, but her voice gave away the hint of fluster.

riki’s smirk grew, his hands slowly trailing up her sides, sending electric tingles through her. “I thought that was the idea,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. “You’re so focused… it’s cute.”

y/n tried to focus on the bowl in front of her, but her mind was slipping, her body reacting to the closeness of his touch. Her hands fumbled slightly as she tried to continue mixing the ingredients, but riki wasn’t having it. He gently took the bowl from her hands, setting it aside. “You’re too distracted now. Just take a break, y/n,” he said, his tone soft but full of intent.

y/n was about to protest but found herself leaning into him instead, his presence a comforting weight against her. She could feel his fingers brushing the back of her neck, a small touch that sent shivers down her spine.

“You’re a handful,” she whispered, her voice low, a slight laugh escaping her lips as she let herself relax against him.

riki smiled, his hands moving to cup her face gently, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “I can’t help it,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her forehead before softly kissing her lips.

The kiss was slow at first, tender but teasing, his lips barely touching hers before pulling away just as she leaned in. y/n’s heart raced as she felt the heat from his kiss, his hands sliding down her arms until they rested on her waist, pulling her even closer. She could feel his breath on her lips, the warmth from his body, and for a brief moment, she was lost in him.

When they finally pulled away, y/n was breathless, a light flush across her cheeks. “Alright, let’s get back to baking,” she said, trying to sound casual, but her voice was shaky, betraying her.

riki smirked, brushing a thumb over her bottom lip as he stepped back, but he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. “Later,” he murmured, his lips grazing hers again, this time a little more urgent, a little more heated. y/n melted into the kiss, her fingers moving to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. She could taste him, the sweetness lingering on her lips, and the desire to be closer to him almost overwhelmed her.

As they pulled away, both of them breathless, y/n laughed softly, her voice tinged with excitement. “Okay, we seriously should bake something...”

riki’s eyes glinted with something unreadable, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Sure. But I’m still not leaving you alone for the rest of the night.”

y/n rolled her eyes, her hands sliding up to rest on his chest. “I guess I’m okay with that.” She pulled him back in for one last kiss, this one slow and lingering, before they finally turned back to the bowl of flour, both of them trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. But the tension between them lingered, thick and palpable, and both of them couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the rest of the night.

[ejtheoneandonly]

Giving them a memory in form of a toy

Feat. Takemichi Hanagaki, Manjirō Sano, Ken Ryuguji, Keisuke Baji, Chifuyu Matsuno and Takashi Mitsuya

Synopsis. It is the time where you are both adults and have made your lives, you've been together for so many years you already know what each other want without asking, but little did they know, with this gift you were going to give them, will reassure them why you are together in the first place...

Takemichi Hanagaki

You saved enough money from your earnings as you decided to buy him something unforgettable. A motorcycle toy. It may not be the huge thing but it wasn't any motorcycle, it was a miniature model of his motorcycle when he was in the Tokyo Manji Gang.

Takemichi arrived from a work day, he was very tired and you greeted him as usual.

"How was your day?"

"Eh, nothing much, today was more exhausting than usual..." he said scratching his head.

"Well~" you said while getting closer to him "to give you a reward for your hard work of the day..." you said while giving him a miniature model (toy) of the motorcycle he used to ride back then.

Hanagaki's eyes lit up, he couldn't believe it, it ended up in him being emotional at the toy, so many memories flushed his mind. "Woah, thank you so much!!" This day inmediately became better for you and for him.

Manjirō Sano

He was driving on his motorcycle on a race, you were nearby, watching him go, you personally loved doing this. You were preparing the toy motorcycle you bought with all your effort for him, still, you were unsure if it was going to work, since he is surrounded by motorcycles all the time, you thought it wouldn't make sense but you decided to take the risk since you loved him so much.

When Mikey finished the race, he went to Draken to chat.

This was a now or never moment.

"Mikey!! Oi!!" You ran to him, the pressure was high, the results unknown but your affection to Manjirō was neverending.

"Yo, __" Mikey turned to you smiling

"I..." you were holding the toy in your hands

"Hm? What's that? A toy?" Mikey raised an eyebrow as he looked curious about the present

"Uh, yeah it is." You looked away

"Aren't you a little too old for toys?" He teased

"Hah. Funny. Coming from someone who still squeals like a little kid when eating dorayakis." You teased back

"That's not fair" Mikey pouted

"And this toy is not mine...it's yours." You decided to give the toy to him.

Mikey took it, while looking at it, he realized it was not any toy, it was a model of his old motorcycle back when he was once, the feared leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Muteki no Mikey.

"..." He stood silent

"Mikey is so astonished I see." Draken added

"Do you...think he likes it?" You asked him

"Oh he does, he sure does" Draken was happy and grateful with how much you took care of his beloved best friend

"___...how did you get this?" Mikey said while getting closer to you

"Wait, you li-" you were talking but he cut you off by hugging you and tossing you through the air

"I LOVE IT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN? :D" Mikey was beaming with happiness, while you heard his laugh, you then realized that everything was worth it in the end.

Ken Ryuguji

You and Draken were sitting, watching tv, it was one of those days in which you decided not to do anything, spending the time, it was nice.

"Ah...nothing interesting to watch." The one with the dragon tattoo broke the silence

"Today is boring, isn't it?" You said

"Fuck yes it is..." His bored eyes didn't seem to break from the screen

"Well, I have something that might cheer you up" You said while getting up to your room

Ken just remained silent but couldn't help but wonder, what were you going to do

"Close your eyes!" You said from the room

"Huh? For what?" Ken tilted his head

"Just do it!"

And, reluctantly, Draken closed his eyes

You walked slowly to him and dropped the little present on his lap "Okay, now open them!"

As Ken Ryuguji opened his eyes, he couldn't help but widen them a bit "!!!"

He checked the toy, it was exactly like his motorcycle on his good ol' gang days, he is loving the gift but his face says otherwise

"Wait, you don't like it?? I'll change i-" you tried to justify yourself but he stopped you

"Don't do that." He went to put the toy in a safe place "...I really like this present. I don't know how long it took for you to make it but..." he turned at you "thank you"

You both smiled at each other

That was when an interesting movie appeared at last in the tv "oh look! Let's watch that movie!"

You said rushing to the floor, Draken followed you through "yeah".

Keisuke Baji

"Oi, Baji!" You tried to get his atention

"What? Can't you see I'm busy?" He was indeed busy, he was trying to study for the finals, his dream of becoming a vet was nearby even he couldn't believe it! He couldn't waste anymore time.

"But it's important!" You said, while holding the gift behind your back

Keisuke sighed, he tried his best to not lose his patience and turned at you "Then speak. What is it?" His sharp gaze made you tremble for a bit

"Uh- this." You gave him the toy

"What's this for? What's the occasion? And why does this toy look like the motorcycle I used to drive before..?" Keisuke Baji asked while checking the toy, but trust me, on the inside, he was very happy

"No special occasion, just wanted to give it to you, to give you...motivation to continue workimg hard for your goals?" You said a little bashful

"...I see" he put the toy aside to continue studying "...thanks" he said lowering his voice

You knew him, you knew he liked the gift and you couldn't be more happier.

Chifuyu Matsuno

You arrived through the door "Oh my love~! Chifuyu~!"

"Oh! Hello ___!" Chifuyu as he noticed you, smiled at you ^///^

You rushed to hug him while Kazutora who was also there, watched in jealousy "Couldn't you two choose a better place for your love displays?"

"Oh shut it you just jealous!" Chifuyu stuck his tongue at him

"You-!" They were both about to fight but you decided to put the gift in Chifuyu's hands, dismissing the whole situation

"Chifuyu-kun, this is for you" you smiled at him

"Waaah! So cool!" He couldn't help but admire your gift, it was like his motorcycle from his Tokyo Manji days, he assured he would play with this toy forever if he could

You hugged and kissed his face "yes, it is all for you!"

You both laughed together, Chifuyu Matsuno couldn't thank you enough

Takashi Mitsuya

He was going to leave the country for some time due to his job and you thought you could give him a little part of your love so he always thought of you when away...

So you decided to wait for the right time, Takashi was walking towards the door, waving goodbye to you "My love, I promise to come back as soon as possible" he gave a gentle smile to you, that smile you always loved.

"Wait, Taka-chan!" You went to kiss him, but while that was happening, you gave him the gift in his hands, he separated from the kiss, curious about what was in his hands "what's this?"

"A gift for you! A reminder of my love! Something you can carry anywhere for you to think of me! ^w^" You said while cupping his face

"You love me that much, don't you?" He was taking a look at the motorcycle toy you have him, the model was exactly like the motorcycle he used to have on his gang days, he couldn't help but feel nostalgia, at the same time, he was thankful, so thankful he hugged you and remained that way for some minutes.

"Hey, you're going to miss the plane" you tried to tell him but Mitsuya only hugged tighter

"You are more important in this moment."

[sippy--sippy]

wedding date (miya atsumu x reader) - summary: you meet atsumu at your friend's wedding and steamy shenanigans ensue CW: smut, car sex word count: 9,774 A/N: if you know me in real life do not read this oh my goooooooood i can't have people knowing i write smut. ya’ll this is almost 10k words LOL this holds the record for the longest one-shot i’ve ever written. this idea came to me because i went to like 5 weddings last year and none of them were my own so i'm getting desperate. enjoyyyyy! !! MINORS DNI !! also, reader is written as AFAB and wears a dress

One would think you’d be more excited to see the cumulation of hours and hours of hard work come to a head once your best friend’s wedding came around. Working closely with the bride-to-be (Kumi) and the maid of honor (her sister), it took months to plan your best friend’s perfect fairytale wedding. Tiring, grueling nights of research, long phone calls, nonrefundable deposits and arguing had finally paid off.

Kumi had found the most beautiful countryside venue for her ceremony. The venue was surrounded by lush forest, spattered with cherry blossom trees that were thankfully in bloom at this time in April, giving the area an ethereal feeling. Rows of white chairs lined the grass, an aisle nestled between the rows that was dusted with white rose petals and cherry blossoms, leading to an elaborate archway decorated with drapes of tulle, ribbons and flowers.

Wedding guests were already in their seats, talking reverently amongst themselves as they awaited the wedding processional, soft romantic music filling the background. You couldn't have asked for better weather either. It was a sunny, clear skied day and since it was April, it wasn’t stiflingly hot.

So why weren’t you giddy with happiness? 

Because you were nervous. 

You wanted this to be the most perfect day for your friend, one that she’ll cherish forever. What if something went horribly wrong? What if someone in the procession tripped? What if the caterers for the luncheon give everyone food poisoning? What if someone breaks their ankle on the dancefloor?

A million possibilities ran through your mind of what could possibly go wrong during the next couple hours but the procession was actually the part you were most worried about. Usually, there would be some sort of practice rehearsal the day before to make sure everyone knew what order to walk out in, how to timely do so, and to make sure everyone knew where to stand. Unfortunately, a rehearsal wasn’t done due to half of the procession still traveling from Tokyo the day before and not making it into town until late that night so no one was able to practice.

Behind a remodeled rustic barn that served as the inside portion of the venue and out of sight from all the guests, everyone was scrambling to get in the proper order to walk out. The officiant was going to walk out first so he could take his spot under the archway. Next in line was the groom who, besides the utter chaos around him, looked as cool as a cucumber.

Due to living a pretty large distance away from each other, you didn’t have the chance to get to know Kumi’s boyfriend, fiance and now almost-husband very well. From what you have learned though, was that Kita Shinsuke was the calmest, sweetest and most brutally honest person you had ever had the chance of meeting. While you were almost scared to talk to him at times, you could see how your friend had fallen head over heels for him. He was so gentle and soft spoken, especially to her. She was going to have the most peaceful life with him.

He looked very sharp with his tailored light grey 3-piece suit and his dainty baby pink bowtie. His hair wasn’t styled much different than what it usually looked like. If anything it looked just the slightest bit wind-swept with the small breeze that blew through the air. How he managed to look so nonchalant at a pivotal moment of his life like this, you had no clue. 

Following him was Kita’s grandma and Kumi’s mother who were going to walk down the aisle together, both dressed in cream dresses. At the tail end of the party, Kita’s little nephew and Kumi’s niece acted as the ring bearer and flower girl. Behind them, hidden from Kita’s view just inside the barn, Kumi was waiting to emerge with her older brother who was going to walk her down the aisle, as her father had passed away years ago.

Sandwiched right in the middle of the party were the groomsmen and bridesmaids which is where the real issue lay. Since no one was able to practice the procession, none of you knew who you were supposed to be walking down the aisle with and it didn’t help that Kita had asked practically his entire high school volleyball team to be his groomsmen. Luckily, your friend had picked just as many bridesmaids so there were even numbers but there were 10 different couples. 20 bridesmaids and groomsmen in total. Which was absolute lunacy in your personal opinion. 

The maid of honor was whisper-shouting the names of each couple that were supposed to walk down the aisle together. She was paired with Kita’s best man, a tall dark-skinned man named Aran Ojiro. As she went down the list, each bridesmaid and groomsman scrambled to find each other and get in the procession line. She called a couple names before she finally called yours. 

“(L/n) (Y/n) and Miya Atsumu.”

You were briefly surprised when she called your partner’s name because she had already called another Miya to partner up with a different bridesmaid. He was tall and handsome, dark brown hair swooped to the right, looking casual but put together at the same time. Were the two related? You didn’t have to think for long as a warm body sidled up to you.

Definitely twins, was your first thought. They looked eerily similar, especially since they were wearing the same outfit. All of the groomsmen wore a white button down shirt with a light gray suit vest and slacks, all tied together with a baby pink tie. This twin however, had blonde hair that was styled to gently swoop to the left and he seemed to be slightly broader than his brother.

Extremely handsome, nonetheless. Almost unnervingly so. 

He looked down at you with a casual smile and flashed a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “Are you (L/n) (Y/n)?”

You suddenly felt very self conscious about the way you looked. How were you supposed to walk down the aisle on the arm of a man that looked like- well- that? The pink dress you wore to match all of the other bridesmaids felt too hot and restricted. You were suddenly worried you were going to sweat through your dress. Did your hair look alright? Was your makeup smeared?

Realizing you had just been staring at him, all you managed to squeak out was a pathetic “Yes”.

He probably noticed your raging blush underneath the heavy layer of makeup covering your cheeks but he didn’t say anything about it, instead choosing to lead you over to the procession line to stand behind his twin and the bridesmaid he was linking arms with. 

Atsumu held out his ridiculously strong looking arm to you and you hesitantly looped your hand into the crook of his elbow. You could feel the bulge of his bicep beneath his shirt and you felt yourself getting woozy. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the sudden temperature spike, how painstakingly gorgeous the man who stood next to you was, the nerves or a combination of all of it.

You didn’t realize that you were shaking until Atsumu dipped his head down to look at you in concern. “Are y’ alright? Yer tremblin’.”

He had the same Kansai accent that Kita had. You couldn’t deny that it fit him beautifully. You nodded and gave him a tight lipped smile. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just nervous I guess.”

Atsumu huffed in amusement and nudged your ribs with the elbow you held onto. “What for? Yer not the one gettin’ married.”

With the hand that wasn’t holding onto his elbow, the hand that held a small bouquet of pale pink and white flowers, you very delicately tapped his chest in retort. You couldn’t smack him as hard as you wanted to, in lieu of destroying the fragile bouquet. “I know that! I just- I don’t know. I want this to go as smoothly as possible. Kumi and Kita deserve the most perfect wedding and what if I trip over these stupid heels walking down the aisle or something.”

You shifted on your feet to prove your point, your heeled feet squishing into soft grass you stood on. Atsumu looked down to watch you squirm in place, then surprised you by lifting his free hand up to pat your hand that rested on his arm.

“I’ll catch you if y’ fall. Or fall with you, so yer not as embarrassed if yer really that worried ‘bout it. We can humiliate ourselves together..”

You looked up at him with a raised brow. He’d do that for you? You couldn’t deny it made your heart race that this attractive man that you’d met not two minutes ago would go to such lengths to calm your nerves, even if that meant embarrassing himself. You gave him a genuine smile this time, squeezing the soft muscle of his arm.

“Thank you for the offer, that’s very sweet of you. Let’s just both agree to not fall for the next 20 minutes and save our humiliating moves for the dancing later tonight.”

Atsumu smiled at that idea and straightened up. “Save me a dance?”

Butterflies exploded in your stomach and suddenly you weren’t so worried about the ceremony anymore, instead looking forward to the night to come. “Absolutely.”

A venue employee motioned for the start of the processional to begin and the officiator made his way out from behind the barn to start down the aisle, followed a handful of slow seconds later by Kita who’d take his place next to him. Kita’s grandma and Kumi’s mom followed after and then next were the bridesmaids and groomsmen. Atsumu and yourself were 6th in line so it took a while before it was your turn. Once Atsumu’s twin made his way out, a couple of seconds passed before the two of you started your walk.

Instead of keeping his free hand down by his side like all the groomsmen before you had, Atsumu kept his free hand resting over yours that sat nestled in his arm. You realized he was doing it to help keep you steady if you needed it. If your legs weren’t wobbly before, they certainly were now.

The slow walk down the aisle felt ages long but probably took about 30 seconds tops. It was terrifying having all the attendees watching you walk down the aisle but you kept your cool and kept a soft smile on your face. You couldn’t see it, but Atsumu was cheesing the whole time. He loved weddings, especially when he got to walk down the aisle with a pretty bridesmaid.

Once the both of you reached the end of the aisle, Atsumu gently let go of your hand and you hesitantly let go of his arm to join the line of bridesmaids. You couldn’t help but look at him before you parted. Everyone was focused on the couples behind you anyway so no one was paying attention to you two at the moment. Atsumu gave you a sly smile and a wink before turning to take his place in the line, not before giving a nod to Kita who gave him a rare gentle smile.

The rest of the ceremony went swimmingly. Kumi looked so beautiful walking down the aisle with her brother. The ever stoic Kita had tears in his eyes the second she came into view, and his voice even wobbled as they exchanged vows. You were embarrassed to admit that half the time the officiator was talking, you weren’t watching the happy couple, instead focusing on the line of groomsmen behind Kita. 

Atsumu had a sort of magnetism to him you couldn’t deny. He seemed to be having the same problem as you because you made eye contact on multiple occasions and his smile broadened each time. The ceremony flew by and Kita and Kumi officially became husband and wife with a sweet kiss, prompting cheers from all the attendees.

The newlyweds made their way back up the aisle, smiling and holding hands while being showered in white flower petals. The bridesmaids and groomsmen then linked back up with their assigned partners to follow them once they were through. While most linked arms again, Atsumu surprised you by interlocking your fingers and tugging you down the aisle with him in giddy happiness. His energy was contagious and you were laughing right along with him through the white petals.

Once the exciting energy of the ceremony wound down, it was time for pictures which took an awful long time. There were a large variety of shots. Large family pictures, pictures of just parents/grandparents, Kumi and all the bridesmaids, the groomsmen tossing a rather hesitant Kita into the air, etc. There was only one picture where you were placed next to Atsumu (to your disappointment) but when he put his hand on the small of your back while everyone smiled at the camera, you decided you wouldn’t complain.

The luncheon followed next, which you helped oversee to make sure everything was running smoothly. By the time it was time to actually sit down and eat, all the circular tables towards the front of the room where the other bridesmaids and groomsmen were sitting by the head table had been filled from what you could see. You were about to find an extra seat at one of the emptier far tables but before you could, Atsumu waved you over to his table where a seat next to him was being saved. You thanked him profusely and sat down just as Kumi’s sister gave her maid of honor speech, followed by Kumi and Kita giving their own speeches. You couldn’t help but tear up as they spoke, their adoration for each other very apparent. 

While they spoke, caterers brought plates of food around to the tables. The main course consisted of salmon smoked to perfection with a side of rice straight from the family farm Kita owned and operated. Along with a couple other sides, cups of sake were passed around to those who wanted it. 

It wasn’t until the tail end of Kita’s speech when you noticed Atsumu had draped his arm over the back of your chair. Your bare shoulders could feel the heat of him through his white shirt.

Once speeches had wrapped up, everyone dug into their food and started casual conversation. Most of the people around the table were groomsmen, and you quickly learned all about their high school volleyball days and learned that almost all of them, including Atsumu to your absolute pleasure, still played professionally. Atsumu’s twin, Osamu you learned, was happy to tell you all about it.

“‘Tsumu’s both the most popular and most hated volleyball player in all of Japan. He’s talented, sure, but his PR skills are absolute garbage. This scrub gets cancelled on Twitter at least once a month. You’d think with as big of a head as he’s got, he’d have a bigger brain and NOT get into a fight with some 12 year old kid who said Kageyama’s a better setter than ‘Tsumu will ever be.”

Everyone at the table laughed, yourself included. Atsumu growled and tried to punch Osamu, who ducked out of the way. They scuffled for a little bit as you got to know the other people at the table. Aran and Suna were fun to talk to, both of them professional volleyball players as well. Aran was one of the strongest players in Japan which you were very interested in learning about, and Suna had the most social media followers of any professional volleyball player in the whole world. 

They asked a lot of questions about you too, which got Atsumu’s attention enough to finally stop fighting Osamu. You told them about your career in Tokyo and the simple life you were leading. Nothing compared to theirs, you assured them, which they disagreed with you on. 

The rest of the luncheon was filled with pleasant conversation and laughter. Before you knew it, the caterers came around to clear the tables and it was announced that there would be a break until the reception started so the guests could go do as they pleased. There were still a couple hours until the reception and none of you knew the location well enough to leave the venue to explore so everyone stayed and lounged around. 

You got up and took some time to make sure everything was in order for the dance portion of the reception and songs were queued in the right order. The cake was your next target, making sure it was ready for the cutting. After checking a couple other odds and ends, you made your way back to the table where the conversation had fizzled out. A couple of the men were on their phones, Osamu seemed to be sleeping with his head on the table, and Atsumu was just looking around the venue at all the lights and decor. When you slid back into your chair, he smiled and straightened up, angling his body towards yours.

He led you into a conversation about your life, and you asked questions about him, very interested in his blossoming career as a national league setter. As you spoke, you didn’t notice his arm moving beneath the tablecloth until you felt his fingers brush your thigh. Your dress was on the longer side, so he wasn’t able to reach any skin but that didn’t stop him from flattening out his large palm over the fabric. Your words caught in your mouth as you looked at him in surprise. His head was propped up on his other hand, and he didn’t look the least bit guilty as his pointer finger started to twirl in lazy circles.

His hand wasn’t unwelcome, you realized very quickly, and you enjoyed the feel of his warm fingers running over your thigh. The tablecloth covered your legs and his hand so you didn’t worry about people seeing, but it was still risky. You were thankful for your longer dress because if he had any access to more of your legs, you were sure he’d be exploring and you doubted you’d be able to keep any noises or reactions you made very discreet.

His hand stayed on your thigh for a quite while and you didn’t realize how much time had passed until you looked at the clock. The reception was set to start in half an hour and you needed to make sure the caterer’s were getting the refreshments in order.

Grabbing Atsumu’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, you deposited it into his own lap and excused yourself. You stood up and wandered back into the kitchen to talk to the manager of the catering business, talking lightheartedly with him and praising him and his team on his work. The refreshments looked amazing, a blend of sweet and savory dishes spread across trays to bring out once the reception guests started to arrive. Thanking them for all their hard work, you left the kitchen but you didn’t get very far because someone grabbed your arm and yanked you behind a stack of crates and refrigerated boxes brought by the caterers. It was secluded from sight, but you wouldn’t be hard to spot if one of the workers came looking for a stack of extra cups.

Atsumu smiled down at you as you stared at him in surprise. In his hands was a plate stacked with pastries from the kitchen. Your mouth watered at the sight, but you couldn’t help but scold him first.

“How did you get those? We’re not supposed to eat these until the reception starts,” you whispered. Even so, you grabbed one and stuck half of it in your mouth anyway, almost moaning at how good it was.

Atsumu quietly laughed and ate one of his own. “I grabbed some while you were distractin’ the workers. I haven’t had sugar all day so I grabbed a couple. I figured they won’t notice a couple missin’. Thought you’d want a taste too.”

As he finished his sentence, he held your stare as he licked a dash of the cloudy frosting off his thumb. He knew what he was doing, making sure to take his time as his tongue flattened over the tip of his finger to get every drop. God yes, you wanted a taste.

Gulping, you shoved the rest of the pastry in your mouth in haste, trying to push the sinful thoughts aside. This was not the place, nor the time (as much as you wished it was). Dusting your fingers of crumbs, you licked your teeth to make sure there wasn’t any pastry residue stuck there. Atsumu gazed at you the whole time, hands gripping the plate, staring at your mouth. 

“W-We should… get back to our table-”

Atsumu’s restraint snapped it seemed, surging forward to pull you into a fierce kiss. He dropped the plate of pastries on to the nearest box and used his now free hand to cradle the back of your neck. You were surprised, but melted into the kiss shortly after. A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right? 

You draped your arms over his neck as he guided you back to rest against a stack of boxes. The hand that didn’t hold your neck slid down your side and hooked underneath your thigh, pulling it up to hook around his leg as high as your dress would offer. His hand kneaded the flesh behind your knee as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue making an appearance to swipe across your lips, probably gathering up a trail of powdered sugar left there from the pastry. 

You were on cloud 9, eyes fluttering as you happily let his tongue dance with yours. Atsumu let out a soft grunt as one of your hands slid into his hair, grasping at the blonde strands. As much as you wanted this to continue, in the back of your mind you knew you couldn't go further than this. Hoards of people were due to start showing up any minute for the reception, and you’d be found for sure. 

Relishing in a couple more pushes of his lips against yours, you pressed your hands to his cheeks and pulled his face away. He slowly opened his eyes to look at you in hazy, lust-filled confusion, a hum of question rising from his throat as you squished his cheeks together.

“We can’t do this here. Someone’s gonna catch us and we need to get ready for the reception.” As you spoke, you stared at his lips, both because you wanted to kiss him again and because the dark lip tint covering your lips was smeared across his mouth.

Laughing lightly, you ran your thumb over his lips, picking up the color as you went. His eyes softened at your laugh and he stood still as you worked, hand dropping your leg so he could instead rest his hands on your hips. 

“Are ya sure? We can make it quick, I promise. I’ll be real quiet, baby,” he whispered.

You shook your head and pushed his chest so he’d back up. He holds tightly to your sides as you adjust your dress back down your legs and fan your face to try to make your flaming blush go away. Atsumu hesitantly let you go as you started to herd him out from behind the boxes as nonchalantly as possible, holding the plate of pastries in one hand. 

New guests were starting to show up and join the greeting line to say congratulations to the happy couple, leaving piles of gifts at the front entrance. Atsumu had a pep in his step as the two of you neared your table, pulling out your chair for you which you embarrassingly thanked him for, shrinking under the curious gaze of everyone else. Osamu was particularly curious, raising a brow as Atsumu plopped into his chair with a sly grin. You busied yourself with watching the sea of people, smiling as they praised Kita and Kumi on their wedding and gorgeous reception. 

Atsumu and yourself ease back into the table’s conversation to wait for the greeting line to disperse. Atsumu’s hand found its way to your thigh again, this time brushing higher than it did before. You nearly jumped out of your seat when he forced his digits against the strain of your dress to drag over the crotch of your panties. You snatched his hand away as discreetly as you could, choosing to interlock your fingers with his instead, holding his hand in your lap. Atsumu seemed fine with this change and relaxed against his chair to tune back into Aran’s story of how he met his new girlfriend. 

By the time it was announced that it was time for the cake cutting, you were nearly asleep in your chair. It had been a long, eventful day and you were starting to feel the effects of it. Your eyes opened from their drooped state when Atsumu stood and pulled you up with him to gather around where the newlyweds were about to cut into their cake.

Smacking your cheeks to clear your head, you let him lead you to the crowd of people surrounding Kumi and Kita. Osamu clocked your intertwined hands immediately but didn’t say anything. Atsumu let you stand in front of him so you could peek through the bodies to watch, the heat of him grazing your spine as you watched the couple try their cake and laughed as Kumi smashed a bite into Kita’s surprised face. 

Once the cake had been wheeled away, it was time for the dancing. Everyone stood around the dance floor as Kumi danced with her brother, which brought a tear to your eye, and gentle Kita danced with his grandma which really made you cry. Then, Kita and Kumi danced together. They held each other close as they slowly danced, whispering to one another. It was a sweet moment, and you watched them with adoration, unaware of the gentle gaze Atsumu had on you, not the couple. 

As they finished their song, anyone who wanted could go out to join them for another slow song. You twisted your fingers together and watched a large handful of couples head to the dancefloor. A shock of electricity ran down your spine when a warm hand fully rested on your lower back and Atsumu pushed you forward. You had no time to decline, as he had already pulled you in front of the crowd so you’d look pathetic if you backed out now.

Gulping nervously, you shyly looked at him as he took your left hand into his right, bringing his other to rest on your lower back to tug you flush against him. Your free hand moved to rest hesitantly on the back of his shoulder when he started to sway to the soft music. You buried your face into the warm expanse of his chest to hide your blush and he brought his head down to rest against the side of yours. 

“Yer shakin’ again, beautiful,” he murmured into your ear.

Squeezing the hand that held yours, you murmured back a quiet “fuck you” which made his chest rumble with a low laugh. You didn’t say anything the rest of the dance, slowly relaxing into his hold which he noticed, pulling you impossibly closer. The end of the song came too soon and people started rushing the dance floor when a much more upbeat song came on. 

Before you had the chance to look at him, Atsumu was dragging you into the bouncing crowd, the beginnings of a mosh pit bubbling. You were swept into another dance with him, this one much more full of life. Deciding to just let go, you gave into his advances, swaying your hips and laughing loudly as the bass of the song shuddered through you. Atsumu laughed too, bouncing on his feet to the beat. The rest of your table came to dance around you, some more energetic than others, but there nonetheless. 

The more songs that played, the looser everyone got. Even Kita was getting into it. Osamu found one of the bridesmaids to dance with, a little liquid courage from multiple cups of sake flowing through him. Aran wouldn’t dance with any other ladies, as he did have a girlfriend, but that didn’t stop him from dancing with Suna who was surprisingly fluid as he danced. Atsumu focused all of his attention on you, save for the one time Suna started throwing it back, also a little drunk. Everyone’s attention was caught by that.

Besides that though, Atsumu kept close to you and got closer and closer as you danced. At one point, you helped him loosen his tie and threw it around his neck. Since everyone else was too preoccupied with dancing, and no one was going to even notice you doing it anyway, you pressed your ass against Atsumu’s slacks, hips moving in time with his to the beat. His breath was hot against your neck, large palms keeping your waist warm as you brought a hand up to scrape your nails over his dark undercut.

You could feel his excitement start to tent his light grey slacks against your backside. Looking up at him with hooded eyes, you both had a silent but simple conversation.

You needed him and he needed you. Atsumu wasn’t ashamed to admit that if you kept grinding on him like that, he’d take you right here on the dance floor.

Showing some restraint and taking your hand tightly in his, Atsumu tugged you out of the sea of dancing bodies, an excited determination in his walk. As much as you wanted this to happen, there was only one problem.

“Atsumu, where are you planning on taking us? There’s nowhere private we can go in this building.”

He halted in his steps as he took in your words, realizing that you were right. There weren’t many rooms in this barn, save for the kitchen which was packed with caterers, the bathroom which had a constant flow of people trickling through, and the occasional storage closet which were too close to the reception to be able to sneak into without being easily spotted.

Drumming his fingers on his thigh, he looked around the venue in a desperate attempt to find some sort of secret alcove or something. Just when you thought that maybe it wasn’t meant to be, Atsumu perked up and grinned.

“I’ve got an idea.” He started tugging you along again back to the table the two of you had been sitting at all night. Letting go of your hand, he started rummaging through the pockets of the light jacket he had brought along with him that had been abandoned over the back of his chair all day. 

The muffled clacking of something in the jacket pocket gave away his idea as he pulled out a simple set of car keys. Flashing you a smile, which you eagerly returned, he snatched up your hand again to start walking out to the gravel parking lot that sat a couple hundred yards away from the venue. You tried to slow him down and make it less obvious to those around you what you were going to do but he seemed to be too excited to care.

The cool outside air was refreshing against your heated skin and the sky was gorgeous as the sun started to dip below the horizon. The parking lot was packed with cars, attendees constantly trickling in and out of the reception. Depending on where he was parked, the parking lot would be just as risky as using the bathroom inside. Luckily, he led you back to the far corner of the lot where a gorgeous white car sat. Your car knowledge was slim, so you didn’t know what type of car it was but you could tell it was expensive. It had very dark tinted windows as well, which was an extra bonus.

Atsumu had backed into his parking stall, a spot at the very end of the lot so no cars were parked behind him or on one side of him giving you both the perfect spot to hide away (unless the owner of the one car next to him showed up).

“Nice ride.” You joked as the both of you stopped by the driver’s side door. Atsumu chuckled as he fumbled his keys in his hands, trying to unlock the vehicle. 

“Thanks! ‘Samu says I got an expensive car to compensate for my ‘tiny dick’, but we’re twins, so he knows that’s not true. We had one too many naked fights in the locker room durin’ our volleyball days, so I know I’m packin’ just as much as he is. Front or back seat, gorgeous?”

You giggled as he finally got his car unlocked and opened the door for you to peer inside. As nice of a car as it was, you doubted Atsumu would be very comfortable in the back seat given his size. It was a pretty slim car. 

“Front. Wouldn’t want to squish you into the back seat.” You gave Atsumu a once over as he stood with an arm resting on the hood of the car. “Plus, I’d like to ride those thighs of yours.”

Atsumu had the goofiest smile. He looked like a kid in a candy store. “You’re readin’ my mind.”

You stood watch as Atsumu worked on getting his car ready, moving the driver's seat as far back as it could go and reclining it enough so it would be comfortable for him. He cracked open the two windows on the passenger side of the car, the side that faced the forest, so some fresh air would breeze through. Finally, he slid into the car and threw the keys into the passenger's seat. If you weren’t turned on already, the sight of him lounging in the seat, outfit rumpled from the dancing, tie slung around his neck and powerful legs spread just waiting for you to settle onto them would definitely do the trick. 

Kicking off your heels, you left them sitting on the gravel outside the car and made one more cautious look around before you bunched up your dress to your knees so you could get into the car with more ease. Atsumu looked at you like you were the most gorgeous person on the planet as you moved to straddle his lap, dress hiking up a little more to rest around your thighs. 

The second you closed the door behind you, Atsumu’s mouth was attacking yours, tongue instantly pushing past the seal of your lips to explore every inch of your mouth that he could reach. His large palms kneaded the flesh of your ass through the thin fabric of your dress, and you moved to frantically rake your fingers through his dark undercut. The flex of his powerful thighs underneath yours was driving you insane, cords of muscle dragging against your skin through his slacks. You were sure his slacks were a size or two too small, because you could feel every inch of him like he wasn’t even wearing pants. 

After a couple of breathless minutes, the two of you finally separated, a string of spit keeping your mouths connected. Just like earlier, your dark lip tint was smeared over Atsumu’s lips again. When he went in for another kiss, you pulled your head back which prompted a whine from Atsumu as he tried to chase your lips.

“The makeup ‘Tsumu, remember? It’s gotta last for at least one more hour.”

Atsumu pouted and grumbled out a “fine” before focusing his attention on your neck. While he started attacking the soft skin just underneath your jaw, you started unbuttoning his vest and shirt. The more of his torso you exposed, the wetter you felt your panties get. He was gorgeously tanned and toned. Once you had unbuttoned all the buttons you could reach, besides the few that were tucked into his slacks, your hands started exploring his smooth skin. His shoulders were gorgeously sculpted, the dips of his collarbone deep. Your hands splayed over his chest, fingers brushing over his nipples which pebbled at your attention. 

His chest heaved at your ministrations, groaning in pleasure. You felt him shift his hips up into you, member straining against his slacks as he dragged it against your clothed core. Tightening your legs around his thighs, Atsumu held your hips tightly against his as he ground against you, working your neck with his teeth. You keened as his bulge dragged over your sensitive clit, shuddering as Atsumu nibbled at your ear. 

Tired of waiting, you reached beneath you to fumble with his belt, tossing it into the passenger seat with his keys once you’re able to pull it free. You make quick work of the button on his slacks, tugging down the zipper and pulling his pants and boxer briefs down just enough to bunch underneath his cock which stood at attention against his abdomen. 

Osamu was definitely wrong when he assumed Atsumu got a fancy car to compensate for a tiny dick, because it was anything but tiny. He wasn’t outrageously long, but he was thick. Thick enough that just the thought of him dragging inside of you had your eyes rolling back. 

WIth his cock now free, the friction between your panties and his member had Atsumu’s thighs quaking under you. He released one of his hands from the vice-grip it had on your hips to reach behind him and hold onto the head rest. 

“Hng- Christ, baby.” His voice was deep and scratchy, breathless as you rubbed your core against the underside of his dick, squeezing it between your body and his stomach. 

You mouthed at his throat which bobbed against your lips as he sat forward. Wrapping an arm around your back, he started digging through his center console. When he grunted in annoyance and leant forward even more to start shifting through his glove box, you nipped at his ear and huskily asked, “What’s wrong?”

Atsumu was pulling handfuls of objects out of the glove box and throwing them onto the floor in front of the passenger seat. “Shit- can’t find a condom.”

Dragging your tongue over the shell of his ear, you reached down and wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft. His cock twitched in your grip and his arm tightened around your back as he paused his searching.

“Are you clean?” you asked, slowly sliding your hand up over his velvety skin. All Atsumu could do was nod. “Then I don’t mind. I’m on birth control, but try to pull out if you can.”

Atsumu nodded again in agreement and leant back in his seat, watching with one of the most lustful gazes you had ever seen as you rose up on your knees to push your panties to the side, exposing your already drooling core to him. He gripped your thighs as you collected as much spit as you could in your mouth to spit onto your palm. Rubbing the liquid over his length as well as all of the pre-cum he’d already leaked, you gave him a couple pumps for good measure.

He tilted his head back to rest against the head-rest with a guttural groan as you positioned yourself over him, teasing his tip through your folds. With one hand guiding his length and the other gripping the shoulder of the seat, you sank slowly onto him. Both of you moaned in unison as he filled you surprisingly easily considering the lack of proper lubrication and the sheer size of him. 

You stopped with him half-way seated, gazing adoringly at his rosy cheeks and mussed hair. He looked back at you just as fondly. With a preparatory breath, you braced yourself on the seat and started to set a slow pace. Every thrust brought him a centimeter further into you as you adjusted to the stretch of him. He held your thighs in his hands, letting you take control for the time being and enjoying the view. 

It took a minute of work before you were able to fully sheath him inside yourself. You threw your head back and gasped when you did, the stretch of him hurting so deliciously. It didn’t help that the hard teeth on the zipper of his slacks rubbed against your sensitive folds and the button would occasionally brush over your clit.

Atsumu was barely holding it together. Your core hugged him so tightly, warmly pulsing around his cock in such a way that he probably could’ve come right then and there. Something about you just fit him perfectly in a way no other partner of his ever had. 

Once you felt like you had adequately adjusted, your pace quickened. Bouncing up and down on him, he enjoyed the view of your covered breasts bouncing in sync. He leant forward to suck on the small sliver of breast that was visible above the neckline of your dress. You whined and scratched your nails over the back of his neck. 

After a couple minutes of this, he couldn’t take it anymore. Gripping your hips tightly, Atsumu took control and started bouncing you on him himself, hips thrusting up to meet you. The new angle had you seeing stars and you didn’t care about your makeup anymore, smashing your lips to his in a kiss that was messy and wet.

Every force of your hips into his had your clit rubbing against the hard metal of his slacks and the brush of pubic hair at the base of his cock. It gave you the friction you needed to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Atsumu wasn’t faring much better - his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier and his hold on your hips getting less and less controlled. 

You didn’t have much time to prepare before you came, yelling his name as you gripped his broad shoulders, your fluids covering Atsumu’s thrusting member. It seemed Atsumu didn’t have time to prepare either because he came suddenly with a groan and spilled his load into you, groaning your name.

Pumping yourself up and down a couple more times, this time much slower to ride you both down from your highs, you rested your forehead against his in utter bliss. Breath mingling, you slowed to a stop and sat there in silence, relishing in the stretch of him seated completely inside you, the warm feeling of his spend mingling with your own deep in your core. 

After a minute, you pulled your head back to look at him. His face was flushed, eyes drooped in satisfaction and chest heaving from the exertion. The two of you started laughing in euphoria and Atsumu peppered kisses over your shoulder. You slid your fingers through his unkempt hair and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“That was really something, ‘Tsumu.” You hummed, giggling as he wrapped his arms tightly around you to hold you to his chest. 

“Sure was. Sorry ‘bout not pulling out. I really was gonna try but you just do somethin’ to me I can’t explain. I didn’t expect to cum that fast.” His hands explored your back, fingers running lightly over the fabric. 

“It’s alright. I’m not complaining.”

He pulled back to give you that handsome goofy grin again before kissing you sweetly. You gave him a chaste kiss before pulling away and looking down at the mess you made. Luckily, most of the mess was still trapped inside you thanks to him but if you weren’t careful, it’d get all over his slacks once he pulled out.

“How should we do this? You can’t go back in with a giant cum stain on your pants.”

He hummed in thought, looking around his car. He didn’t have any rags or towels handy, but he did have a load of napkins that he threw onto the floor when looking for a condom. Holding you closely to him, Atsumu reached over to scoop up as many napkins as he could reach. The shift of him had you both groaning at the overstimulation. 

Gathering a handful of napkins, he held them under you as you slowly slid off of him, catching as much fluid as possible. You both hissed at the feeling of him leaving you. Thankfully, he was able to catch almost everything with the napkins, save for a few splatters that got on his expensive leather seats.

“Shit, sorry ‘Tsumu. I can help pay to have that cleaned.”

He shook his head immediately, cleaning himself off with the napkins and dropping them on the floor next to his seat. He worked on tucking his length back into his boxer briefs and slacks while you cleaned yourself as best you could, pulling your panties back into place and fixing your dress. Turning your head, you pulled down his sun visor and opened the mirror to get a better look at the state of your makeup.

It was mostly intact, save for your lip tint that was slightly smeared which was fixed with a little swipe of a napkin and your hair was easily tamed since Atsumu had avoided running his fingers through it. There were remnants of your lipstick covering your neck from where Atsumu had furiously attacked. Atsumu had his own stains on his neck from where you had been kissing him. You made eye contact with him through the mirror as he gazed at you with a smirk. You huffed in amusement and cleaned up your neck, then turned to clean up his. 

He didn’t take his eyes off you as you did, watching you carefully wipe the smears off his skin. You wiped his mouth last, taking your time as you watched him part his lips for you. Once you were done, you dropped the napkin on the floor with the rest and sighed at him longingly. If only you had more time. You’d let this man do whatever he wanted to you. Unfortunately, you had a wedding reception to get back to. 

“Well, thanks for the good time ‘Tsumu.”

He watched your face carefully and you noticed the ever so slight crease fold in his brow. “Yeah. O’course.”

The silence that followed was a bit awkward, so after a second, you moved to open the car door but he grabbed your hand before you could. “Wait.”

You turned back to him and raised a brow, deciding to busy yourself with buttoning up his shirt and vest. He suddenly seemed very shy, rubbing his fingers over the flesh of your waist in little circles. Finally he spoke.

“When are ya headed back to Tokyo?”

You stilled your fingers which were working on the last button of his shirt. “Tomorrow.”

He nodded and seemed to be deep in thought before drumming his fingers against you in nervousness. “I fly back tonight but… wouldya be interested in meetin’ up sometime? I don’t have much free time but I’ll find the time for ya.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the offer. “Like… a date?”

Atsumu’s cheeks turned a shade darker in the almost nearly setting sun as he grumbled, now looking at anything but you. “I mean, yeah? Unless you don’t want it to be, then it doesn’t have to be a date I guess. Could be a friendly hang out or somethin-”

You cut him off with a brief but strong peck. You didn’t want to risk getting more lipstick on him. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

He perked up and squeezed your sides. “Really?”

You giggled and nodded. “Yes! Of course I would, you big airhead.”

The next couple seconds consisted of him raining kisses all over any part of you he could reach with you laughing and trying to push him away, begging him not to ruin your makeup. After losing the battle and cleaning lipstick off of him again, you finished buttoning up his vest and pulling your dress into place before you left the car.

You slid your heels back onto your aching feet while Atsumu refastened his belt and gathered up all the used napkins, making a mild sound of disgust at the large amounts of viscous fluid covering most of them that was getting all over his hand. Once his car was locked up, you both walked hand-in-hand back to the reception where it seemed no one even noticed the two of you had left.

After tossing the napkins into the nearest trash can, the both of you went to the bathroom to clean up any remaining mess before returning to the crowds. Plopping down at your table, the two of you gulped down multiple cups of water and started digging into the refreshments. Atsumu had consumed at least 3 onigiri and 2 little bowls of miso soup on his own before Osamu plopped down next to him, looking weathered from the dancing.

“Where have you two been? I lost track of ya like half an hour ago.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and you focused on your bowl of miso soup, stirring the broth around with your spoon. Atsumu seemed to be much less embarrassed, chest puffing up in pride as he finished off his next onigiri. Osamu raised an eyebrow and studied the two of you before looking at Atsumu’s neck, where a very obvious hickey was starting to bloom and groaned in disgust.

“Jesus, y'all are nasty. Where the hell did ya find a place to jump each other’s bones around here, huh? Out on the grass? There are kids here.”

You covered your face in embarrassment as Atsumu angrily started defending the two of you. “O’course not, jackass! Do you really think so little of me? You really think I’d do that?”

Osamu instantly agreed that he would, in fact, probably do that. Atsumu grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shook him around. “No! We did it in my car, thank you very much. And it was amazing. Have you ever done it in a car before, ‘Samu? Doubt it! No chick will ever want to go down on you if you keep cruising around in that beater of yours!”

The twins really started getting at it now, yelling at each other and rolling around on the ground, trying to get the last punch in. You tried to avert your eyes and pretend you didn’t know them. Kita, bless his heart, came up to separate the two who instantly fell to their knees to apologize for making a scene at his wedding. 

Atsumu came to you after, pouting about his brother and sporting a busted lip. You coddled him, helping clean the blood off his chin. Osamu gagged from his place at the table, now sitting next to you instead of Atsumu so they didn’t try to fight each other again. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. The dancing finally wrapped up and the send off was magical. The newlyweds ran through the line of guests who held sparklers above their heads, making for a magical exit into the night as the couple set off for their honeymoon. You had to stop Atsumu from starting Osamu’s hair on fire with his sparkler shortly after, taking both men’s sticks from them to put in a water bucket. 

All of Kita’s old volleyball friends stuck around to help clean up, helping put away the tables and chairs, and taking down the decorations. By the time it was over, you were wiped and ready to go back to your hotel room to sleep until noon. 

As you were loading up the last of the boxes into the trunk of your car, you felt someone come up behind you and ghost their hands over your stomach, pressing a tender kiss on the back of your neck. You smiled as you closed the trunk, reaching a hand up to slide through Atsumu’s soft hair. He buried his face in your neck and the two of you stood there for a minute, savoring the warmth of each other in the brisk darkness. 

“I wrote my number down on a napkin and put it in yer purse. Call me when y’ get back to Tokyo tomorrow, ‘kay? Wanna make sure y’ get back safe and sound.” 

You smiled and turned to face him, running your fingers over the tie that still hung loosely around his neck. “I will. I’ll text you when I get back to my hotel so you have my number, and you text me when you make it back to Tokyo tonight too. Need to make sure my date makes it back in one piece.”

He smiled and nodded in agreement, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. 

A day you thought would be full of nerves and worry, had turned into one of the best nights of your life.

-

If you thought Kita and Kumi’s wedding was nerve wracking, it didn’t hold a candle to your OWN wedding. 

Pressed close to Osamu’s side, you waited anxiously as the wedding procession in front of you started their walk down the aisle. Since you had no living male blood relative that you wanted to walk you down the aisle, your now almost brother-in-law was immediately your first choice. He was surprised, of course, but said yes in a heartbeat. Atsumu’s twin had easily weaseled his way into your heart soon after you started dating Atsumu, as rocky and embarrassing as your first night meeting him was.

He gave you a free meal every time you visited Onigiri Miya, and charged Atsumu full price to make up the difference. He gave you the most embarrassing pictures of Atsumu in his phone to use for blackmail. He was the ring-leader in making sure everything was perfect the night Atsumu proposed to you, keeping a crowd of people at bay to make sure you and Atsumu were alone when he dropped to one knee in the middle of a large gorgeous bridge at the popular tourist site, the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. He got yelled at in many languages that day from the angry tourists who wanted to cross the bridge, but it was well worth it. Suna, who held off the swarm of people on the other side of the bridge, would agree.

Just like you had the day of Kumi and Kita’s wedding, you were trembling and clutched Osamu’s arm desperately. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“You’re ok, (Y/n). Everything is going smoothly. All you have to do today is make it down that aisle to ‘Tsumu and enjoy yourself for the rest of the night. We’ll take care of everything.”

You looked up at him with a teary smile at his words. With no siblings of your own, your relationship with Osamu meant the world to you. Standing on your tip-toes, you softly kissed his cheek. “Thanks, ‘Samu.”

It was finally your turn to walk down the aisle. With a deep breath, Osamu slowly started to lead you into the room packed with family and friends. It was a gorgeous building. High steepled ceilings, white and burnt orange flowers scattered over every surface available. Since it was mid December, an outside wedding was impossible with the cold but you couldn’t have picked a more perfect place to get married in. 

The actual place itself didn’t matter though, as much as the man who waited down the aisle did. Atsumu was dressed in a gorgeous black tux that was pressed to perfection with a sleek black tie to match. His hair was styled the same way it had the day you met him, brushed casually to the side. To your surprise, Atsumu was already crying.

Seeing you walk down the aisle in your beautiful dress, on the arm of his life-long best friend broke him down immediately. You couldn’t help but tear up yourself as Osamu brought you to him. Osamu softly gave your trembling hand to Atsumu, kissed your temple, and gave Atsumu a crushing hug before taking his place at the front of the line of groomsmen. Speaking of groomsmen, you noticed many of them were also already crying. 

Atsumu’s teammates were lined up next to him. Kita and Aran both had tears lining their eyes. Hinata and Bokuto, who you became fast friends with, were almost on the verge of full-on sobs. Suna wasn’t crying but had a smile on his face. Sakusa wasn’t crying either but didn’t seem as bored as he usually did. 

“You look so beautiful.” Atsumu blubbered out in a whisper as he moved to take both of your hands. Your wet eyes sparkled as you took in every inch of him.

“So do you,” you teased, which made him laugh. 

The rest of the ceremony both flew by and dragged on. You stumbled through your vows, trying to keep your tears at bay which proved mostly unsuccessful. Atsumu was in the same boat, barely able to make it through his own vows without choking up. 

By the time Atsumu dipped you into a fierce kiss, you were sure your makeup was already ruined from your tears. Everyone cheered loudly in joy. Osamu was hooting and hollering. Hinata and Bokuto finally succumbed to their emotions, crying hysterically. You were breathless by the time Atsumu brought you back to your feet, steadying you with his hands as you smiled widely at the crowd.

Interlocking your fingers, Atsumu led you back down the aisle through the shower of white confetti just like he had the day you met him. In fact, your photographer captured the moment almost in the exact same way that Kumi and Kita’s photographer had. You loved the photos so much, they were hanging up side-by-side in your and Atsumu’s house. 

In both pictures, the two of you were smiling more than you ever thought was possible, holding hands and looking at each other with such tenderness you could feel it through the photo. You didn’t really believe in love at first sight, but looking at the photos side-by-side, you realized the two of you had looked at each other that fateful day the same way you looked at each other on your wedding day.

[sarahisslytherin]

whatever you need.

matt murdock x reader

summary: matt murdock has enough problems. but when his upstairs neighbor is upset over her breakup, he can't help getting involved.

contains: talk of an emotionally abusive relationship. mentions of fem!reader. other than that it's all fluff.

a/n: am i trying to process my feelings through fanfiction? absolutely. am i ashamed? no. also so happy to be writing for my boy matt again! gif by @djo

word count: 0.8k

It’s been a long day for Matt Murdock. Work was shit, in spite of Foggy’s attempts to crack jokes and cheer him up. His body aches in too many places to count from the endless hits he took last night. So when he finally stumbles in through his apartment door, the last thing Matt needs is another problem. But as he cracks open a beer and takes a seat on his sofa, he can’t help but notice how the silence surrounding him is pierced by a ragged cry.

His head cocks to the side, listening intently to figure out where the sound is coming from. It’s the apartment directly above him, the one with the young woman he often would hear singing or laughing. That was until the boyfriend moved in. There was still laughter, but exponentially less of it. He recalls a lot more crying and fighting and slamming doors. It was like that for a while. He can’t deny that some nights the arguments had him itching to waltz upstairs and break that fucker’s nose for putting you through hell. But then he figured, it wasn’t his problem, and he had enough of those.

But it’s been quiet lately, and after putting two and two together, he’s realized it’s just you up there now. Just you, crying your heart out into the pillow before bed every night, scribbling in your journal in the morning, inviting friends over to distract yourself from the pain. The pain he wishes he could take away. He admits it, he’s grown fond of you. When you sing, he stops what he’s doing and drinks in the sound of it as if it were an angel’s song. He can’t help but overhear your conversations at times, can’t help but chuckle when you make a particularly funny quip. He doesn’t know what you look like, but he’s sure you’re as beautiful as you sound to him. How that ass couldn’t treat you right, he’ll never know.

He ignores your cry this time, the way he has for the last couple of weeks. But when he lays his head down on his pillow after another restless night on the streets and hears your whimpers, he simply can’t take it anymore. He throws on the first shirt he gets his hands on and a pair of grey sweats before racing up the flight of stairs keeping him from you. It’s only when he knocks on your door that it dawns on him he doesn’t have a plan.

His heart stops when he hears you shuffle inside, sucking in your breath and no doubt trying to conceal any visible evidence that you’d been crying. He hears the doorknob turn and the creak of the wood as he comes face to face with you.

“Hello.” you manage to say, your voice still a bit hoarse. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Matt. I live right below you.” he starts. He’s praying to every god that you can’t hear his heart panging in his chest. “I know this may seem odd to you, but I get the sense that you’re not okay. I mean, I used to hear some pretty crazy fights from up here with who I can only assume is your boyfriend-”

“Ex.” you interrupt him, arms crossed and eyes trained on the welcome mat beneath your bare feet. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Matt nods, taking a breath before continuing. “Right. The thing is, I’ve got a really good sense about these things. I don’t know, call it intuition. But let’s just say I’m not hearing any screaming matches anymore and, though that is a good thing, I can’t help but wonder if you need someone to talk to or just a hug or whatever you need.”

There’s a silence hanging in the air after he speaks. You watch him wring his hands together as he waits for your response. You also notice the way his sweet, brown eyes seem to look straight through you before you realize he can’t see you. 

“You want to give me a hug?” you ask, and Matt in your voice the way your mouth quirks into a tiny smile. “Because I’m crying over my asshole ex-boyfriend?”

“A hug, some takeout, a walk around town. Whatever you need.” he’s grinning too now. He picks up on the way you casually lean on your doorframe, arms still crossed.

“What are you, some kind of hero or something?” you joke, adding a faux air of suspicion to your tone. “Who sent you?”

Matt laughs openly at that, throwing his head back as he does. “No one sent me, I just don’t like to know there’s a pretty girl crying over some jackass in my immediate vicinity.”

“Not to be rude, but what makes you think I’m pretty?”

Matt just shrugs. “Call it intuition.” 

He definitely doesn’t need sight to feel the way your hand clutches his shirt and playfully tugs him through the door. It’s right then and there that Matt resolves on making your problems his problems as well.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @deadfables @misshale21 @dragonsfictavern @sweetercalypso @sheraayasher

[xylatox]

Another fic from Nina! And a lovely way to round off the Valentine event :))) I'm so looking forward to this fic!

Before I even started I read humour as horror (forgive my brain it loves to misread) and my heart deadass dropped LOL, unti my thoughts though :).

and each time, the quiet whispers of pity behind your back only grew louder. of course, you heard the hushed “shh, don't be so loud” that meant to show care—you had stopped paying attention to it long ago.— this breaks my heart, genuinely but reader is so real to stop pay attention to them. my heart further hurts that reader's soulmate bond feels like a complicated entanglement.

you looked up at soobin—another one of your colleagues, but not annoying one— and pressed your lips into a thin line. “i’m fine. please don’t join them in looking at me like i need pity, i beg you.” — I already love reader's bond with Soobin, like is absolutely adorable.

you shook your head, giving him that ‘are you serious?’ look. “soob, don’t start. you haven’t met them because you either work or play league." — LMFAO Soobin and I are the same, league really does just take up the time yknow.

Yeonjun and reader's first interaction:(( my heart, like—yeonjun froze. he hadn’t thought about it at all. it was almost funny—how he, the one who had that confident, almost intimidating aura, had somehow managed to make himself look like a complete idiot in front of his nice neighbour. not only had he lost his keys, but he also couldn’t think thirty minutes ahead. usually, he didn’t care much about what people thought of him, but he still expected himself to feel ashamed now. but he wasn’t. somehow, it felt like you wouldn’t see him that way—probably because you were just as awkward.— this has me smiling like an absolute idiot. Their banter is also super cute :( like eventhough they just met it's so casual yknow :((

he made a face, which was ten times funnier with his stuffed cheeks. “absolutely no,” yeonjun announced as he finally managed to swallow. “like, absolutely. you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. you just shrugged, your face sly, and he made an expression of pure horror. “don’t tell me—i can’t believe i’m living next door to a psychopath! were you lulling my vigilance for the past hours just to hit me with this news?”— justice for people who love pineapple on pizza 😞. Again to say, Nina, I absolutely love the way you managed to flow the conversation so easily.

you scrunched your nose. “nope. but don’t tell me it’s a yes from you,” you warned jokingly and he smirked in response. “and you dared to call me a psychopath?! you? a mint chocolate ice cream lover?” it was getting harder and harder to keep your laugh inside, especially as he kept on laughing himself, but you tried to do your best. “i’ll be much more careful while leaving home now.”— and justice for the mint choco icecream lovers too :(((

it felt like he was everywhere, coating every inch of your body; pain, just like honey, glazing every nerve—you could feel him tugging your hair, fist firm against the back of your head, could feel his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your thighs, craving to leave marks on you—you prayed they did—and his nails digging into your skin as he ran his hand down, leaving trails along your legs—just as burning and sweet as melted chocolate.— this is so absolutely insane oh my goodness. The entire dream was so insane?????screaming??? AND THE FACT THAT YEONJUN WENT THROUGG THE SAME THING?????? Oh. my. god.

The nickname for reader is so cute????I'm going to throw up. I love that Jun was able to free up his time for reader too, like thats so cute.

“baby,” he whispered, trying to lift your arms, but you only tried to wrap them around him, desperate for even a bit of his warmth. “we need to lower your temperature. please, let me take this off.”—I'm going to scream oh my god.

The way he took care of her, their marks, I'm so soft and :((.

This is the end if part 1, unto the next hehe :)) Nina, your writing is amazing.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀wild roses | chapter 1 ; the roots

⠀⠀⠀neighbour!yeonjun x fem!reader

♡ you're here ♡ | to chapter 2 →

genre ; soulmate au, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, humour, smut            wordcount ; 17.5k

warnings | tags ; unhealthy relationship with pain [mentions of self-inflicted pain]; yeonjun does some kinda questionable stuff; a bit of self-hate and self-pity.

smut warnings ; dom + soft sadist yeonjun x sub + soft masochist reader. wet dreams, heavily based on pain kink [choking, marking, spanking and so on]; male masturbation.

✉ notes ; oh wow... my first collaboration event ever and it was AWESOME. the idea was just incredible and i'm honoured to be a part of the event and write for the idea. i want to thank each one of beautiful talented moa who took part in the event, please-please-please, read other event fics, all of them are wonderful

i got a tiny bit carried away, so there are going to be two more parts. that just... happened. i was possesed

⠀⠀⠀[ event masterlist | my masterlist | wild roses masterlist ]

it felt like a cruel joke of fate, destiny, the universe or whatever force might be pulling the strings of your life. you were sure you could post an advertisement for your services—“spend a few days with me and find your soulmate. 100% guarantee”, because yet another one of your colleagues had returned from her vacation particularly glowing—she had met her, her soulmate, the one she had been waiting for her whole life. 

she couldn't keep quiet about it, and you couldn't blame her, despite the tiny, bitter part of your mind whispering that you were a lucky charm for everyone else, leaving yourself with nothing but emptiness and heartbreak. you'd only been working here for a year, and four of your colleagues had found their soulmates before your very eyes—five, including the one who had announced it today—and each time, the quiet whispers of pity behind your back only grew louder. of course, you heard the hushed “shh, don't be so loud” that meant to show care—you had stopped paying attention to it long ago. 

the bond you had once shared with your soulmate was a complicated one, tangled in endless conditions and rules, most of them uncertain, suspended between truth and myth. it had already felt impossible to navigate it, while you still had it, but now, when it was broken for years, finding them felt like a distant dream. you weren't even sure if they were still alive, if you were being honest, but thinking about it unsettled you to the point of near-physical pain, so you chose not to think about them at all.

your mind sometimes thought differently, though, keeping you awake until early morning and haunting you with visions of you staying alone until your last days. on those days you’d find yourself deleting your browser history in shame and embarrassment on your way to work—“would you know if your soulmate had died”, “is it possible to get another soulmate”, “is it possible to have more than one soulmate”, “wild rose bond”. you hated those nights and the days that followed, because your brain wouldn't stop overanalyzing everything you'd read, twisting every possibility into something even more unbearable—hope. 

but more than anything, you feared returning to the dark months after you had felt your soulmate for the last time. looking back, you wondered if their heartbreak had somehow resonated with your own—the one that had started just a few hours before. you had felt a faint sensation of nails dragging down your back from your shoulder blades, as if someone was scratching at your skin with their nails, but it wasn't your back, it was their back. you had thought you were devastated then, but a few hours later, when the real weight of it hit, you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore, and it wasn't your pain.

all of it plunged you into what was probably the darkest period of your life, making you realize how truly ugly your bond was, because it was either an endless cycle of intensifying pain—feeding off your soulmate’s suffering and giving it right back to them until it returned to you—or nothing at all. and when you woke up empty, feeling nothing foreign that had become an important part of you over the years, it was as if you had lost the constant touch of a lover. even if that touch had only ever caused pain, you still tried to get it back. 

you didn't know if you were trying to get your soulmate to respond to you, or if, in some twisted way, you were just to mimic the pain they had once caused you—desperate for anything that might keep you from feeling so utterly alone. but it never worked—they never replied and you never felt any relief. 

and now you felt yourself slowly sinking into that darkness again—the more happy stories told behind your back you heard, the stronger the itch in your fingers became. what if—just a tiny what if—they would reply to you if you pinched your arm just a little? what if they pinched back? what if you could finally do something you had wished for years you had done earlier—agree to meet somewhere through morse code? the sickening feeling of hope was so much worse than that mutual heartbreak had ever been. 

you shook your head—no. the “unbreakable bond” that was supposed to never fade—not by time, not even by death—was broken, and the was nothing you could do about it. maybe some people were simply meant to stay alone, and maybe you were one of them. so what? surely, you weren't the only unlucky one like that, there was no way everyone in this world had a person they were destined to live and die with. after all, you could be your own soulmate—at least that bond would never shatter.

the overly confident thoughts, which felt more like bravado than anything sincere even to you, took up all your attention, and you reached out for your coffee cup, completely forgetting it was still too hot. the burn on the pads of your fingers made you wince, a quiet "shit" slipping past your lips—all these existential crisis thoughts, that were creeping in more and more often recently, were making you a bit too careless, and that was a dangerous match to the way you were starting to perceive pain. again.

“you okay?”

you looked up at soobin—another one of your colleagues, but not annoying one— and pressed your lips into a thin line. “i’m fine. please don’t join them in looking at me like i need pity, i beg you.”

he smiled and shook his head. “wasn’t going to. you’re overthinking it, you know?” he glanced over your shoulder at the suddenly quiet, happy circle before returning his gaze to you. “well… you’re overthinking my behavior, i guess…”

you sighed—of course. “they’re looking, aren’t they?” he replied with a tiny nod, making you bury your face in your hands. “with pity?” you mumbled, your words muffled.

“yeah…” he admitted, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. he wasn’t one to enjoy much attention, but sitting across from you left him no choice when their conversations inevitably turned to soulmates. “hey,” he tried to get your attention, holding out his paper cup to you over both of your monitors. “it’s the same as yours, but not as hot anymore. haven’t drunk it either.”

the man was a savior sometimes. you took his cup, giving him yours. “thanks. what would i do without you?”

“drown in pity gazes and whispers?”

you laughed. “most probably.”

he smiled at you, glad that your face was no longer painted with ridiculously funny determination he knew you faked—trying to make yourself believe it—and got back to work, mirroring you.

but you had trouble focusing on your work anyway, and the worst part was your boss, who kept throwing worried glances at you whenever he passed by—it felt like a few more found soulmates in your branch, and he'd start asking if you wanted to take a day off or work from home for a few days whenever someone said. after all, whenever someone announced—because it was impossible to keep it inside—that they had found their soulmate, he always reacted the same way.

you already had the ick from the word—soulmates this, soulmates that. all those “don't worry, you're still young” reassurances coming from people you had met maybe three times in your life while making yourself a coffee in the office kitchen. it wasn't even about your age—though there were countless depressing myths about soulmates and age, especially when it came to wild roses—it was about the nature of the bond itself that made people pity you.

you had no idea why in the world they cared about their colleague—nothing more!—finding or not finding their soulmate. and worse, you'd never told anyone about your lack of one, nor about what kind of bond you had. yet, somehow, someone must have seen your mark—which wasn't too hard to notice, but the situation had to be very specific for anyone to actually see it—and now people knew about it before they had even met you, the rumours about you entering the room first. 

as if that wasn’t bad enough, at some point, they started matchmaking you with any soulmate-less new colleague. you were still sure those glances at you interacting with soobin meant something, just because he didn’t have a soulmate either. it was funny how they barely cared that he wasn't a wild rose—and you didn't even question how they never seemed to care about what the two of you actually thought of it, just being two introverts in an office full of extroverts. 

but soobin was nice enough not to care about it and was basically the only person here you talked to about something other than work, and you were thankful he was there for you without trying to assure you that you were still young and that your soulmate was still out there somewhere. he knew everything that had happened around your bond and understood that wild roses didn’t have it easy, so he never bothered you by feeding the hope you kept buried deep inside. 

“you know…” soobin started while you two were packing up to go home—you both started your workdays half an hour later than everyone else, meaning you stayed half an hour after everyone left, which was basically the reason for shifting your work hours in the first place. “i haven’t met my soulmate either, and…”

you shook your head, giving him that ‘are you serious?’ look. “soob, don’t start. you haven’t met them because you either work or play league.”

soobin laughed, nodding. “you’re right. but i just wanted to say that soulmate or no soulmate, it doesn’t define you—or anyone—as a person,” he smiled reassuringly, grabbing both of your jackets and handing you yours. “you’re perfectly complete without someone who was chosen for you by something unknown.”

you nodded, biting your lip and fidgeting with the pull on your jacket. he always knew what to say, and it was always sincere—probably, because he was in the same situation as you, but with a completely different perspective on it. soobin seemed much more mature than you could even hope to be. no—you pushed these thoughts away. you weren’t going to pity yourself. he was right—it made no sense. 

“thanks, soob. you always know the right words.”

he smiled. “i could say i’ve been there, but i think they bother me much less about not having a soulmate,” he scratched the back of his head in thought. “male advantage?” he assumed, and you both laughed—maybe it really was male advantage. “keep you company on your way home?”

you shook your head, checking the time. “you won’t be home by seven if you do,” you patted his shoulder, and he tilted his head in question. “it’s thursday. your league-i-promise-she-is-just-a-friend will be waiting for you,” you sing-songed, making him press his lips together in an attempt to hide his smile—a failing attempt—and you couldn’t help but mirror it.

soobin opened his mouth to tell you something, but it seemed like every thought he had about his “just friend” only made his smile grow bigger and harder to hide, so in the end he just shook his head with a shy but obviously happy smile. “okay. you sure you'll be fine?”

you nodded, giving him a quick goodbye hug. “completely. be safe too. and don't stay up too late!” you waved before turning around. soobin was a nice guy and deserved all the happiness in the world—you hoped things with his “just friend” would work out, whether she was his soulmate or not.

still, your head felt like a too-crowded beehive, a dozen thoughts overlapping each other, refusing to let you focus on any of them before stealing your attention away to another. you had a bond when you were younger. yes, now it was a distant memory that felt more like a dream—you weren’t even sure you would recall how it felt to experience someone else’s pain or discomfort, but you refused to believe you’d been imagining it for almost ten years of your life, ever since you first understood that some feelings weren’t caused by yourself.

and that connection… it was supposed to be unbreakable, because it was one of the strongest bonds between soulmates—it was based on pain. you could never stop experiencing it, even if it happened rarely, you would still burn your tongue on tea from time to time or hit your elbow in just that spot, and your soulmate would feel it, just as you would feel their pain—there was no way to break it. that’s what you thought, at least—before it was broken. 

these thoughts kept looping in your head, all the information you had read about the bond between wild roses throughout your life swirling in your mind, as if you hadn’t already gone over it hundreds of times, trying to find something you had overlooked—something that could solve the problem you had. but that kind of connection was surrounded by chaos of myths, assumptions, and lies from people pretending to be wild roses. you could never know what was true unless you experienced it yourself and, preferably, discussed it with the other end of the bond. 

and you weren’t even sure of what you had gone through yourself, because you had no idea what your soulmate had done for you to mirror their pain more intensely. it was believed that the strength of the pain you felt from your soulmate grew with distance, and you assumed that, a few years before the heartbreak and the breaking of your connection, they had moved far away from where you were—probably another side of the world. the faint touch of guitar strings on the tips of your fingers had become cruel, invisible marks and calluses, awakening a habit of scratching the pads of your fingers with your nails, trying to get rid of the sensation. the habit stayed—but because you missed the way it felt now. 

the quiet ding of the elevator pulled you out of your thoughts, even through your earbuds. you opened the case, carefully placing each one inside while waiting for the doors to open, and your soul almost left your body when they did, hand flying to your chest to calm your racing heart—a man was sitting on the floor, headphones on his head, too immersed in something on his phone to notice you.

you knew the man—he was your neighbour, but you had never really talked to him, so you weren’t exactly sure how to get his attention, especially since he was wearing headphones. so you stood in front of him like a complete weirdo, looking down at him, your brain still not fully functioning after a busy workday that was made worse by your overthinking. 

but you didn’t have to do anything—he noticed you almost immediately, looking up and quickly standing, pushing his headphones down to his neck. “oh! hey. don’t be freaked out, please,” he said, holding out his hand for a handshake. you hesitantly took it, shaking uncertainly—his hand felt… nice. “i’m your neighbour from—”

“apartment 139, yeah…,” you finished for him slowly, your hand still in his, now just held. “just across the hall. i see you sometimes, but you never greet back, always wearing headphones,” you shrugged—it wasn’t a big deal. he never seemed rude, more like he was always in his head, his hands and head making little weird moves, so you assumed he was dancing to the music in his headphones, the outside world forgotten.  

“oh…” he pulled his hand away and ran his fingers through his hair. “i’m sorry. i tend to get too into my work sometimes, not noticing anything or anyone around.”

you shrugged again, pulling your keys from your pocket, the bunch of keychains jingling softly. “it’s fine. just be careful on the streets. sometimes drivers are…” you scrunched your nose, and he chuckled. “reckless? some make me wonder if anyone can just go and buy a driver’s license now, without even graduating from elementary school, where they give you basic knowledge on traffic rules.” 

he looked at you with an amused smile, and you mentally slapped yourself—it was your first conversation, and you were already burdening him with the grumpiness of a ninety-year-old lady no one liked. no wonder your soulmate had broken the bond even before meeting you, the thought made you smile mentally despite how bitter it actually was—it was a good joke. you made a note to repeat it to soobin tomorrow when telling him about encountering your neighbour. 

but he only laughed, nodding a few times. “i see where you’re coming from. you can never be too careful when it comes to traffic,” he adjusted his headphones, turning them to rest on his collarbones with the ear pads facing in, and your gaze fell to the bare skin of his upper chest for a brief moment, making you involuntarily touch the tight collar of your t-shirt. 

“so…” you fidgeted with the strap of your bag nervously—small talk was nice and, dare you to say, comfortable, especially considering you'd never talked to him before, but he couldn't be sitting here for no reason, could he? “what happened?.. i mean, why were you sitting here?”

“oh! right,” he cleared throat. “i lost my keys. i was going to call for locksmith services, but i don't want to lockpick the door to the corridor,” he paused, because it suddenly started sounding stupid, but shook his head—too late to rethink it now. “so i was waiting for someone to open it.”

you nodded a few times, and he let out a breath—at least you weren't looking at him like he was a complete idiot, and he certainly felt like one. you simply took the key and opened the door to the corridor, letting him in before locking it behind you—he thought that he probably should've been nicer to you instead of just giving a tiny nod as a greeting once every few weeks, which, as it turned out, you didn’t even notice. 

he dialed the locksmith service, throwing glances at you as you unlocked your door. he noticed you pause, your key still in the lock, fingers rubbing it nervously as you stared at it, seemingly lost in thought. he wanted to ask you if everything was okay, but the moment he opened his mouth, a man on the other end of the phone line introduced himself and asked how he could help. 

you glanced at your neighbour as he turned away, still on his phone, his hand rubbing the back of his head. eavesdropping wasn’t good, but you wondered—if the locksmith was going to take some time to arrive, maybe he’d need a place to wait? you could invite him in… he seemed like a nice person, so— you shook your head, he’d probably prefer to wait at the convenience store across the street. with that, you pulled the key out and opened the door. 

“at least half an hour?” he asked, checking the watch before chuckled. “of course. not like i have any other choice,” he listened to whatever the person on the other end was saying before nodding. “yes, five minutes is fine. thank you,” the ‘beep’ of the ended call was almost loud in the empty corridor as he turned to look at you, still standing by your ajar door. “thank you. really,” he smiled warmly. “i’m yeonjun, by the way. it was nice to meet you.”

“[ yn ]...” you replied quietly, still debating whether you should invite him in—half an hour seemed long, but then again, sometimes waiting for an elevator to arrive could take five whole minutes. if he was unlucky, he’d only have time to buy something at the convenience store before having to come right back. no, you thought. don’t be stupid. “it was nice to meet you too,” you almost shut your front door when you realized how much of an idiot you were—just a few minutes ago you basically locked him in the corridor. “wait.”

“huh?” yeonjun looked up from his phone, confused. ‘wait’ for what?.. not like he had anywhere to go right now.

you grabbed the spare key to the corridor door from the key rack and walked up to him, holding it out. “here. you lost yours, and i have a spare one, so you can take it,” you felt so stupid, but it was too late to back out now. “for now or til you get a new one or… or you can keep it,” you finished quietly, each word sounding worse than the last.

yeonjun smiled and shook his head. “i have another one at home, don’t worry. i won’t need it until then anyway, i was going to wait here.” 

you pressed your lips together, cheeks burning, before asking quietly. “how would a locksmith get inside here?..” 

yeonjun froze. he hadn’t thought about it at all. it was almost funny—how he, the one who had that confident, almost intimidating aura, had somehow managed to make himself look like a complete idiot in front of his nice neighbour. not only had he lost his keys, but he also couldn’t think thirty minutes ahead. usually, he didn’t care much about what people thought of him, but he still expected himself to feel ashamed now. but he wasn’t. somehow, it felt like you wouldn’t see him that way—probably because you were just as awkward. 

he took the key from your hand, the little rose keychain getting his attention, as its tiny silver thorns nestled against his skin. yeonjun looked up at you, puzzled—a rose keychain wasn’t strange on its own, he had seen countless of them, but most didn’t have a stem, let alone thorns. he felt his heart skip a beat—the small silver trinket reminded him of a part of himself that he tried to ignore. you only shook your head, though, clearly telling him to not pay any attention to it. but he still didn’t like coincidences like that one. 

you nodded goodbye to him one more time and had already turned away before pausing and biting your lip. “look,” you said before you could stop yourself, turning back to face him. the worst thing that could happen? he would decline, and things between you two would get awkward. but—if you were honest—what things? there were no ‘things’ between you two. you took a deep breath. “you can wait for the locksmith at my place, if you want. it’s warm, and you wouldn’t have to sit on the floor or stand for half an hour. if you want.”

it was inviting. it sounded really nice, actually. yeonjun already felt like his butt was as flat as the floor he’d been sitting on for an hour before you appeared and saved him from what he jokingly thought of as flat-butt disease. but you had just met—neighbours or not—and even though he knew he had no ill intentions, he wasn’t sure you felt the same way. making you feel uncomfortable or, worse, unsafe in your own home was the last thing he wanted. “are you sure it'd be fine? we just learned each other's names a few minutes ago.”

“well…” you frowned and tilted your head—what kind of things was he thinking about? “yes?.. i mean, do you have any… bad intentions?”

yeonjun was taken aback by your question. “um, no?” oh god, pull yourself together, yeonjun! why do you sound so unsure? he cleared his throat and repeated more firmly. “of course, not. but… is that it? you're just going to believe my ‘no’ and let me in?”

you took a few steps toward your door, glad to see him following you. “yep?.. do you really think maniacs would ask in the first place?” you asked him, opening the door and stepping aside to let him in.

yeonjun glanced at you, narrowing his eyes. “do you really think maniacs would just say ‘yeah, of course, i have all the bad intentions in the world’? it sounds…” he tapped his chin, pretending to think. “naïve?”

“yeah? then why would you put these thoughts into my head? sounds like you’re giving me a lesson on how to spot a maniac,” you said, hanging your jacket on the coat rack and pointing at the free hook next to it. yeonjun immediately got the hint and hung his jacket there too, without letting either of you get distracted from the conversation. “so—” you glanced down at his shoes. “i can give you slippers, if you want. brand new. still unpacked even,” you added, waiting for his nod and little ‘thanks’ before continuing. “so. why would one of them do it? give me a lesson on it, i mean.”

yeonjun let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “to lull your vigilance, of course. to make you ask yourself exactly that question and come up with an answer that it doesn't make any sense for a maniac to explain things like that, so it can only mean that this person isn't one,” he ‘explained’, waiting for you to take your shoes off and walk further into the apartment before crouching down to untie his sneakers—he didn’t want to risk making you feel uncomfortable, like he was looking up your skirt. 

“ah, really?” you held the slippers out to him. “why would you—or maniac—tell me that, then? why give further explanation?” you asked, waiting for him to put the slippers on and grab his bag before leading him toward the kitchen. you were enjoying this conversation a lot. maybe even a bit too much, but who cared? “no, no, no, let me answer it myself. to lull my vigilance?”

“exactly!” yeonjun sat down on the bar stool, his smile wide—not because you got something ‘right’ in that silly little banter, but because it felt so comfortable. he couldn't believe you two had never talked before, given how easy it seemed for both of you. “the same thing, but a bit more layered.”

“wow, you seem like a really thought-out maniac, yeonjun. just piling on layers to lull my vigilance,” you sighed in exaggerated awe, pressing a hand to your chest with a little bow of your head. “it's an honour.”

“well,” he shrugged nonchalantly, straightening his back in mock pride. “just doing my best at everything, you know?” 

you let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. he was… cute. funny too, and so easy to talk to—it felt like you had known him your whole life but had just forgotten. it wasn't unusual for you to get loud or talkative, but you usually needed more time to get used to someone before feeling comfortable enough to do so—much more time. but it wasn't like that with yeonjun; he made you feel at ease around him almost immediately. you assumed it was his confident aura that didn't waver even when he was being playful or silly. that level of confidence, unspoiled by arrogance, was truly admirable.

you bit your lip, though—you weren't sure how to reply, but you gaze fell on the coffee machine. “do you want something to drink, by the way?..” you asked, washing your hands in the kitchen sink. “i don't actually have too many bottled drinks, but i have a coffee machine, ice and a bunch of syrups, or i can make you tea.”

it actually sounded tempting. yeonjun still had a bit of his coffee when he left the elevator on this floor and realized he had lost his keys, but that was long gone. he hadn’t risked leaving the spot to buy something to drink, afraid someone would come home while he was away, so now he was pretty much thirsty. but he wasn’t sure if he preferred burdening you over just waiting for half an hour, so he shook his head. 

“no, thank you. but… do you mind if i wash my hands?” yeonjun asked, getting up and rubbing his palms on his jeans. and then what? what was he going to do when he came back after washing his hands? he wasn't socially awkward, but staying with a barely-not-a-stranger in a small space with no one else around—and no alcohol to loosen the atmosphere? he should've just agreed to the coffee to make things a bit less awkward for both of you—he doubted you'd eat or drink something while he was just sitting there. was it too late to say he'd changed his mind?

“oh! kitchen sink or…” you walked out of the kitchen and he followed you, standing next to the kitchen door in the hall. you pointed at a door. “the bathroom is the only door to the right. a small gray towel on the towel rail is for hands, and…” you turned your head to look at him, still leaning on the door frame with the front of your shoulder. “i can bring you another towel if you want to rinse your face or anything. it was washed and dried that morning, so you can be sure it wasn't used.”

yeonjun blinked a few times, looking at you, his mind completely blank—he couldn't even find the words to describe how… adorably weird everything you were doing and saying was. why would you ask him if he wanted to wash his face? it was fine and clean—he had checked in the mirror by the door when he entered out of habit—but you were still unbelievably nice, offering another towel in case he wanted to do it. it felt like the thoughts in your head were completely random, yet it was interesting that you weren't afraid to say them out loud. 

“no, thanks. just hands,” yeonjun said, giving you a small smile before following the direction you had pointed to.

you watched him shut the door before turning back to the kitchen—it wasn't that you felt like you had to keep an eye on him, making sure he didn't wander somewhere he wasn’t supposed to, it was just somehow he already occupied your thoughts, and you only snapped out of it when he disappeared behind the door. but as you sat at the bar table, your overthinking started again. everything was… weird. good, but still weird. you’d never met someone you clicked with this quickly, and it felt almost… suspicious.

you threw a glance toward the bathroom as if you could see through walls, before shaking your head—you had been overthinking too much lately. if you were honest, you always did. maybe it was time to stop thinking and just… be? just accept that you had met someone you felt comfortable with immediately, without questioning it? making new friends—ever heard of it? you thought. yep. it was time to just live your life without looking back at any soulmate issues—past, present, or future.

yeonjun found you with a strangely determined expression on your face and chuckled to himself. he liked that you were like an ajar book—not fully open yet, but easy enough for him to read at least your basic emotion, and it also seemed like you weren’t trying too hard to hide them either. he thought that maybe he should be just as honest.

he cleared his throat, getting your attention. “i know i said no,” he started when you looked up at him, all your focus on him immediately, “but i think i’d actually like something to drink,” yeonjun admitted, watching you standing up immediately to start preparing something, but he was quick to reassure you. “water would be fine, though.”

you paused, hand on the cupboard, looking at him. “water would be ‘fine’ or ‘preferred’?..” you asked, unsure if it sounded too blunt—you didn’t want to sound pushy or impolite, but you could make him something specific, if he wanted. it wasn’t a problem. 

yeonjun hesitated, but admitted nevertheless. “to be honest, i wouldn't say no to some tea. i guess it's a bit too late for an americano,” he smiled warmly, sitting back where he was sitting before, his eyes following your movements. 

he was surprised to see how excited you got, reaching for a box on the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, the tips of your fingers trying to grab it. he had to almost force himself to stay where he was, resisting the urge to rush over and help you—the scene inside his head immediately played out in slow motion, filmed in third-person with a random lyrical song and that weird corner-whitening effect they always used in dramas for moments like this. he cringed at the thought.

yeonjun still kept an eye on you in case you asked for help or needed it if everything started tumbling down, but you successfully won that round against heights and gravity, placing the now-open box in front of him. it was filled with different colourful foil bags—he was sure anyone would find something they liked here.

“you can choose any you want,” you said, grabbing the kettle to fill it with water the moment he nodded and started going through the box. you turned the kettle on and were about to sit back down when you suddenly realized you were still wearing your office clothes. “do you mind if i go change?..” you asked hesitantly, but yeonjun only nodded.

“of course. i promise to behave,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender, smiling—and making you smile back—before you disappeared around the corner, and he returned to choosing tea, wondering which one both of you would like. 

you tried to change quickly, not wanting to make yeonjun wait, but you froze the moment your gaze fell on your reflection—the t-shirt you were about to put on still in your hands. a huge mark, resembling a thorned rose stem, stretched from your left collarbone down to your right ribs, crossing your chest in a jagged line, and stood out even in the dim light of your bedroom. 

involuntarily, you pressed your fingers to the top thorn, right under your collarbone, as if expecting to feel it pierce the skin of your fingertips. it didn't, though—of course, it didn't—the skin felt the same as the rest, smooth and unbroken. if you didn't look at it, you wouldn't even realize it was there—you wished it was that way. ut no, you knew every detail of it. you knew the exact placement of each thorn, each uneven ridge in the stem. you knew where it started and where it ended. you could draw it with your eyes closed and get every millimeter right. 

the way you tugged the t-shirt on was almost harsh, the tight collar scratching your nose slightly on its way down—you just wanted to hide that reminder as soon as possible, even though you knew you couldn't keep running from it forever. one day, you would have to accept it as part of you—which it was—and stop seeing it as a reminder of your broken future, misfortune, and a cruel fate. but not today. maybe, one day, your view on it would change naturally, when the way you saw soulmates did?..

but for now, you would opt for t-shirts with tight collars and turtlenecks, whenever someone else might see you. alone? crop tops and tank tops were fine—if you tried to avoid looking at the mark—but not in public, and not in front of someone you barely knew. for many other reasons too, of course. 

when you entered the kitchen again, yeonjun was almost done choosing the last kind of tea—he grabbed the foil package from the box and placed it on the table next to six others. he turned to you, a bit surprised at your precise timing, and gestured toward the table. “i chose the ones i’d like to try. the final choice is yours,” he said with a smile, leaning his back on the wall and watching you. 

his choices were great. at first, you thought about suggesting that each of you make tea in your own cup to avoid drinking something you didn’t like, but all seven options were good, so you could actually brew tea in the teapot for both of you. 

you took two packages and placed it closer to him. “one of these. i can't choose,” you said, turning to the kitchen counter to grab the teapot and pour hot water into it, bringing it to the table along with two cups. yeonjun handed you the tea bag that he had chosen, and you dropped it into the teapot, waiting for the tea to brew.

as yeonjun busied himself putting the packages back into the box, the kitchen fell into silence. it wasn't the tense, uncomfortable kind of silence you might expect—it was a soft one, where both of you seemed to be lost in thoughts without worrying about getting silently judged for not supporting some awkward small talk. it felt like either of you could start or continue a conversation easily whenever you wanted, so there was no need in trying to fill the air with meaningless, forced words.

you were already sipping your tea, when yeonjun's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “there’s a lot of handmade stuff,” he noted, looking at the wall to the side of you. you followed his gaze and nodded, waiting for him to continue. “a great variety too. sewing, collages, patchwork, crocheting, pressed flowers, diamond mosaic… have you done all of that?”

you nodded, taking another tiny sip—your tea was still too hot. “yep. all of these were done by me,” you said, glancing over the countless little handmade things scattered all over the wall, and it felt like you lwere looking at them from a completely different perspective than before. “but i do none of these seriously. it was… some kind of attempt to find myself,” you admitted. a failed one, you added mentally. none of these felt completely you. 

“successful?” yeonjun asked, his gaze fixed on a small patchwork of a rose, the only rose work out of a dozen—it would’ve been almost cute with the pale pink flower, some parts not sewn to the canvas, giving it some volume, but, just like the keychain, this one had thorns, carefully stitched onto the dark green stem. he lifted his hand to touch them almost unintentionally, but stopped, glancing at you.

“you can touch,” you said, and he gently pressed his finger to the top thorn of the rose, making your heart skip a beat. the stem was a smaller version of the mark you had on your chest—you made it in hope it would help with accepting your hopeless soulmate situation—and it felt strange, seeing how gently and cautiously yeonjun's fingers caressed it exactly where your own fingers had been not so long ago. you shook these thoughts away, though—close stitches were just nice to touch. “but no. not successful, as you can see in variety,” you chuckled.

yeonjun hummed—your works looked neat, at least in the eyes of someone who only knew the names of some of them, so if these were some of your first works of every kind… you were impressive. “do you like roses?” he blurted out and immediately realized the question made no sense—your apartment wasn’t full of roses, he had focused on only two things just because of his own issues.

but you simply shook your head and let out a tiny, sincere laugh. “i don’t. hate them, actually,” you admitted, making him nod in acknowledgement. “i know it makes no sense that i made that one—” you threw a glance at the patchwork he had been paying so much attention to. 

“no, it’s fine,” yeonjun interrupted. “i can see why you’d want to make it despite disliking roses. the picture itself is beautiful,” he said. he used to hate roses too, but he’d learned to only hate one. he caressed the length of the stem one last time, not noticing the way you swallowed thickly at his words and movements, eyes glued to his finger. he turned to you with a smile. “i have a silly question, but i assume you cross-stitched too, and i’ve always been curious about something.”

the speed with which yeonjun switched topics almost gave you whiplash, but you tried to compose yourself. “uh, yes. yes, when i was a child. not a too enjoyable activity for me, but i did.” 

he tapped the pad of his finger with his nail as if imitating a needle. “do people often pierce themselves while cross-stitching?” 

you tilted your head—the question wasn’t exactly weird, but it was unexpected. “i don’t think so?..” you weren’t completely sure, since you’d never really discussed it with anyone—you’d only had your own experience. “i mean, you might when you only start, but you learn to avoid it pretty quickly, and pierce your skin on accident to the point where it hurts, maybe… a few times in a few projects?” 

yeonjun hummed, his thumb rubbing the pad of his pointer finger on his left hand. maybe they were just careless?.. or it wasn’t cross-stitching at all? what else could it be, then? just sewing? 

you thought for a second before continuing. “but… i guess some people use their finger pad to feel the needle while piercing the fabric or canvas?..” you said, uncertain if that’s what he wanted to know or if it made any sense in general. “you know… instead of turning the canvas back and forth, you just control the needle with one finger on the back and another one in the front,” you tried to mimic the moves but it looked ridiculous. “it doesn’t really pierce the skin, but it’s technically poking your finger with a needle constantly…”

yeonjun frowned, trying to recall the feeling. “does it hurt? or is it just uncomfortable?” 

but before you could reply, his phone buzzed, breaking the conversation. he threw a quick glance at the number and grabbed the phone, accepting the call hurriedly, mouthing ‘locksmith’ to you. you nodded, watching his back as he rushed to the front door, quickly tugging his sneakers on, phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder, the rose keychain attached to the corridor key dangling out of his back pocket.

you felt… weird. it was a long-forgotten feeling, so you didn’t recognize it at first, but you felt like a child whose best friend's parents had come to pick them up from kindergarten, so not only you were left without your best friend, but alone in general, because the other children had already left, and you were left to wait for your own parents. longing and disappointment were a bit too strong of words for that, but it felt like them, in that childish way. 

yeonjun stopped in the middle of tying his shoe, though, listening to what the person on the other side had to say, before slowly untying his shoes and taking them off. he ended the call and turned to you, making you look at him in question. 

“something happened, and they had to move me further in order…” he mumbled, sitting back, embarrassed now at the way he’d hurried to leave the table. he only wanted to deal with the locksmith as quickly as possible so he could get back and continue talking to you, but by the way you looked at him—a tiny bit like a beaten-up puppy—he realized that it looked completely opposite of that. “they said i have to wait for an hour or two. they’ll call ten minutes before arrival.”

you nodded, rubbing the edge of the cup nervously. was he going to leave, as he now had much more time to go back home from some cafe and didn’t have to stay at your place? you didn’t want him to, but at the same time… you wouldn’t be surprised. 

yeonjun, on the other hand, was unsure how to show that he wanted to stay without making you feel like you had to let him stay if you didn't want to. but… food was always an option, wasn’t it? “it’s around time for dinner. are you hungry?” 

“oh!” you didn’t even realize that you were hungry, too consumed by the conversation. you stood up and went to the fridge. “i can cook somethi—” you paused, your shoulders falling—it was almost empty. just some snacks, milk and an egg. you were going to go to the convenience store after changing into something more comfortable, but that lost keys situation messed it up.

yeonjun looked over your shoulder at the fridge, holding back a chuckle—a typical fridge of a bachelorette (he assumed you were one based on the way your apartment looked), his own looked exactly the same. but it actually made the situation much better. “i can order something if you want? or we can go somewhere,” he proposed. “a friendly dinner as a thank you for giving me a place to wait.”

you froze for a second—he wanted to stay? you cleared your throat. “ordering something sounds great,” you admitted, shutting the fridge and sitting back. “i’m craving pizza, to be honest.” 

he smiled widely. you didn’t want him to leave—it was great. “pizza it is!” he unlocked his phone, laying it on the table between you two. “choose anything you want.”

you started scrolling through the app. “i’m the host, i’m paying…” you mumbled, adding a pizza and a drink to the order. yeonjun replied with a little ‘mhm’, turning the phone to himself. you wish, baby, he thought, choosing food for himself. 

of course, you didn’t pay. yeonjun had sworn he chose the “pay on delivery” option and even took your card when the doorbell rang. his face had been so trustworthy, you didn’t think twice. but it turned out his skill at lulling your vigilance was far better than you could expected. when he walked into the kitchen carrying the pizza boxes and a plastic bag of drinks, his expression was one of absolute shock. he announced that something had gone wrong—the order was already paid for. and, of course—how could you doubt him?—he had absolutely nothing to do with it. perhaps, he suggested, some kind soul (most likely a very handsome one, he added) had paid for it instead.

yeonjun had a way to make the atmosphere around him lighter and people around him more comfortable, you didn’t have to spend too much time figuring it out. but he also seemed to be stubborn—if he wanted to do something and thought it was right, he would do it, or find a way to do it if he was told not to. and he didn’t feel any remorse for that. but at the same time it was… fine? you didn’t want to confront him about paying for pizza, because you could easily find a way to return the favour some time later. ‘later’. the word made you feel warm inside, and you pushed all the questioning thoughts aside. yes. later.

“so,” you got yeonjun’s attention and he looked up at you, his mouth full of pizza—as if he tried to push the whole slice into his mouth without biting, which was almost cute—so you continued. “pineapple on pizza. yes or no?” 

he made a face, which was ten times funnier with his stuffed cheeks. “absolutely no,” yeonjun announced as he finally managed to swallow. “like, absolutely. you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. you just shrugged, your face sly, and he made an expression of pure horror. “don’t tell me—i can’t believe i’m living next door to a psychopath! were you lulling my vigilance for the past hours just to hit me with this news?” 

you couldn’t help but laugh your heart out at his endless drama skills, and he obviously had troubles keeping up the act and not laughing too. “it’s not that bad, yeonjun. don’t be so judgy! did you know,” you pointed at him with a pizza crust before biting into it, “that sweet and sour sauce is heavily based on pineapple juice?” 

yeonjun rolled his eyes dramatically. “everyone knows it, girl. but it’s different,” he made a huge accent on the last word. “okay. my turn. mint choco ice cream.”

you scrunched your nose. “nope. but don’t tell me it’s a yes from you,” you warned jokingly and he smirked in response. “and you dared to call me a psychopath?! you? a mint chocolate ice cream lover?” it was getting harder and harder to keep your laugh inside, especially as he kept on laughing himself, but you tried to do your best. “i’ll be much more careful while leaving home now.” 

“actually,” yeonjun tried to say it through laughter, but was completely failing. “it makes you a psychopath one more time, because mint choco is awesome! so you’re a double psychopath while i,” he pointed into his chest, “a poor victim of someone with questionable taste.” 

you shook your head—you felt so full, content and comfortable now, it was almost unbelievable, but you loved it. “okay, expect a few tones of mint choco ice cream at your door as revenge for your shameless lie about paying for pizza.”

yeonjun laughed. “you don’t really understand the concept of revenge or punishment, do you?” 

“invite me when you’re trying to find a way to store it, and ask me that one more time,” you stuck your tongue out at him, your cheeks already sore from laughing and smiling. “you’ll be watching it slowly melt while not being able to do anything about it, because you don’t have enough cold space.”

yeonjun pressed his hand to his chest, absolute terror all over his face. “a psychopath, no doubt… will you tie me down and feed me pineapple pizza next?” he asked, doing his best to keep his face straight.

“well, if that’s what gets you going…” you winked at him, but the ridiculousness of the exchange made you crack into a grin and laughter. 

he moved a bit closer to you over the table and whispered. “really wanna know?” he winked back at you, but he was so bad at it, basically just blinking with both of his eyes, making your smile only bigger.

“okay-okay, keep it to yourself, perv,” you replied through laughter, and yeonjun moved back with a grin of a winner, grabbing another pizza slice. 

talking with him was easy—he knew so much, able to continue basically any conversation, but most of them still were silly and ridiculous. you talked about everything and nothing at the same time, getting to know each other better all the while. yeonjun was a choreographer and a dance teacher. he used to be a dancer in his late teenage years, but eventually started giving lessons, making his own choreography and, well, giving lessons on his own choreography. he joked about missing the sore muscles after endless dance practices some days but always reminded himself he wasn’t that young anymore.

at some point you both somehow stumbled into a soulmate topic. it was a pure accident—you wouldn’t be able to recall how it happened or what led to it even if you tried, but you quickly changed the subject to friends, and you could swear he looked relieved for a second before composing himself. but even just a few words were enough for you two to realize that you both had some issues in that area and wandered around soulmate-less. 

you barely even noticed how another hour passed, and yeonjun’s phone buzzed with a call from the locksmith. he didn’t rush to take the call that time, though, knowing it’d only mean that this tiny two-people party was over, as if the longer he would take to answer, the more time he’d get with you. but he knew it didn’t work that way, so he accepted the call and listened to the locksmith, who was saying he’d be there in ten minutes.

yeonjun ended the call, and stayed still for a second, looking at his phone screen before tapping a few times and holding it out for you. “save your number, please. or kakao id. whichever you prefer more.” 

you hesitated, but he shook the phone softly to hurry you a bit, and you obeyed, taking it and typing your kakaotalk id in the “add friend” section. you paused, thinking of a way to save yourself, throwing a quick glance at yeonjun. he wasn’t so smiley and warm anymore, clearly dissatisfied—you were surprised how strongly his mood affected the atmosphere around him. or was it affecting just you?.. you typed in the safest option you could come up with—‘[ yn ], apt. 138’ —and tapped “add” before handing his phone back.

yeonjun looked at his screen, noticing the ridiculous name, small smile appearing on his face, as he quickly opened the editor and changed it to ‘little psycho’. he made sure you could see it just to witness your reaction, and he didn’t regret it a second, because you looked at him with one of the cutest angry expressions he had ever seen—your lips in a small pout and brows frowned.

“i’ll save you as ‘mr. maniac’ then,” you stated, but it only made him smile. you realized you were happy to make him smile and be the reason why he stopped being a thundercloud with tiny lightnings all around him—even if it was just for a second. 

“please, do. i like the way ‘mr. maniac’ and ‘little psycho’ sound,” yeonjun said, checking the watch—he had to go soon. “i’ll even put red velvet’s ‘psycho’ as your ringtone, hm?” he proposed it like it was the best idea in the world, smug about coming up with it. the lyrics flew quickly in your mind, making you press your lips together, and he noticed it immediately. “no, nevermind, sorry—”

but you composed yourself quickly. “but only if you’re getting stray kids’ ‘maniac’ as yours. fair and square,” you said, trying to keep the most serious face you could manage, holding out your hand to “seal the agreement”. yeonjun took it just as seriously, shaking it a few times, but not letting go when it was clearly time to do so. you tilted your head in question, and that was the moment you realized you should never expect anything good from that man.

yeonjun stood up from the bar stool, placing his other hand behind his back and bowing slightly as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. “deal, milady,” he said, a foxy smile playing on his face—you were sure he wasn’t even trying to hide it, no attempt to pretend not to do it on purpose just to play with you! 

you narrowed your eyes at him, turning your hand a bit to pinch the skin between his thumb and index finger, making him tsk at you, but it quickly turned into a chuckle when he noticed the way you hissed as his ring scratched exactly the same spot on your hand. 

yeonjun's grin grew bigger at that. of course, he didn't do it on purpose, but it was funny nevertheless—the way your intent to “hurt him” turned against yourself. “the revenge was quick that time, wasn't it?” he asked mockingly, with no actual bite to his words, and somehow he was sure you knew it. his phone buzzed, though, and he realized he’d lost track of time again. “i’ll text you, okay? ‘mr. maniac’. don't forget,” he warned jokingly, trying to make you smile as he saw your face slowly falling. 

you nodded and followed him to the front door, watching him open the corridor door for the locksmith and let him in. they both came closer to you, the man asking for yeonjun's id to confirm he was living there. you almost retreated to your own apartment, not wanting to create a crowd when it obviously wasn't needed, when your eyes fell on yeonjun's wallet that he had taken out to get his id. inside, in a small window people usually used for photos, was a tiny pink pressed rose bud, the little flower made your heart skip a beat. why would he have something like that?.. even the locksmith's question didn't tear your attention away from it; it was yeonjun's soft, almost concerned ‘[ yn ]?’ that pulled you out of your head.

it was impossible to describe how embarrassed you were, trying to quickly recall what the question had been. “uh, yes, that man is my neighbour. of a few years,” you said quickly, and the locksmith nodded, giving yeonjun his id back and saying something about two confirmations being better than one, to which you only nodded absentmindedly, image of the flower still in front of your eyes. 

you waved yeonjun goodbye and mumbled something about having a good day to the locksmith before disappearing behind your door—completely unaware of yeonjun’s worried look.

the moment the door was locked, the last ‘click’ going through the heavy air, you realized how stupid you were for overthinking it—it was probably a little nothing from someone important. a girlfriend, perhaps. yes, he didn't have a soulmate, but that didn’t mean people who hadn’t met their soulmate couldn’t date anyone else—after all, your own soulmate did the same thing so many years ago. and you wouldtoo, you admitted to yourself, given the opportunity—that endless chase for someone who was god knows where, if they even were, was exhausting.

you didn’t even turn away from the door yet when your watch buzzed and you saw ‘be a cute psycho, not a sad psycho ;)’ on the screen. you looked into the peephole, and there he was—sending his failing wink at you and making you smile. you unlocked your phone and sent a quick ‘okay, mr. maniac’, accepting his friend request and changing ‘choi yeonjun’ to the nickname he wanted. you thought for a second before taking a screenshot of his name and sending it to him, getting a reply almost immediately—’good girl’. you paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to reply, when another message came in: ‘tell me when i’m too much, okay? don’t put up with my behaviour if it makes you uncomfortable’. it was nice—really nice, warmth spilling inside, as you sent ‘okay. but it’s fine so far, don’t worry’.

the conversation didn’t stop there—just like you two were talking about everything and nothing when yeonjun was sitting in your kitchen, you continued talking through texts, completely losing track of time—friends, families, funny stories from work. turned out he was three handshakes away from you—one of the guys who took yeonjun’s dance lessons about a year ago and became his good friend was regularly playing league with soobin. the guy he moved to japan a few months ago and kept complaining to yeonjun that his playing buddy chose a girl over him until three of them started playing together. 

it was past midnight when yeonjun said that it was time for you two to sleep, and you couldn’t even fight him on it—you tried to, but he kept correcting your sleepy typos instead of answering, and you quickly realized once again it was useless to go against him, because he would find a way to get everything done his way. so you wished him sweet dreams and locked your phone, putting it on the bedside table, your sleepy gaze still glued to it. you hoped yeonjun wasn’t finding you annoying—you liked talking to him. 

just like your head was full of him for the previous few hours, your last thoughts before finally falling asleep were the same.

the pain caused by him was delicious. it reminded you of caramel—his touches were drawn-out, hot and so, so sweet. no pleasure had ever come close to the sweetness of the pain he was inflicting upon you—he took his time, making you savour everything he was giving you and crave more. 

it felt like he was everywhere, coating every inch of your body; pain, just like honey, glazing every nerve—you could feel him tugging your hair, fist firm against the back of your head, could feel his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your thighs, craving to leave marks on you—you prayed they did—and his nails digging into your skin as he ran his hand down, leaving trails along your legs—just as burning and sweet as melted chocolate. 

his fingers around your neck felt like the only necklace you would ever want to wear from now on—hand firm, warm and sweet too. if only he tightened his hand—he did so immediately, making you roll your eyes and part your lips, and he didn't let the opportunity go to waste, sliding his index and middle finger into your mouth, the other ones and thumb digging into the gentle skin of your cheeks. 

but the most delicious pain was brought by his teeth, sinking into the skin of your neck and chest, holding it as he sucked the soft surface in, making the lonely thorny stem on your chest bloom, as he held you pressed into him. it was as if he wanted to merge you together, never letting you leave him, and you would beg him to even sew you two together just to never stop feeling that pain. would beg for more of it. 

you felt him part your legs, one hand still on your neck, another one digging fingers into the inside of your thigh as he opened you for him, sinking his teeth into the flesh of the other thigh. he leaned in, and the feeling of his warm breath between your legs made you lose the last shred of sanity you still had after all the sweet torture he put you through. at least, you thought so until his wet, warm tongue pressed against your aching clit. 

you arched your back, clenching the bed sheet in your hands. “yeonjun—” you choked out, eyes flying open, heart pounding in your chest. the ceiling of your bedroom felt pressing and heavy, trying to bury you under its weight, as if the guilt and disgust at your own dreams weren't heavy enough. 

everywhere his hands had been just mere moments ago felt dirty, as if every inch of you was covered in filth instead of the sweet honey his touches had coated you in. you wanted nothing more than to go shower and scratch away the remnants of the disgusting dream you’d had, but even the thought of touching yourself—not sexually, just touching yourself anywhere—made you want to throw up.

yeonjun was nothing but kind to you, making you feel warm and comfortable, asking if you were fine with his behaviour almost on the clock, and you paid him with having a fucking wet dream. not even a soft vanilla one—though, that one wouldn't have made the situation much better—but a dirty one, where you craved him to hurt you, and absolutely nothing was fine about it. it was that stupid masochism again, the one you tried so hard to ignore.

you sat up slowly, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling between your legs—you touched the fabric and it was basically soaked, feeling under the pads of your fingers adding to the guilt, because you weren't sure when was the last time you'd been that wet. you had to pull your panties off just not to feel your wetness against your skin—cool night air making you hiss.

the floor was cold under your bare feet, but you didn't care, finding a clean pair and pulling it on almost violently. you needed some water—your throat and lips were dry, and you prayed to all the gods that you had been just as quiet while having a wet dream as you were while touching yourself. if you remembered correctly, your and yeonjun's apartments were mirroring each other, meaning his bedroom was just behind the wall from yours. 

you stood by the counter, your fingers clutching the glass—you two were sitting just a few hours ago behind your back, and you wondered how you'd be able to look him in the eyes now, if you couldn't even look at yourself. 

just a wall away from where you were only a few minutes ago, yeonjun stirred awake with a soft groan on his lips, head thrown back. his heart was beating like crazy, and his entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, as he struggled to catch his breath and grasp at least one coherent thought amidst the dozen flying through his mind. but most importantly, he wanted to focus on anything but the images that stayed in his head even after he woke up.

yeonjun couldn't believe these thoughts, these fantasies were back. they weren't too hardcore, but he still had been pushing them down and ignoring their existence for years. no matter how he tried to phrase it, none sounded good—‘i’m a sadist’? he was, but he was a softcore one—that wasn't what anyone would think when hearing the word, though. ‘i enjoy causing pain’? it was even worse. and even knowing the truth himself, he couldn't accept it, too afraid of being labeled a psychopath. again. 

but they were back, and in the worst way possible—dreams. something yeonjun couldn't control. and what dreams they were—about the sweet neighbour he had only started getting to know better, and never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. but his brain thought differently. too differently, throwing in images of the way your skin felt between his lips and teeth, of the way his fingers fit perfectly around your neck, as if it was made for him to hold it, of the way you trembled and clenched at every little glimpse of pain he was giving you.

yeonjun felt himself twitch in his boxers—pictures too vivid in his head. he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the damp bangs away from his sweaty forehead and tugging at the roots. he didn't want to do it, truly didn't, but it was almost hurting, and his free hand—almost on its own accord—drifted down to jerk his tank top higher and then palm his hard cock through his boxers. he groaned at the feeling that was releasing at least a bit of pressure—pressure so unbearable, it almost shadowed the guilt he felt over thinking about you in such way.

the fabric was soaked through with precum, and yeonjun pushed it down with a quiet, low moan, freeing himself, his pulsing cock slapping against his stomach and leaving a smear of precum on his skin. he wrapped his hand around the shaft, stroking it slowly, images from the dream finding its way back into his mind—he tried his best to keep his fantasies to the needed minimum, not letting anything else in. he was doing it only to get rid of a boner.

but you felt so good beneath him there, your expressions, your sounds, the little trembles of your body and the way you clung to him, begging for more—all of it was sweeter than honey. yeonjun couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering. was it possible to make you even sweeter? of course, he thought, cock twitching in his hand even before he finished the thought. because he could want anything, crave anything and you would give it to him, because you craved the same thing. like his lost puzzle piece. 

yeonjun stroked himself faster, his grip tightening around his throbbing cock as he started losing himself in the fantasy, much more dangerous than the one he had dreamed about, but he was in too deep to stop, because you—the one from the dream—was her. the one he had craved so much but had buried deep inside, down to the last thought. the one who wanted everything he wanted to give and could give—in exact same amounts. just perfect for him down to the smallest whimpers of pleasure found in the pain he gave you.

the thought made yeonjun groan, his hips bucking up into his fist as he felt his release building fast. he could almost hear your mewls and sobs of begging to never stop, feel your hands on his body, holding him and accepting him and his every dark part. he came, biting into his lip hard to muffle his moan of your name, as thick ropes of cum painted his stomach and hand. 

yeonjun tried to catch his breath, guilt slowly creeping in—much stronger than before—but there was something worse. the word was still bright, almost blinding in his mind, and he couldn’t believe a mere wet dream and just jerking off had awakened in him something that he had been hiding from himself for nearly a decade.

he looked at his hand, covered in cum, in disgust and grabbed the pack of facial tissues, pulling them out harshly to get rid of the reminders of everything that had happened. yeonjun wasn’t disgusted by his cum—he was a grown up, after all—but he hated everything that was somehow connected to it this time, and tissues weren’t enough. he threw the box somewhere on the bed and got up to go to the bathroom to at least wash his hands properly. 

yeonjun didn’t even bother to wipe them dry, just pausing in the doorway on his way out and shaking the drops off, as his gaze fell on the key you had given him, the silver rose keychain dangling down from the shelf, reflecting a light that went through the window from somewhere outside in the night. it was too dark to see the thorns, but he knew they were there, mocking him with the cruel coincidence. 

the way yeonjun tugged his tank top off on his way to the large mirror was almost cruel—he couldn’t care less if he tore it, he needed to look at it. he turned his back to the mirror, looking at the reflection over his shoulder, and there it was—mark of a wild rose, a thorned rose stem crossing his back. looking at it was almost foreign, feeling like a distant memory of someone who he had been years ago. 

yeonjun had always thought he was lucky to have it somewhere he just couldn’t see it—wild roses didn’t always find their soulmates, and their marks were a constant reminder of that, so he felt sorry for those who had to look at it regularly. he had the privilege of only seeing his own when he wanted to, and he never did—he hadn’t seen it for years. but had it helped him now? 

had his dismissal towards it helped him, when his tired and stressed brain clung to the nicest and most relaxing thing that had happened to him in weeks and distorted it into something dirty and disgusting, which had awakened a craving for something that he had given up on getting long ago, because his soulmate was nowhere to be found? 

had his pretending helped him, when he came with the thought of just being accepted? 

everything melted under the morning light, though—just like how it could turn the monster in the dark corner into a coat carelessly hung on the coat rack, when you were a child, in the same way, it transformed all the thoughts, fears and, most importantly, guilt into indifference for both of you. 

in the darkness of the night, you weren't sure how you could even think of yeonjun, but now, as you were applying healing lip balm to you sore lower lip—that you, perhaps, had bitten too hard last night—while trying to type with your other hand, you didn’t see any problem—you couldn’t control your dreams. your brain had probably been so overloaded with yeonjun for hours before you went to sleep, that it just continued thinking of him even subconsciously. god, you even had a wet dream about soobin once, after you two stayed in the office until almost midnight and you were just too tired. 

yeonjun would never know about it anyway—unless you told him, and you surely weren’t going to. you were going to just go with the flow and let stuff happen the way they were supposed to, without ruining everything for yourself by feeling ‘guilt’ and ‘disgust’ toward your subconscious. you would just deal with the consequences later—if there would be any, of course. you sure there wouldn’t be.  

and it was the same for yeonjun, who was almost embarrassed with how dramatic he had been in the dark shadows of his apartment and thoughts, longing for a soulmate who would ‘accept’ him. yes, his soulmate would—just as he would do the same for them—because his darkness aligned and blended perfectly with theirs. that was the point of soulmates. but who said his soulmate was the only one who could do it? his friends accepted him—yes, it was different, but it was still acceptance. who said there was only one person in the world that could accept him as a lover? bullshit.

and when it came to the filthiness of thoughts yeonjun had about you… he wasn’t so sure it was truly you, if he was being honest. in the chill morning air, it felt more like a phantom of his soulmate—one he secretly craved so badly to hold—had shaped itself into your form just because he spent so much time with you yesterday. it probably had to do a little with you as… you. too little. almost nothing.

so yeonjun had almost no remorse sending you a good morning text in the form of ‘so, are you having pineapple pizza for breakfast? or are you going to add pineapples to kimchi maybe?’. before he could even wonder if it sounded a bit too rude or aggressive, you hit him back with ‘okay, jokes aside, serious question now. do you put choco mint ice cream on your fried chicken or do you prefer to dip it?’, making him smile—you matched his sass, and he loved it.

yeonjun asked you if you wanted him to keep you company on your way to the ground floor, so you wouldn’t get bored waiting for the elevator and in it—a kind man he was—and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to burden him, but keeping in mind that he was the one who offered. he didn’t have to, but he still did, so it was safe to assume he at least had no problems with it—and at most, wanted to. so you chose not to think for him and just be honest. 

it was awkward, leaving the apartment and seeing him by your door, waiting for you, but you brushed it off—it reminded you of a friend waiting for you to walk to school together, and it wasn’t a big deal. what was a big deal was the way your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, images from the dream still haunting you, a weird feeling blooming in your lower stomach. seeing him after the way you had felt him in the dream was unsettling, but you tried to push the images away—of course, they were still there, barely any time had passed.

it was the same for yeonjun, his breath hitching when he saw you—so composed and neat compared to how messy and ruffled you had looked in his dream and his fantasies. he quickly corrected himself—not you. his soulmate. with your appearance, but still not you. but he didn’t realize that it took him a bit too long until your question pulled him from his thoughts.

yeonjun was looking at you so intently that you felt an almost overpowering need to make yourself seem smaller. he couldn’t read your mind, could he?.. “is there something on my face?” you asked uncertainly, your hand shooting up to touch your lips. you didn’t have a coffee mustache, did you? that’d be so embarrassing!

“huh?” yeonjun quickly ran his eyes over your face. “no, nothing,” he shook his head, but almost immediately narrowed his eyes, leaning in just a bit closer, making your eyes widen. but then he shook his head and straightened back. “nope, nothing.” 

that man was something else, you thought. “what did you think you saw?” you asked curiously, as you both headed to the elevator hall.

“hm?” yeonjun threw a quick glance at you. “it seemed like you had a whole pineapple slice in the corner of your lip,” he shrugged nonchalantly, but the tiny smirk tugging at his lips gave away his intentions to tease you. he continued, “probably imagined it.” 

you quirked an eyebrow at him, keeping the play up as you stepped into the elevator. “really? just a few hours with me, and you are already imagining pineapples everywhere?” you leaned your back against the mirror, watching as he stood a bit to the side to adjust his hair. “what’s next? ordering pineapple pizza in the middle of the night so no one sees it?” 

gosh, yeonjun thought, throwing a quick glance at your reflection. you fit right into the circle of people he enjoyed spending time with. and what was even better, he knew he’d always have the last word with you. “mhm,” he turned to you. “wait til you look at mint choco ice cream in a convenience store, and the next second, you find yourself eating it with a tablespoon in the middle of the night, thinking of me,” he smirked.

you rolled your eyes playfully, covering up the weird way your insides reacted to ‘thinking of him in the middle of the night’. “you wish,” you stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he’d take it as your defeat. yeonjun seemed to like making you flustered and having the upper hand, and you could get flustered easily sometimes and had never been too sharp-tongued, sometimes struggling to come up with extremely clever and sassy responses—but he didn't seem to mind.

but ‘keeping company to the ground floor’ became ‘keeping company to the nearest bakery’ to get morning coffee for both of you—yeonjun said that he since was already outside, he might as well use the opportunity to get americano for now and some baked goods for later. you weren't sure who was the first to joke when he handed you your cup, but his question about whether there was a pineapple slice in your coffee blended with your question about him deciding against adding chocolate-ed toothpaste to his coffee this time, and neither of you had even finished—your shared laughter filled the little bakery instead. 

when you parted your ways, though, yeonjun realized that while talking to you made his exhausting thoughts disappear and he could just stop worrying about basically anything—which was only weird because you had met a little over twelve hours ago, as his friends were able to do the same—whenever you two weren’t talking, his mood became even worse than before, thoughts about not meeting his soulmate yet coming back to haunt him. he thought he had stopped caring a few years ago. 

it wasn’t easy to keep himself from turning around to look at you, but he managed to, gripping the cup in his hand tighter, the ice cubes clicking together and cooling his skin even through plastic. was the temporary happiness worth the dark thoughts that crept in the moment he hadn't heard from you for a minute? he wasn't sure. it still wasn't too late to go back to being just neighbours—you still had nothing between you two except one and a half inner jokes. it'd be easy to pretend things just didn't work out. 

yeonjun unlocked his phone, the chat with you still open on the screen. his eyes ran over the lines of the morning conversation, a soft smile appearing on his face. he wasn't sure he could do it—to pretend it just didn't work out—because it did, and your messages were perfect proof of it. he wasn't a weak man; he knew how to fight bad habits and addictions, and he could fight this one too, but… did he want to?

you, on the other hand, felt like you were shining from the inside. it seemed like the universe, destiny, fate, or whatever else was up there had heard your intentions of letting the soulmate situation go and sent yeonjun to support you along the way. maybe yeonjun was a sign, hitting you right over the head, telling you it was time to move on and focus on something else. for example, building a good friendship with someone nice and kind? it probably was. what else could it be? 

it became a regular habit—not a daily one, but yeonjun kept you company on your way to your work until the bakery at least two or three times a week, when his schedule allowed him—sometimes, his lessons started early in the morning, and he left while you were still sound asleep. he usually told you about it the morning of the previous day, adding something like “just don't miss me too much” or “i hope you won't cry on your way to work”.

yeonjun developed a habit of visiting the bakery and paying for your regular order beforehand these days, but of course, when you asked him about it, he had sworn it wasn't him—just some other kind and extremely handsome soul. perhaps the same one that paid for the pizza the first day. but you weren't going to let it slide, so whenever you both visited the bakery, it turned into a competition who could pay for both orders faster, and eventually two orders became one—to make it impossible to have a tie and to minimize the playful wrestling your competition was turning into.

what surprised you the most, though—because yeonjun's desire to pay for you didn't—was that he and soobin somehow got into contact, probably through beomgyu, and almost made a schedule. whenever soobin couldn't walk you home after working extra hours—either because he had his own plans or because you were the only one who stayed behind—yeonjun was right there, waiting for you. you knew you could tell soobin you wanted to go home alone that day, and he'd text yeonjun, telling him not to worry, but somehow, you were sure yeonjun would still come, not wanting you to walk alone when it was getting dark even before you left work. and you liked spending extra time with him, so you never fought him on it.

every time yeonjun saw you and your bright smile directed at him, he thanked his past self for deciding against pretending things between you and him didn't work out. he realized it wasn't you who was a problem despite triggering these dark thoughts, he was one—he had never really worked them through, choosing to just ignore them until they disappeared. and he thought they had, but of course they hadn't. yet somehow, it felt like just your presence was slowly healing him, motivating him to work his issues out, and it was getting better, even though he never shared his burdens with you. 

unexpectedly enough, you hadn't visited yeonjun's apartment in these two months, and he had only visited yours on the day you two talked for the first time. your schedules just didn't seem to match well enough—your nine-to-five job barely aligned with his packed weekday evenings (some days he had to rush back to the dance studio after walking you home) and almost full weekends, where he could have up to twelve hours of lessons each day. 

“as i spent two hours at your place the first day,” yeonjun once stated while walking you home, your fingers wrapped around his arm, as he held an umbrella over you both, “it'll be only fair if you spend just as much time at mine,” he threw his regular glance at you to check if you were fully shielded from rain.

it pulled you out of your head and you looked at yeonjun with a little ‘hm?’ but your brain caught up before he could repeat himself. “two hours? don't tell me you're going to set a countdown and push me out the moment it runs out,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“nah, don't worry,” yeonjun assured you, poking your shoulder. “i’ll set a countdown and won't let you out until it goes out,” he paused for a second, wondering if he should say that, but jokes like that had become more or less regular between you two pretty quickly. he just hoped you'd tell him if he ever made you feel uncomfortable. “might even tie you up, hm?” 

you looked at him with ‘are you serious?’ expression, trying to contain your smile. “you're such a perv, jun,” you said, shaking your head, but you weren't serious about it, and he knew it—you often were the one to start these jokes. “how did we get from jokes about tying you up to jokes about tying me up, though?” 

yeonjun shrugged. “got to know each other better?” he was only half joking—he had enough experience to be almost completely sure where exactly you leaned on that… coordinate line. and considering you were keeping up with that direction of jokes, he assumed he was right. 

you narrowed your eyes at him—were you that obvious? “what does that mean, choi yeonjun?” you asked with mock pressure, but he only laughed, shaking his head. “are you free to hang out today?” you asked quietly, hoping he was. why would he mention it in the first place if he wasn't?

but yeonjun only shook his head, sighing. “no, sorry, mouse,” he squeezed your hand on his arm with his in an attempt to comfort you at least a bit. “i have classes in twenty minutes and almost til midnight,” he said. he hated to upset you—you never said it outright, but he could hear it in your voice. and he knew he’d hear that little hint of disappointment now too. 

of course, he did… you nodded, eyes glued to the tips of your shoes. “okay…”, you mumbled, looking at the reflection of you both in the puddles. it was his job, and he already somehow managed to find time between classes to walk you home when soobin couldn't and woke up early some days to keep you company on your way to work. you wished you could hide your emotions better, but it was difficult to pretend with him. you wanted to be sincere. “sorry. don’t think about it, okay?”

yeonjun pressed his lips together—you both still hadn't passed that stage. you could show your emotions to each other, but never really shared deep feelings, quickly pushing them away and covering them with a smile. and he couldn't ask you to open up, because he wasn't sure he would be able to do the same. “okay,” he smiled warmly at you. “i’ll record myself dancing between classes and send it to you, okay?”

you nodded, already happier—you loved watching him dance because you could see how much he enjoyed doing it, basically shining from the inside when he was doing it, his happiness almost contagious. and yeonjun enjoyed showing his skills to you too—he had only showed you his dancing in person a few times, but each time you looked at him with such awe, as if he were performing miracles rather than just moving his limbs. it fed his ego to no end, if he had to admit.

a few weeks later, though, yeonjun managed to free up his schedule a little and finally invited you to his place, swearing he didn't have any mint choco ice cream there, and you promised your pockets were free of pineapple pizzas. he had admitted he had nothing against pineapples on pizza less than a week after joking about it for the first time, and you said you were only joking about mint chocolate too, but the joke still stuck—it was your first inside joke (or the second one, after the one about yeonjun being a maniac one).

you found out he played guitar—the tips of your fingers itched at the memory, but you pushed it away—but he hadn’t played much recently, barely having time to practice anymore, so he figured he had probably lost all his skills. but yeonjun tried to remember a melody, playing it for you as you sat in his living room, watching him try to recall finger placements. and he was actually good, making you wonder why he gave himself so little credit sometimes. he was a great singer too—another skill from his middle school years—and while the highest notes weren’t his strongest suit, his soft, breathy singing was one of the nicest voices you had ever heard.

since then, yeonjun managed to free up even more time to spend it with you and his other friends—he was glad you motivated him to do it, because he realized he had been overworking himself like crazy for the past two years, taking on more classes than he could realistically handle while still enjoying his job. he could finally sleep properly too, minimizing the number of classes that started too early or ended too late, which also gave him opportunity to meet his old friends more often and spend time with you at his or your place almost on daily basis. 

it made you both slowly start opening up to each other about your current problems—work, friends, families—as you sat on the couch late at night,the room dimly lit by a paused movie or tv series on the screen, a slightly open window letting in cool air and making you wrap your blankets tighter around yourselves. all of it made the atmosphere too comfortable, almost intimate, making each of you think about the things that were burdening you and stealing the desire to keep them to yourselves when getting asked about them. 

often, you were the one who shared your burdens, and yeonjun listened, giving advice or, more often, sharing his point of view on the things you were worried about. you never expected him to be so emotionally mature, if you had to admit—he was extremely stubborn and even short-tempered some days, occasionally seemed to have issues when his authority was questioned, and you had noticed some light possessive tendencies, but his advice was always great, and most of the time, he was able to help you decipher your own feelings and emotions when you were completely confused.

yeonjun preferred to keep his burdens to himself—not just from you, but from almost everyone. he was the oldest in his friend group, and didn’t want to burden others in general, especially the ones who were younger. and, he once admitted, he also felt even more protective over you. he never said why, but you knew—he saw you weak. not in a bad way, just as someone who needed protection, and he wanted to take that role, which meant he wasn’t allowed to make you feel worse in any way, even if it was worrying about him. 

but at the same time, yeonjun tried his best to open up about things he was sure wouldn’t worry you too much—an annoying person in his class, spoiled milk because he forgot to put it back in the fridge, or a takeout order that was delivered wrong. things that made him annoyed or angry, not upset or hurt, because he was afraid you’d mirror his feelings, and being annoyed was much better than being upset. but even so, it still helped him open up more and more to you.

the only thing neither of you ever mentioned in these months was soulmates—the first slip into that topic had drawn a line you both didn’t want to cross, realizing how difficult it was even without knowing the details. mostly because it was the same for both of you. but at the same time, neither yeonjun nor you worried too much about it recently, too focused on maintaining a newly found friendship. of course, some dark thoughts still haunted you in the dead of night, but it happened much less frequently. 

wet dreams started happening more frequently, though. so often, you didn’t even bother anymore, simply going right back to sleep after waking up from another one in the middle of the night. all of them were based on the same thing—pain, which was more or less understandable, given your type of soulmate bond affected your relationship with it a lot. but you couldn’t wrap your head around yeonjun being the one in your dreams. he seemed so gentle with whatever he touched, so soft, a complete opposite of how he was in your dreams, and despite him being an extremely handsome man and everything anyone could want in a partner, you weren’t sure you were sexually attracted to him. at least, not until yet another wet dream that made you look at him differently for a few days.

for yeonjun, it was even worse—the fantasies he had been suppressing for years started creeping closer to the surface, which didn’t match well with his already naturally high libido, more free time from work, and not wanting to look for a friend with benefits or even a one-night stand. some nights he even managed to jerk off and clean up while being half-asleep, waking up in the morning with only a fleeting memory of what had happened. he felt more annoyed by it than guilty, but refused to admit it even to himself—the thought felt extremely selfish and wrong. he wasn't sure why you were the one who pushed his pain kink to the surface, unable to find an answer no matter how much time he spent thinking about it.

it became such a regular thing for both of you, that you just went about your days like nothing had changed, neither of you trying to put any distance between you. you kept getting closer, and at some point, yeonjun gave you a spare key to his apartment—he wasn't sure why, but said it felt ‘natural’. you joked that at least he wouldn’t have to worry about losing his keys anymore, before giving him a spare key to yours—it felt ‘natural' too. 

while you barely used yeonjun's, he used yours almost regularly—his uneven working schedule was giving him an opportunity to go grocery shopping in the middle of the day sometimes, so he started buying groceries for both of you, so you wouldn’t have to bother with it after work, leaving them at your place. of course, he always asked beforehand if he could come into your apartment or if you'd prefer him to keep them at his place until you could take them later, but you had no problem with him visiting your place, so you always gave the green light.

yeonjun never took it as a “permanent green light” though, and kept asking for your permission. so when one friday evening you texted him about not feeling too well and probably having a cold—just to explain why you couldn't hang out with him—he asked if he could check on you in the morning and maybe cook something for you. you agreed hesitantly, under the condition of him not getting too close to you so he wouldn't catch a cold too. you both knew perfectly well that he'd do whatever he wanted anyway, but it was obvious he wouldn't visit you without your permission. still, he'd worry his ass out if he didn’t, so you just agreed—you’d take care of him if he got sick. 

in the middle of the night, your fever got much worse, your temperature rising significantly and you were so cold, that you could do nothing except pull thick warm pajamas over the skimpy top and shorts you usually slept in and add another blanket, wrapping yourself in two of them like a hot, feverish burrito. and that was exactly how yeonjun found you in the early morning.

it was still dark, but yeonjun decided he could check your temperature in the dim glow of the city lights filtering through your window—he didn't want to wake you by turning on the bright lights, so he stepped to your bed, already feeling uneasy at the sight of how little of your face was visible between the uneven layers of blankets.  and it only got worse when he crouched down next to the bed and touched your cheek with the back of his hand—you were practically burning.

yeonjun almost jumped up, quickly slapping the nightlight lamp you had on your bedside table, the room filling with a soft yellow glow as he started unwrapping you from the layers of blankets. “come on, mouse, don't be stubborn,” he mumbled, when you tried to cling to the fabric, but he was stronger in general and you were weakened by the cold, so he had no problem uncovering you. “shit… are you trying to burn yourself alive?” he cursed, when he saw how thick your pajamas were. 

but that's when yeonjun froze, towering over you, his knee on the bed as you tried to keep warm, curling into a ball, your back facing him. he wasn't sure you were wearing anything underneath—panties, most probably, but a top…? cautiously, he slid the pajama top up your back, revealing the thin fabric of a crop top, damp with sweat and clinging to your skin. your skin felt like fire under his fingers. shit, he thought. please, don't hate me. 

he turned you on your back, trying to tug your pajama top off, but you clung to his arms with quiet sniffles. yeonjun thought his heart was breaking at the way you kept softly sobbing his name, saying how cold you were—he wasn’t even sure how you recognized him in that state, but you did. 

“baby,” he whispered, trying to lift your arms, but you only tried to wrap them around him, desperate for even a bit of his warmth. “we need to lower your temperature. please, let me take this off.”

you only whimpered his name again, your nails digging into his forearm. “jjun-ie… it’s so cold,” you sobbed quietly, and yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat—you had never called him that way before, and the way you did now made him want to protect you from everything. or give in. but he knew better. “you’re so warm…”

yeonjun hushed you, quickly throwing a glance at the medicine and glass of water on your bedside table beside the thermometer—you prepared it before going to bed. good girl. “i’ll warm you, i promise,” he murmured, pressing his palm to your side—your temperature was only getting higher. “just let me take this off, okay?” he said, tugging the pajama top up slightly. 

you nodded with a quiet ‘okay’, and yeonjun, finally getting permission even though a questionable one, pulled the over your head—at least you cooperated now—and froze with it in his hands, his eyes locked on your skin that wasn’t covered with the short top. he almost forgot how to breath. 

when he realized he had to undress you, he had told himself this was nothing, that he had seen enough women naked before, that there wouldn’t be anything new. and there wasn’t anything new. but there was something he had never expected to see—the mark. the one that resembled the one on his back. the same mark he had seen on the bodies of other wild roses he knew. half of the stem hidden beneath your top.

you were a wild rose. yeonjun felt like a complete idiot—everything had hinted at that. all the wild roses he knew disliked or even hated roses before meeting their soulmate, yet they always had something connected to roses on them. some wore jewelry, some had keychains or little paintings of one in their phone case. he had a pressed rosebud in his wallet, and you never took off a velvet bracelet that—he now realized—would look like a thorny rose stem if you laid it down. 

you had some issues with connection or your soulmate—yeonjun didn’t know the details, but he had never met a wild rose who had it easy. that type of bond being probably the least stable and the most unpredictable one. and you also tried your best to be extremely carefulб even in your clumsiest moments—that was something wild roses learned early on. and, well, you hadn’t met your soulmate, which wasn’t too strange before, but made sense now—many wild roses wandered alone for a really long time. 

yeonjun almost touched the thorn under your collarbone as if hypnotized when your sob of his name pulled him out of the haze. you sat up, reaching for him, and he was actually glad you did, because he needed you to take your medicine. he sat on the bed next to you, and you clung to him almost instantly, one of your hands slipping under his hoodie to press against his back, as you tried to warm yourself. he froze—his own mark was there, and even though you couldn’t feel it, it still made him feel weird. 

but yeonjun only adjusted your position slightly, settling you between his legs, your side pressed to his chest. he suddenly felt weak, wondering if the discovered information was already taking its toll on him. but he shook his head—not the right time to think about it. he popped the pill out and grabbed the glass, placing the medicine in your palm and guiding the glass to your hand, his own holding it over yours in case you were too weak. 

you stopped sobbing about being cold, though you still shivered and trembled slightly in his arms. maybe, the fresh air in your room had cooled you down a bit, clearing your mind, but either way, yeonjun was glad you had calmed down a bit—it made you much more cooperative. you took the medicine almost without needing his words, earning a quiet  ‘good girl’ from him, which you probably paid no attention to.

your arms were around yeonjun’s waist the moment he took the glass away from you, holding him tightly as you pressed your chest against his as much as you could in that position. he quietly asked you if he could take off your too-thick pajama pants as well, and you nodded with a quiet ‘yes’, your head resting on his shoulder, breath warm against his neck. you even lifted your hips slightly to help him pull your pants down, getting another ‘good girl' in response.

yeonjun put the thermometer into your mouth and rested his palm on your bare knee, as you pulled your legs closer to your chest, cold now as your pajamas were gone. he tried to warm you at least a little, but mostly, he let you warm yourself against him the way you wanted to, like your own personal human heater—it was the first time you two had been this close, and it was extremely close compared to the simple hello and goodbye hugs, which had been the closest you’d ever gotten. and he was too lost in thoughts anyway to think about how to warm you actively without crossing any boundaries. 

somehow, the discovery was horrifying, and mostly because yeonjun had no idea why it scared him so much. was it because it made him feel so much more protective over you, knowing perfectly how painful that type of bond could be? or because of how close it would naturally bring you together in search of comfort whenever it came to anything about soulmates? or maybe because he knew he would have to open up now and tell you who he was—because he knew who you were, and it would only be fair. because he was afraid to open that pandora’s box he called his soul. afraid to do it again, and realize, too late, that he had chosen the wrong person. one more time.

but as you finally fell asleep on his shoulder, your breathing even, your hold loosening and your skin no longer burning—the second temperature check confirming it—yeonjun knew he would never tell you how much you clung to him or how helpless you had sounded, unless you remembered it yourself. he didn't want you to feel embarrassed, especially when there was nothing to be embarrassed about in the first place. he caressed your cheek without thinking, surprising himself both with the action and with the way you instinctively leaned into his cool hand.

carefully, yeonjun laid you back down on your bed and covered you with a thin blanket, holding himself back from pressing lips to your forehead the way his mom always did to him, even when he had grown up. he got up slowly—he still felt weak, but he had to cook something for you, so you’d have something to eat when you woke up. he slapped the nightlight one more time to turn it off, and threw one last quick glance at you before leaving the bedroom. 

you were much more surprising than he could ever expect, and he had no idea what to do with these surprises. 

♡ you're here ♡ | to chapter 2 →

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Next Chapter of Sonic and The Cursed Bracelet is now up on Ao3

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