#stuck at my parents without my laptop so this is the result

[nico-di-genova]

In My Mind, You are Safe

Chapter 4

Read on AO3

“Be safe,” Lance says, leaning down into the car enough that Fernando will hear him through his helmet. It is a bit like Deja vu, pulls at the dregs of a memory, Lance’s last moments in his own car that are still muddled.

Fernando glances up at him through his visor, nods, “Be back soon.”

It is a promise, soothes at the anxiety that prickles along Lance’s spine. Fernando is exceedingly careful in the car these days, in all the ways he can be when he’s doing 300 kph, because he knows Lance is sitting in the garage waiting for him.

Lance cannot race anymore, he’s prone to migraines, his right leg can’t withstand the force required to push down the pedal, the g-forces are a threat to his body that he’s so carefully spent a year putting back together. The FIA will not clear him, no matter how much money his father had tried to throw at them. Instead, Felipe has taken up permanent residence on what used to be his side of the garage - permanent until Yuki replaces him next year. The number 18 exists now only on the small decal Fernando has added to his own helmet, beside the victory cross. The gesture had only fueled the rumors about them, Lance being the first person Fernando greets when he gets out of the car now hadn’t helped.

They’re not subtle, but Lance has earned the luxury of not needing to be. Silverstone especially owes him this, considering it has tasted his blood, nearly claimed him like Lance was the sacrificial lamb brought to the alter. This was the race they had been preparing for, mentally, since Fernando first sat Lance down and explained he wasn’t ready to give up driving.

——————————————

There is an itch under his skin, one he can’t quite reach, when he sits behind a wheel - even if it is the leather wrapped wheel of his Aston Martin as he drives Lance to his physio appointment. His grip tightens around the brown leather, his foot presses harder on the pedal, Lance shoots him a look like he understands. Fernando thinks it looks a lot like jealousy.

They don’t talk about it, the F1 sized car that follows them like a backseat companion, the silent elephant in the room. But Fernando knows the further he pushes the gas, the more Lance looks like it physically pains him. He eases off, lets the speedometer drop back down to a safe range, grabs Lance’s hand that had been tensing around the fabric of his sweat pants and squeezes reassuringly.

Lance doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, Fernando can see the tick of his jaw out of the corner of his eye and knows they are close to the breaking point anyway.

———————————

“I want to go back,” Fernando says over dinner, when Lance is chewing a mouthful of roasted veggies and cannot immediately bite back. He tries to be gentle about it, even as he sees Lance’s shoulders tense.

They have been toeing this for months, Fernando snapping because they’ve been stationary in his London home for too long and Lance snapping back because it’s his body that is broken, not Fernando’s, as he likes to point out with spitting frustration. There have been fights, small at first, growing in the past few weeks. Fernando tries not to be mean, but Lance is good at cutting to the bone. They’ve been sleeping in separate rooms.

Lance swallows, stays quiet, his grip on the fork in his hand goes white knuckled. He does not meet Fernando’s eyes, but instead stares down at his plate with resolute defiance.

“I have talked with Lawrence-.”

Lance scoffs, drops the fork so it clatters against the glass top of the dining table. It skitters across the surface before reaching the edge and falling to the ground. Last week it had been Lance’s plate, glass shards exploding across the wood flooring. They’d been fighting about something stupid, the dishes Fernando had left in the sink, a distraction from the conversation Fernando is starting now.

“Lance-.”

“Fuck you,” Lance spits, shoves back from the table with enough force it shifts along the floor, scrapes the hardwood. Lance has been leaving his mark on Fernando’s home like he is trying to prove that he is still there.

“Lance, please-.”

He’s speaking to the retreating back of the man, standing himself because Lance is heading for his room and he wants to stop him before he’s speaking to a locked door.

“Lance-.”

He gets one hand around Lance’s bicep, the fabric of his hoodie, before Lance is jerking away and turning to face him.

“Don’t,” he warns, eyes already dark with the promise of a fight, lips already twisted into a pained scowl. Fernando can see the hurt in his expression, hates that he’s the one to keep putting it there.

“Please, let me explain,” he pleads, reaching for Lance again, needing to soothe the pain from him.

Lance steps back, shakes his head, “Fuck you, Fernando.” His voice is thick, clogged, promises tears even if they haven’t appeared yet.

Fernando swallows back the rising tide of his own.

“You said you wouldn’t go back until I did. You said that.”

“I know-“

“So you’re a fucking liar.”

“No-“

“You talked to my dad. Behind my back. To what? Set up another contract? Was it easier to negotiate now that you could hold caring for me over his head?” Lance wants to hurt him, is trying, stabbing with brutal efficiency because he is tired of being the only one hurting. Fernando gets another hand on him, Lance jerks back away from it like he’s been burned. They’re standing in the living room with their dinner forgotten behind them and Fernando can see the tears forming in Lance’s eyes but he doesn’t know how to stop them anymore.

“I would never Lance, you know this.”

“Do I?”

“Lance-“

“Just stop! Stop. I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Go back to racing, I don’t fucking care. Crash your own car into the wall and then maybe you can join me here again.”

Fernando swallows, blinks, sees Lance’s blood seeping between his fingers in the millisecond of darkness. Lance is still bleeding, and Fernando cannot stop it.

When Lance walks away again Fernando lets him go, jumps at the sound of the door slamming and tries not to think of the way it sounds like an Aston Martin crunching into the concrete.

——————————————

Lance does not go with Fernando to his first race back. Instead, he flies to Montreal and cries in his mother’s arms when she opens the door to him.

He couldn’t drive himself here from the airport, the sun had been too bright and his head had hurt too much and so he’d been forced into the backseat of a tinted SUV and dropped off on his mother’s doorstep. He’s wearing Fernando’s jacket, stolen from his closest as a final fuck you, or maybe a promise that he would be back to return it. It smells like the man, makes the sharp stab in his gut hurt even more. When his mother answers the door he crumples.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she soothes, as Lance sobs in her arms and tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg.

Right now Fernando is probably sliding into his race suit. Right now he is thinking of plan A, thinking of winning. Right now he is speaking with Felipe who is driving Lance’s car, with Lance’s team. Lance wonders if Fernando will fuck Felipe too, tell him he’s doing a good job, crash into him and send his whole world spiraling out of control along with his car.

“It hurts,” he cries, unable to tell if he means his body, or his head, or the gaping hole Fernando has left in his chest. It’s all the same at this point, indistinguishable.

———————————

“My son is with his mother,” Lawrence accuses.

Fernando, hair still damp from his shower, skin still flushed from the podium, has the decency to look ashamed. It only makes Lawrence angrier.

“He flew to Canada. Alone.”

“He is cleared to fly, Lawrence-”

“I told you. If you stayed you better mean it. So why is my ex-wife telling me Lance was crying on her doorstep?”

Lawrence can be an intimidating man when he means to be, when Lance isn’t around to make him appear only as a doting father. He makes sure to stand to his full height, tower over Fernando in his temporary office in the Aston Martin motorhome. Claire had told him Lance had only just fallen asleep, after the migraine pills had soaked in enough to make the rest come easier. She’d FaceTimed him while she was lying with Lance in his bed, the brown tufts of Lance’s hair just barely visible from where he was passed out in Claire’s lap. When she spoke, it had been in a berating hush.

Fernando must know about the flight, he doesn’t look shocked to hear Lance is not where he left him.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admits, hangs his head. “Racing, I am good at. It is what I know.”

“Yeah. It’s what Lance knew too.”

Fernando jerks like he’s been punched, looks up at Lawrence with shame and hurt.

“I wanted him to come back. I want him in the car beside me. I thought- I wanted to think he could.”

Both he and Lawrence know it’s a lie, both knew there was no chance of Lance racing again. Delusion could only go so far, and the scar on Lance’s abdomen was too large to ignore. When Fernando had asked for his seat back, Lawrence had given it to him on the condition that Lance agree. Instead, Lance is in Canada and Fernando is alone.

He’s wearing a hoodie that’s too big for him, is clearly one of Lance’s, Lawrence almost demands it back. But he is not cruel, and Fernando is hurting in much the same way his son is.

“I told you it wouldn’t be easy,” Lawrence sighs, “he’s stubborn, you’re hardheaded.”

“He is upset I came back,” Fernando mumbles, “I do not blame him.”

“He’s hurt that you could,” Lawrence corrects, places a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. It might be a comfort, or a threat, he isn’t sure which yet.

On the FaceTime Claire had demanded he fix this, while her hand was soothingly working its way through the tangled strands of Lance’s hair. He’s still trying to decide just how he’s going to do that. Fernando has been his friend, someone who he once would have trusted his son’s life with, and now he is the man who has nearly ripped Lance away from him, who Lance loves.

“You have time before the next race?” He asks, less of a question, more of a demand that he make the time.

Fernando thinks it over, nods.

“Book a flight to Montreal.”

——————————————

Lance sleeps a lot now, has little else to do to pass the time. He sleeps because the sheets he’s wrapped up in smell like home, because when his mom sits beside him he feels small and safe, because when he dreams it is the one place he can still be behind the wheel.

He dreams of winning, and wakes to the soured taste of failure. In the end, everyone was right, Lance is not a victor and he will never prove them wrong.

At some point he falls asleep and wakes to Fernando pressing a kiss to his temple, isn’t sure if he’s still dreaming. The scratch of his stubble, the scent of him, like rubber and pine, is strong enough that Lance chases it. His head lifts, his eyes flutter open, and Fernando is staring back at him.

“Nando?” He asks, groggy, reaching a hand blindly for Fernando and finding himself slightly startled when it meets his chin and doesn’t phase through. Sometimes he dreams of chasing Fernando, in the car, or on legs that sometimes don’t support his weight, watching the man slip out of his grasp when he does manage to catch him.

Fernando grabs his hand with his own, leans into Lance’s touch where he’s cradling his cheek. He’s kneeling beside Lance’s bed, in a position that would have Lance aching in two seconds if he tried it. Sometimes it’s funny to remember that Fernando is the older of the two of them. Ironic that Lance is the one who complains of sore joints now.

“Hey, churri,” Fernando greets, smiles softly. In the morning light filtering through Lance’s closed blinds his smile is muted, doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

The nickname is sweet, soothes over the cracked edges of Lance’s ripped open chest.

“How was the race?” He asks, as the last bits of sleep keep his mind foggy, makes him forget to be angry. Instead he is focused on how warm Fernando feels, on the fact that he is wearing one of Lance’s favorite hoodies - the one with the string pulled out because Lance had messed with it so much it had become frayed, made more sense just to remove it entirely.

Fernando grimaces, shakes his head, “I will tell you later.”

“Okay.”

“Can I lay here?” He nods at the sliver of empty space on the twin mattress behind Lance.

Lance nods, closes his eyes because his head is starting to ache again and sleep is the only way to stop it. Water too maybe, if he bothered to stay hydrated enough.

Fernando climbs onto the mattress beside him, nuzzles his nose against the nape of Lance’s neck and presses another stubble rough kiss there. His arm wrapped around Lance’s waist is gentle, hand splaying across his scarred abdomen like he’s trying to protect him from further harm.

Lance feels him breathe, the warm press of him along his back. It lulls him quickly back into unconsciousness.

———————————

Lance’s shirt rides up enough in his sleep that when Fernando wakes it’s to the rough edges of his scar against Fernando’s calloused fingers. Gross fascination has him tracing it, all the way up until he meets the end of it just below Lance’s ribs. He can feel the ghost of Lance’s heartbeat here, hear him snoring softly in his sleep. It’s healed now, the wound, which means that Fernando has not seen it since he stopped having to change the bandages. Lance doesn’t like him looking at it, avoids seeing it himself.

They stopped showering together, and they haven’t slept together since Lance’s accident. Fernando blames himself partly for the latter. Despite how much he wants to, he is afraid to hurt Lance further. Instead, he jerks off in the solitude of his room now and bites his hand to stop Lance’s name from spilling out of him.

“You don’t fuck me anymore,” Lance had complained one night, before the fighting had them sleeping separately, and Fernando hadn’t disagreed.

He is scared, afraid of the damage he has already caused, terrified of wreaking more. The scar under his fingers is proof, unfading, permanent, makes him feel sick with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and presses another kiss to Lance’s neck. Lance has told him to stop apologizing, but he doesn’t think he could ever say it enough to absolve himself.

Lance will never race again, and Fernando is already back in the car. Because he is selfish, because he does not know how to sit still, because racing is all he knows and in caring for Lance he is scared he has only hurt him further.

Lance moans in his sleep, shifts back further against Fernando. Fernando holds him, fully, wholly, and hopes it will be enough.

—————————

“If you want me to stop, I will,” he says to Lance later, when they are sitting in the sunroom of Lance’s mother’s house. It’s warm only because of the heater set to high, the snow piling against the windows doing little to help.

Lance, bundled in a blanket and a beanie on the couch beside Fernando, stares at him. Looks hurt for only a second before his brows furrow and it becomes anger.

“What?”

“I’ll retire, if you want me to, I will do it,” he means it as a gesture of trust, as proof that he does not want to lose what they have. Even if not being in the car would make him a little crazy, even if he would always yearn for it.

Lance stares at him. He pulls the blanket tighter around himself, ducks down further into the fabric. It’s the comforter pulled from his bed, dark blue with grey stitching. Fernando wonders if it’s the same bedding he slept under as a teenager. Wonders if this is what Lance might have looked like when he occupied this space as a child.

“You mean more, Lance. More than racing, you know this.”

He isn’t sure what to expect but Lance’s response of, “Go fuck yourself, Nando,” certainly wasn’t at the top of his list.

“You don’t get to put this on me. Retire if you want, but don’t blame me for it.”

“That is not what I meant-“

“Yes it is, of course it is, because you don’t want to stop. You know you don’t. You just want me to tell you to and I’m not going to trap you here. I won’t be responsible for that.”

Fernando watches him, watches as the dim sunlight through the clouds catches the shine of tears in his eyes. Watches as Lance pulls the blanket impossibly tighter, like he’s trying to vanish inside of It. He wants to reach out, pull Lance to him, but is scared to shatter the feeble ground they’re resting on. Too many conversations between them have turned to arguments these past few weeks.

“Because it fucking sucks, man,” Lance sniffles, wipes at his eyes with the fabric of the comforter, “being on the other end, knowing you’re done. I won’t do that to you.”

But I did it to you, Fernando thinks. I did this.

Lance’s blood will not wash off his hands, will not stop dripping through his fingers. He is pressing as hard as he can and Lance is still looking up at him with fear blown eyes and a silent plea. He is mouthing Fernando’s name and all that is coming up is crimson that stains his lips.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers into the quiet space of the sunroom. More of you because so much has already been taken by Fernando’s own hands.

“I won’t tell you to retire. Please don’t make me.”

“What do we do then?”

Lance shrugs, muffles his response against the comforter he folds further into, “I don’t know.”

———————————

Fernando races in Jeddah and Lance stays in Canada. His mind is scattered, unfocused, thinking of a kiss in the fresh snowfall that had felt like goodbye. Which is maybe why he taps the wall on lap 6 and ends his race in the barriers of turn 23.

Lance is the first missed call on his phone when he gets back to the garage. He calls him back immediately.

“Are you okay?” Lance asks, answering after two rings, sounding panicked in a way that is new. Fernando hates it, hates how he can hear the hitch in Lance’s voice.

“I’m fine, cariño, don’t worry. It was small.”

Lance sighs, shaky across the line, “you’re sure?”

“Already cleared by medical. About to go to the media pen now.”

Lance should know this, if he’d been watching as he so clearly had he would have seen how insignificant of a crash it was. Barely anything.

“But the wheel snapped hard, your hands-“

“Lance, I am okay. Promise.”

A bit sore maybe, from the straps digging into his chest, but no more than he’s already used to. Lance still sounds worried, his breath still hitching.

“Lance?”

“Sorry- fuck. Sorry,” he sniffles and it’s a wet sound, thick with snot.

“Baby,” Fernando soothes, feels the familiar guilt at the back of his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what’s happening,” Lance continues, breathing worsening. “I thought- it was- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Lancito. You’re okay. Breathe baby, is okay.”

He’s standing with his race suit around his hips in the garage, hadn’t even made it to the privacy of his drivers room because he didn’t think this would be much of a phone call at all. His handler is standing in the back trying to flag him down for the media duties he’s probably currently missing. Lingering engineers keep shooting him confused looks. Lance is panicking on the other end of the line though, safe in Canada wrapped in the security of his childhood blanket and it still isn’t enough to quell his choked breathing.

“Lance. Listen to me. Please. I am okay.”

“O-okay.”

“Completely fine. Some bruising maybe, but is all.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to come home, you can see yourself?”

Home meaning to Lance, he doesn’t care whose house it is, as long as it’s Lance who’s opening the door for him.

There’s static on the other end of the line, Lance’s muffled hyperventilating and then, “Y-yeah. Yes, please.”

“Okay, let me finish up here and I’ll get on the next flight. It’s alright. All okay.”

“Okay,” Lance repeats.

Fernando thinks of blood, Lance who’d been choking on it, how Lance wouldn’t have been there to pull him from the wreckage if that’s what it had come to. He wonders if Lance is thinking the same thing.

“Breathe,” he commands one last time, waits until he can hear Lance drawing air into his lungs, and then promises to be home soon. In the media pen he is short, curt, excuses himself with a speed that is unlike him off the track and then rushes back to his drivers room to change. His assistant has already booked him a flight and sent the details to Lance, all handled while Fernando was explaining to SkySports how he had ended his race in the wall.

He thinks about retiring on the plane, has a text to Lawrence drafted, but can’t bring himself to hit send. After all, the crash hasn’t scared him, just made him hungry for the chance to do better in the next race.

————————

Lance doesn’t remember his crash, not outside of the YouTube footage and Fernando’s own account. He doesn’t remember being scared, feeling his body failing him as he bled out steadily on the gravel. But he maybe feels the ghost of it when Fernando crashes.

He tastes copper at the back of his throat, far enough back that it can’t be blamed on split skin when he bites at his bottom lip too hard. They replay the crash, slow it down to discuss the details and Lance feels sick.

He calls Fernando, even though he knows the man is still in the car, only just climbing out of it, and swallows down vomit when it goes to voicemail.

It’s only the front wing that’s damaged, buried in the tire wall. And Lance can see that, but he can’t stop shaking anyway.

His mother sits with him, holds his hand while Lance tries to breathe around his tears. It is perhaps the most vulnerable he’s been with her since he was a child, with anyone, usually trying to hide away on his own before he breaks down. But the panic coursing its way through him glues him to the couch and then keeps him there long after he’s off the phone with Fernando.

He drifts in and out of sleep, takes pills that are offered to him and sips water from a glass with shaky hands when it’s pressed to his lips. At some point someone brings him food, crackers and fruit that he picks at numbly before growing disinterested and falling back asleep.

When he wakes up next it’s with a pounding headache and to the darkness of night. His phone is the only light, bright and harsh, making him squint as he paws for it on the coffee table.

There are two missed calls and six texts from Fernando, the last of which reads ‘here’ and sent two minutes ago.

Lance, barefoot and in a thin sleep shirt, stumbles to the front door with blind relief. Throws it open, despite the snow and the harsh wind, and then flings himself into Fernando’s arms.

“See,” Fernando soothes, cradles the back of Lances head, “All okay.”

————————

“I will retire at the end of the year,” Fernando promises, once they’re back indoors and warming themselves by the fire started by the staff and left running for Lance’s benefit.

They’re curled up on the couch, Lance having stripped Fernando of his shirt so he can inspect the bruises left behind by the straps of the car. Fernando sits with his back sinking into the plush pillows beneath him and Lance sits straddling his lap. He’d buried his face in the crook of Fernando’s neck after inspecting him, ensuring the bruises were just that, and then cried silently while Fernando traced patterns along the ridges of his spine. And then they’d stayed like that because Lance had gone slack against him and his breathing had evened out.

“Give me the year, yes? And then I am done.”

He’d thought about it on the ride from the airport to here, fingers picking at the edge of his phone and biting the inside of his cheek. He’d weighed the cost of his career against the cost of losing Lance and found that F1 would never win in the end. Besides, there was always endurance racing, other series he could entertain himself with. Other things Lance could maybe even take part in. He’s thinking about taking Lance karting, loops around a track, just the two of them, where Lance can maybe start to build back toward something. Because he knows Lance is the same as him, deep down, misses the feel of a wheel in his hand in the same way Fernando had during his brief breaks. When you are raised on it, when it is the only thing you know, you grow to miss the taste of it.

Even if the taste has gone sour with fear.

“One more year?” Lance asks, chapped lips moving against the soft part of Fernando’s neck, “That’s what you want?”

“I want you, Lance. That’s it. It is not the same if you’re not there.” Which is true, Felipe does not race the same, is not as sensitive to the finer bits of the car, does not have the same easy presence that Lance had. It all feels wrong, not at all like the team Fernando had signed on to, even most of Felipe’s engineers are new. And sure, their results are better, but only barely. Lance could drive the car to its limit, Felipe is still too reserved.

The grid is changing as a whole too, enough that Fernando finds himself searching for familiar faces in a sea of strangers. But being here with Lance is easy, feels right, even if the man is heavy against him and the weight of him is making the bruises on his chest ache.

He would hurt for Lance, do anything for Lance, knows that it isn’t the car he wants to be with in ten years time, but the man in his lap. Lance has been here just as long as racing has almost, once as a child who had clung to his father and looked at Fernando with adoration, now as someone who Fernando would consider an equal. He means just as much as a championship might, more maybe.

“It’s you. Always you, okay?��

The car can crash, Fernando will always pull Lance out.

————————

Lawerence has been working his whole life to make Lance smile, and yet it is still Fernando that manages it so easily. Fernando who wins in Silverstone, who stands on the top step of the podium and showers first Max and Charles in champagne, and then turns to douse the crowd below him. It is Lance he aims for, stood beside Lawerence and beaming up at Fernando as the champagne spray showers them in sticky drops.

Lawrence watches his son, the way he cheers Fernando’s name with the crowd, the way he’s sporting Fernando’s team cap backwards on his head, the new one, with the 18 embroidered along Alonso’s number. Because it is not just himself the man is racing for this year, but Lance as well.

The FIA hadn’t wanted to allow the duel numbers at first, but while Lawerence could not buy Lance his health back, he could do this. So 18 finishes next to 14 on the podium, because both numbers are present on Fernando’s suit as well. It is Fernando who will earn the points, but it is Lance who Fernando celebrates.

Lance laughs beside him, and Lawrence cherishes the sound, lets it replace the fading memory of a heart monitor and silence. He lets the champagne soak into his suit, watches it coat Lance’s hoodie and Fernando, and he envisions it soaking away the blood that was spilled here a year ago. Envisions crimson giving way to sweet champagne and the audible sound of Lance calling Fernando’s name.

Fernando is no longer hooking a finger around Lance’s pinkie, praying he wakes up, afraid to touch any other part of him, instead he has slid a metal band onto his ring finger and it glints in the sunlight.

It is nearly as bright as Lance’s smile.

#it is done :) #also this too was written on my notes app #stuck at my parents without my laptop so this is the result #I actually am very proud of this #reviews very much appreciated because this one took a lot out of me tbh #strollonso #strollonso fic #formula 1 #lance stroll #fernando alonso

[gisellelx]

Every once in a while, I reread one of your stories and I can’t help but check your website for any updates for One Day 😇 Just curious: are you still working on it? No pressure whatsoever of course!! I love the way you portray Carlisle in that fic & am already super thankful for those first 8 or so chapters! Anyways, hope you are doing well & thanks for providing us with so many high-quality fics!

- Sannehale

Ah, this ask made my year. (Also now I realize your two blog names. Sneaky!)

Yes., yes I am. It was actually open on my laptop even as this ask came in. My prereader is asking about it too--I stopped giving her chapters because I was realizing that I got a lot of enjoyment out of sending them to her and that was filling enough void that it cut off my writing mojo. I'm thrilled though, that she can't see where it's going.

I'm stuck on chapter 16 (of likely 23-25) at the moment because a whole bunch of dominos have to fall in order to get to several reveals that are going to happen in very fast succession to move the story out of the second act. Also the second act/B story was hard because I am not a romance writer! 😆 It's not the genre I read and I'm not very good at writing it, but the middle of this story called for a romance and so there is one. Or so I hope.

I've also gone back and shored up some things that needed shoring--introduced a few of the characters who turned out to be important earlier on, and added another character in Bella's research mentor, Amy Jackson. I'm worried that I'm under-utilizing her at the moment.

This ask, though, prompted me to back out to the card view in the Scrivener project and I realize I actually did leave myself the breadcrumbs necessary to get myself out of here. Maybe I'll put my shoulder to the wheel and see what happens if I just follow the outline I laid out.

Anyway. I feel like I shouldn't end an ask without giving a little bit of some of the over 40,000 words that are written and not posted. So here's a tiny bit. This actually may not stay in, and in any event doesn't spoil anything--it's also the headcanon behind this chapter of Montage, though this scene was written years ago and my headcanon about Carlisle's name and his parents' names goes back over fifteen years now.

Of course, I knew a lot more than most people who were hunting down a relative from the 1600s. I clicked on the link for church records, and then delimited my search. If Carlisle was 367, that put him in 1644. That seemed reasonable. I filtered the results by the location, London, and then 1640 to 1650.

CULLEN, I typed. CARLISLE.

Zero hits. I frowned at my screen for a long moment and then practically slapped myself in the head. Of course there were no hits for Carlisle Cullen. Wasn’t this the very thing we’d been arguing about for months, now? I backspaced over the first name, and changed it to WILLIAM.

There were only three hits. Astonishing. I had assumed that Carlisle would have done his due diligence. He’d had hundreds of years to track this information down—why hadn’t he? William Cullen number one was in the baptismal records of St. Luke’s Catholic Church. He had been baptized in 1642. That would make him nearly the same age as Carlisle, no luck there. William Cullen number two, however, was on over seventy pages of documents—the records of St. James Aldgate, listed as parish pastor. And William Cullen number three almost caused my heart to stop.

Born 17 February 1644. Died 8 August 1667.

Twenty-three years old.

My heart, pounding, I clicked on the church register, enlarging it so that it filled my screen. The handwriting was old, faded and pixelated, but it was tidy and easy to read. Carlisle Cullen, it read, with William crammed onto the line before the first name, in the same handwriting but obviously a different pen—the lines were narrower, slanted slightly differently. Born and baptized on February 17, 1644. Father, William Cullen number 2. And mother…

My heart sped. There, in the same scrawly hand—his father’s hand, I realized, it must be—was written the words, Sarah Cullen (Crawforth).

A quick “Open in New Tab” allowed me to pull all the records from the 1600s from St. James Aldgate and in five minutes, I had a birth date of November 15, 1620. And a death date, which was of course expected, of February 17, 1644. But it was the annotation here which was breathtaking—in a different handwriting, written by the midwife? Some other member of the parish?

Died babe in arms.

Tears sprang to my eyes, and with blurry vision, on a hunch, I ran one last search. Then I printed the pages with the documents, shoved them in a folder, and headed for my car.

#carlisle cullen #writing #my fic #teasers #one day the sun will rise

[skatetome]

hello!! could you please write elinor fairmont x fem reader? hope you have a nice day :)

More Locations Than Pages

Pairing: Elinor Fairmont x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1777 words

Warnings: FIRST KILL SPOILERS!! Fight description

Author's Note: This definitely could've been better, sorry anon :(. I used way too many time breaks. Anyways, thank you so much for the request! I hope you have a good day too!!

University was stressful — every single part of it. Even though you were in your sophomore year, the homesickness and constant pressure to succeed were still both as bad as they were freshman year. You valued the independence you received as a result of going to an out-of-state university and living in a dorm all alone, but there’s nothing you missed more than having your parents to go to when things got too stressful. You definitely didn’t adjust to that change during your first year here, and based on how you’ve been feeling recently, you probably won’t adjust to it during your second year, either. This university lifestyle was what you predicted to be amazing for your wellbeing, but it seems to be the complete opposite.

Your parents putting you under the impression that your grades were the only thing that mattered about you is the main reason university has been so difficult for you. Even after being moved out of their home for two years, the mindset they pushed on you for your entire life was obviously still very prevalent. The thoughts became so familiar to the point where you'd probably feel worse without them. There's a huge chance that your grades would decline, too. If your mind isn't constantly degrading you for every point you get off on an assignment, or telling you that you can put off your needs for a bit since you need to study, would your grades even be above a C-? If you gave up the rigid and intense habits after years of practicing them, what will that mean for your future? While abstaining from that lifestyle would give you answers to those questions, you simply don't feel ready to — at the moment, at least.

You stared at the empty document on your screen. What was supposed to be the first page of a paper with a seven-page minimum was nothing but a piece of digital printer paper that's been sitting in a printer for three weeks. Yep, you've had the last three weeks to write this entire paper. Sadly, for you, the paper was due tomorrow morning. It was currently 11pm, meaning you had twelve hours to write seven pages, which was absolutely impossible for you. You sigh and place your head onto your folded arms that rested on your desk. Your tired eyes glued themselves to the wood of the desk that lies right before them. The heaviness of your eyelids is quickly lifted at the sound of your phone going off. You raise your head from your arms and grab your phone. You reposition yourself into a less lazy seating position as you read and exchange messages with your girlfriend, Elinor Fairmont, or as you call her, Ellie.

———

hey can you come over to my place? it's urgent

sure, i'll bike over. see you in 5

love you. stay safe!

love you too!!

———

You grin as you turn off your laptop. Grabbing your mini backpack from the spot on the floor next to your desk, you stuff your laptop and its charger into it. You zip the top zipper closed and toss both the straps onto your shoulders. You approach the door of your dorm, open it, and lock it the moment you get out of the doorway. You make your way through the empty hallway, humming to the tune of a song that's been stuck in your head as you do so. Once you finally reach the exit, you push the door open and walk straight to the bike rack that rests next to your dorm building. You grab a key down from your pocket and unlock your bike. You walk it away from the rack and hop on the seat. You then start your route to Elinor's house, a route that's practically engraved in your head.

*****

You knock on the door of your girlfriend's house, laying with the straps on your backpack as you wait. You watch as Elinor runs down the staircase and towards the door. She grabs the doorknob and pulls the door open, waving you inside. The look on her face and her fast paced body language alarm you, as the reason she invited you over must've truly been urgent. She walks you up the staircase and pulls you by the wrist into her bedroom, seating you on the bed next to her.

"What's wrong? You seem to... panicked." You ask, concern starting to fill the newly-formed pit in your stomach.

"You're going to hate me." Elinor sighs, a worried smile plastering onto her face.

"I could never hate you, pretty. Just please tell me what's wrong so I can try to help."

You weren't lying. Ellie was perfect in your eyes, and there was truly nothing that could change that. You'd loved her for only a year and a half, but it felt like longer. The memories you two shared were similar to ones of true soulmates — which is where it seemed you and Ellie's relationship stood. You took your backpack off and placed it on the floor next to your feet, not breaking eye contact with Elinor as you waited for her to answer.

"It's a long story, but, basically, I got in a fight with these two guys and one of them tried to stab me but actually ended up stabbing the other guy. Juliette found my lipstick at the scene so she thinks I was the one who stabbed the guy. She stole my storage unit key and now she's with our distant brother Oliver and his girlfriend doing God knows what."

Her entire statement broke your heart. Knowing that she had gotten in a fight with two guys without you there to make sure she was alright was nauseating. The last thing you would want for Ellie is for her to get injured, or, in this case, actually stabbed. You couldn't imagine finding out the news, or even worse, watching her die. You felt one of your eyes fill with tears, which you quickly blinked away.

You and Juliette had always been on pretty good terms. Though you two didn't talk much, your shared conversations about dating girls were always enjoyable. That said, the attempt she was making to ruin Elinor's life with a murder accusation turned you away from her instantly. You couldn't believe that your girlfriend's own sister would do something like this. In fact, this whole situation was unbelieveable.

"Do you think Juliette and your brother will call the cops or something?"

"God I hope not." Elinor replies, plopping down onto the pillowed end of her bed as if she was getting ready to sleep.

"Do you want to get some sleep?" You ask the blonde, following her footsteps in laying down.

After seeing her nod sleepily, you pull the duvet over your two bodies. You bring Elinor closer to you, her head burrowing into your neck. You rub her back slowly, as you two doze off, cuddled against eachother.

*****

What sounded like hundreds of police sirens outside of the Fairmont house woke you up from your sleep. You blink a few times to adjust to the light before slowly removing our arms from Elinor's embrace. You get up from the bed and look out the window, seeing only the edges of red and blue blinking lights. You run back to the bed and stand by Elinor. You bend your knees a bit to get on her level before shaking her body lightly and whisper-shouting at her to wake up. It takes you about five shakes until her eyes started to open. You let go of her for a moment so she could wake up. Once she started to sit up, you pointed at the window as a way of silently showing her what was going on.

"We have to get out of here." You say, reaching your hand out for the tired girl to grab. She obliges and uses it to pull herself from her bed. She walked you both towards the window and let go of of your hand to open said window.

"Hop out, slide down the roof, and meet me down there.. we can run into town and hide, it's just down that hill over there." Elinor cried, the panic starting to settle into the two of you.

You nod at her and wiggle your way through the window frame, falling onto the slanted roof shortly after. You then slide down the roof and onto the grass, your back being the first and only part of your body to take impact. You sigh at the pain as you get up to stretch and wait for Elinor to follow you. You see the girl nervously make her way out of the house right after you. You back away a bit and watch as she slides down the roof and onto the ground where you stand. You reach both of your hands out for her to use to help her get up. You give her a quick peck on the lips before grabbing her hand and guiding the two of you towards the glowing lights of the city.

*****

After what felt like the two of you had run three marathons to get to the city, you rested on a bench to catch your breath. Elinor's head rested on your shoulder as your synced breathing began to slow down and return to a normal pace, similar to your heart rates. The tranquil silence you two had shared for who knows how long helped with your bodies going back to relaxation. Your minds have both slowed down too. The raging thoughts became less speedy and it was easier to come up with an escape plan.

"Do you, um, want to go get a room at that hotel down the street?" You asked your resting girlfriend.

"Sure, can you carry me, though?"

"The things I do for you." You roll your eyes and wrap your arms around your girlfriend to pick her up. You stand up and readjust so you can carry her bridal style. Before you start walking, Elinor pulls you in for a kiss that was well needed for both of you. You stay kissing for just a few moments before she pulls away. You stare into her eyes before pulling her into another kiss.

"That's the suspect!" A man's voice calls out. "In that woman's arms!"

You and Ellie pull away and look at the cops then back at each other. You start running down the streets of Savannah, Georgia with your criminal girlfriend in your arms and a seven-page paper you hadn't even started.

#elinor fairmont #elinor fairmont x reader #elinor fairmont x y/n #elinor fairmont x you #elinor fairmont x you angst #elinor fairmont x you fluff #kinda #elinor fairmont oneshot #elinor fairmont imagine #elinor fairmont angst #elinor fairmont fluff #skatetome #this was so bad i spent like 4 hours on it and it still turned out bad #sorry anon #not fishing btw #whoever requested juliette fairmont i will post it tomorrow probably at this same time btw #bye

[nelson-et-murdock]

Distracted - Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader

Summary: During the home stretch of your business law class that you’re enrolled in, you have a mock trial to prepare for. However, your boyfriend Matt Murdock has seemingly made it his goal to distract you when you head to his office for help on the opening statements and any arguments that you may need to make.

Warnings: AFAB reader, fem reader, suggestive but no actual smut but like almost smut, college-aged reader, mentions of a case that involves injury to a teenager, Age gap (Matt is around 30 and the reader is 23), heavy petting in Matt’s office

Not beta-read so any mistakes are mine

18+ MINORS DNI

Author’s note: I pulled the inspiration for the case from a real mock trial I was supposed to do during my business law class that got canceled due to classes going online. Reader is a business student.

Word Count: 1.6k

*not my gif*

You threw your head back in frustration trying to find a way to start the mock trial you were to be a part of tomorrow afternoon. Of course, you got stuck defending the camp that let a counselor take a group of kids on an outing without informing the parents, resulting in injury to one of the boys attending the camp. You understood having to take business law due to needing to know the basics of business but had no idea why your professor was making you do mock trials in the first place, let alone ones this complicated.

As you were flipping through the notes on the case, your phone buzzed pulling you from your thoughts. You answered quickly without checking who it was, “This better be important,” you said hastily, assuming it was your roommate.

“Wow sweetheart, that’s no way to answer the phone,” Matt responded on the phone, “want to give it another try?” he questioned, his signature smirk evident in his voice.

“Matthew, I already told you I need to get ready for this mock trial tomorrow,” you responded, frustration evident in the way you spoke.

“Well then love, it’s a good thing your boyfriend is a lawyer now isn’t it. Come over and I can help you,” he remarked.

“Remember the last time you were supposed to help me with school?” you questioned him, knowing full well he knew that the last time nothing school-related even slightly happened.

“It won’t this time,” he said, letting out a sigh before continuing, “I promise I’ll let you work if you meet me at the office.”

“Fine. See you in 5,” you said, hanging up the phone and gathering your schoolwork before starting the walk to Nelson and Murdock.

As soon as you walked into the office space, you were greeted by Foggy and Karen. “Matt’s in his office,” Karen said with a smile. “Did you come from school?” she questioned in reference to the business attire you were currently wearing, consisting of a button-down and a pencil skirt you rarely wore outside of presentations and interviews for internships.

“Yeah. Had a portfolio presentation for some international finance class that I am barely aware of what’s going on in,” you responded with a smile.

“That’s not a good sign for a business student,” Matt chimed in, now standing in the doorway to his office. Before you could come up with any type of comeback, he made his way towards you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders before turning to Karen, “I’m stealing her away so she’ll get this done,” he told her with a smile before leading you to his office, closing the door behind you. You started to make your way to his desk when you felt him tighten his grip on you, turning you to face him before he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Sorry, I had to make sure I got one in before you told me to leave you alone and let you focus,” he said with a smile as he pulled away.

Roughly a half-hour into working on your mock trial preparation, Matt started to get antsy, having missed your touch. While you sat typing on your laptop, he pulled the chair you were sitting in closer to his. “Don’t try it, Murdock,” you said, not even looking away from your laptop.

“You haven’t even typed anything yet,” he responded, placing a hand on your thigh and laying his head on your shoulder. “What is the case about and who are you representing?” he questioned, trying to keep his mind from wandering to your bare skin.

“A summer camp counselor took a group of campers out on an unauthorized trip. During which, it rained which apparently wasn’t in the forecast. A kid with diabetes that was not disclosed to the camp during sign-ups fell down essentially a cliff due to the combination of his blood sugar not being what it should have and the rain and now has brain damage and permanent injuries,” you said rather monotone as you read the notes you had written down, “and I am representing the camp and have to prove that they are not liable for the injuries the boy sustained.”

Matt smiled as he listened to you read off the information and nodded as you finished, “Sounds easy,” he said before kissing your cheek, “just focus on that the counselor isn’t fully responsible due to the lack of information needed from the boy and his mom.”

About halfway through writing the opening statements, with much help from Matt, Matt noticed that Foggy and Karen had stepped out of the office for at least a short amount of time. He got up and closed the blinds to his office before walking back to his desk, now hovering over your shoulder from behind. “Is there a reason you closed your blinds?” you asked, “Anything that’s going to happen in here can happen with the blinds open.”

“No, I just wanted them closed,” he said with a smirk. He then sat next to you, pulling you into his lap, his chest now against your back. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything I just wanted you to sit in my lap since it's been a week since we had any type of time together,” he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Almost as soon as you got back to typing, Matt was able to pick up on the amount of stress you were under due to your heart rate and how tense your muscles were. At first, Matt’s response to your stress was to tighten the grip he had on your torso and place a soft kiss on your shoulder. However, as time went on and you got more overwhelmed, now working on potential questions for cross-examination and to ask witnesses, you found yourself running your fingers through your hair and needing to stand up and stretch for a second, only to be pulled back down into Matt’s lap the second your shirt came untucked from stretching.

As soon as you were back sitting in Matt’s lap, he moved your hair away off your shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on your neck, “You’re really stressed,” he said before placing another kiss close to your ear, this one a little more aggressive and needy than the first, “you should take a break.”

“Matt, I- I can’t,” you stuttered out, trying your best to concentrate on your work while your rather needy boyfriend kept placing kisses on your neck, his left hand moving up your thigh and his right placed just under your throat, holding you flush against him.

“Just 15 minutes love,” he whispered in your ear, “you need a moment from your work and no one else is around.” You grabbed onto his hand that was making its way up your skirt and let out a frustrated groan in an attempt to hide that you knew Matt was right.

“I only need a few minutes to finish this, and then we can do whatever you want all night,” you said in response, leaning your head back to look at him.

“Or you could take a 30-minute break right now,” Matt said, unbuttoning your shirt with one hand, his other sneaking its way under your shirt and up your back as he spoke and placing a kiss on your pulse point, “and then you finish your work and we still go to my place afterward.”

You inhaled sharply, your body going against your mind. You tried to find the words to stop Matt, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t missed his touch. Matt took this as a sign to turn you around so you were now facing him, his hand snaking its way to your throat as he kissed your lips, needier and much more passionate than the one when you first walked into his office. You moved your hands to his hair, tugging slightly when you needed to breathe. “Was this your plan all along Mr. Murdock?” you asked, only to be met with a hum as he started to kiss and softly bite on your neck, both of his hands now pulling you against him.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle any potential noise in case Karen or Foggy were to come back as your fingers fumbled with the buttons of Matt’s shirt. In a swift motion, Matt picked you up and sat you on his desk, your skirt now bunched up around your hips. You pulled Matt closer to you by his tie that now loosely hung on his neck. As Matt’s lips reconnected with yours, you began to fumble with his belt buckle when the door to his office opened.

“Hey Matt,” you heard Foggy start to say before stepping out and slamming the door. The two of you hurriedly fixed your appearances and grabbed your things before stepping out of Matt’s office to join Foggy and Karen. “You said you needed to help her with school Matthew, not that I would end up walking into what I can only assume would result in a miniature Matt Murdock running around in 9 months had I not gotten back when I did.”

“We did get her school work mostly done first,” Matt said with a smirk as he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you against him, trying to make light of the situation.

“That’s all you have to say about the situation not ‘maybe I shouldn’t have been half-naked with my girlfriend in my office where anyone can walk in’?” Foggy questioned.

“No one told you to walk in with the blinds closed Fog,” Matt responded, “we are going to head out now though unless you need me here.”

“Go, just don’t do that in the office again,” Foggy told Matt, patting him on the shoulder as the two of you left, heading to Matt’s house to continue what you started.

#matt murdock fic #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil imagine #daredevil fic #matt murdock imagine #marvel #nmcu #mcu #marvel fic #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fic #daredevil netflix #charlie cox #daredevil #matt murdock #jj writes #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock x y/n #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock x you #matthew murdock x y/n #matthew murdock imagine

[miekasa]

Things the aot characters would match with u ?

Eren

Sneakers. It makes him somewhat giddy when you guys wear them at the same time, particularly if it was unplanned. 

He just thinks they look nice, and it’s something that you guys can match with that doesn’t look completely obvious or cringe. You can wear them at the same time or on your own, but for Eren it’s really just knowing that you’re wearing something he bought you.

Not matching matching per se, but one of my favorite things to think about is Eren having his key necklace, and buying you one with a lock on it. Again, matching but not over the top.

Jean

Maybe simple jewelry? Like plain, gold or silver bracelets/rings—nothing too much, but you guys still know it’s there. Watches might be a bigger splurge, but he’s willing to do it, especially if they’re nice and classy.

Once he knows you’re okay with jewelry, you’ve gotta be careful with him. He’ll ice you out if you don’t stop him. He has a sorta refined taste where you’ll get something, and think “Hey, this is really nice,” and then boom, the price tag could pay for your courses for a semester. 

Other little things like matching/coordinating phone cases, you guys each having mugs from the same place, even little charms on your keychains that match together.

Water bottles. This was more so him buying you one (and yes, it was an overpriced Hydroflask) to make sure you’re drinking enough water. If you don’t think he’ll force feed it to you if he notices that your bottle is heavy, then you thought wrong.

Levi

Lots of the things are pretty practical, and are the result of Levi buying it for you because he thought you needed it, or needed a better version of it; so, in a way, it’s not intended to match, but because he buys what he already has and knows works, you end up with a copy, so inadvertent matching 😌

For example, he’ll buy you mittens or gloves if you don’t have any, or if he thinks the ones you have are shit and need better insulation. They happen to be the same ones he has because he knows those work, so now you’re matching. Same goes for things like lunch boxes, water bottles, even the towels in your apartment.

Plants. Again, he probably intervened saying you need some source of fresh air in your house, or something smart like that. If you don’t have a green thumb, don’t worry because he’s practically taking care of it for you. Occasionally he’ll note how your plant is doing in comparison to his and it’s pretty cute to hear his little plant parent rambles while he’s watering them.

Matching aprons. It’s cute, don’t let him tell you otherwise; and if he does, you know he’s fronting, because he always wears his when he’s cooking, anyway.

Connie

Tattoos if you’re down for it. It can be as simple or stupid or extravagant as you want, you honestly have full control over the design even tho it’s going on his body please. He doesn’t care—he trusts you, and he wants to match with you, so whatever you want, wherever you want it!

Sneakers for him too, but I think he’d go as far as to have matching/coordinating outfits with you. Particularly sweats and crew necks and hoodies, and if you guys are traveling together, then you’re more than likely matching at the airport.

He probably put some stupid sticker or decal on your car that you’re stuck with now. Good luck. He put the same shit on his so at least you can look dumb together.

Armin

Stickers, whether it be on your laptop or phone case or water bottle or even just in your room; he’s got one and you’ve got one.

Stuffed animals. He has a lot that he just buys for you, but you guys go on a Build-a-Bear date and make bears of each other at some point, and it’s kinda cute. He keeps his on a shelf close to his bed so it’s safe and sound.

Stationary, like pencil cases and pens and such. They don’t have to be fancy with your initials engraved at the top, but you guys buy them in sets of 2 so you have the same stuff, and get cases to store everything that match, too.

Porco

Something cute that you put in his car that he doesn’t have the heart to remove, no matter how much he bitches about it. Like those little sticky rubber ducks with the glasses that go on your dash.

Gym bags. Yes, he’s a gym bro. No, he doesn’t care if you’re not. Allegedly they were “two for one” at the Adidas outlet, so now you’ve got one. It can double as a duffle bag if you’re not getting any practical gym use of it. 

You could probably get him to wear matching rings as long as they’re not too obvious; just a simple gold band is really the furthest he’ll go (he never takes it off, but don’t point it out or he’ll chuck it at you).

Mikasa

Some kind of accessory—bracelets, hats, necklaces, scarves. She’s into that kinda stuff, just don’t make a big deal of it when you’re in public or she’ll get embarrassed please.

Pins. You’ve got one on your jacket and she’s got one on her book bag or something. Again, they don’t have to be identical; you can get two different Pokémon, or references to a show you both like.

Lipstick. You don’t have to both wear it at the same time, but it’s still something sweet to have.

Sasha

Charm bracelets! The charms themselves don’t all have to be identical (tho at least one of them would be), but just the fact that you guys both have them and are collecting charms at a similar rate is cute.

Definitely matching cups or mugs or something of the like. Kitchen towels with the same pattern or each other’s initials on them. Matching shot glasses, too, obviously. 

Your home/lock screens match, too. Pictures of each other from the same day or of the same scenery or something. She always lets you know when she’s gonna change hers so you can change yours too.

Annie

Hoodies. They can be solid colored, or two if the same ones just in different colors. Hoodies are kind of her go-to look, and nothing that draw too much attention anyways; so she doesn’t mind having the same one as you.

Backpacks. Again, they don’t have to be exactly the same and can be relatively simple in design; and is something most people have anyway, so it’s not outlandish. She seems like a Kanken kinda girl, so you both can have one in different colors.

Pieck

Jewelry. Strikes me as the type to be okay with getting each other’s initials on necklaces or earrings or something, but it could also be more covert like having each other’s birthstones on a pendant.

Speaking of stones, you’re getting crystals whether you like it or not. They will be on your nightstand, they will be in your car, they will be in your jacket pocket, they might even be in your bra and don’t ask her how she got them there without you knowing. They’re in hers too if that makes you feel any better.

Hange

Jackets or sweaters. Wanna say matching cardigans in particular, and yeah, they’re pretty ugly but that’s the point! To bask ironically in the pointed ugliness of them all so much that it becomes cute to you.

Snow globes. Hange is obsessed with them, whenever you travel they collect one and sometimes even if they just pass a store at home and see two unique (translation: weird looking) ones, they’ll pick them up. So, congrats.

Socks with funky patterns on them. Beer bottles, weed plants, zodiac signs, dinosaurs—whatever Hange buys, they buy in packs of two so at least you’ll never run out of ankle socks.

#anonymous #aot x reader #eren x reader #levi x reader #levi fluff #jean x reader #porco galliard x reader #connie springer x reader #that's enough bye #nan*mi would have matching aprons n oven gloves too but i dont wanna think about that man alright #minicanons

[ateezmakemeweep]

seonghwa x reader x yeosang; love triangle au

word count: 35k

angst, fluff, smut

it was in your first class of the semester, intro to creative writing at nine a.m., that you met kang yeosang.  

you didn’t know what to expect from the college experience, leaving the safety and familiarity of your hometown to come to a new city full of strangers and endless possibilities.

one of them being an all-consuming, butterfly-inducing first love that you missed out on from years of being socially anxious and reclusive.

it all started when you showed up late to your first class, red-faced and flustered and apparently very forgetful.

you sealed your fate the moment you borrowed a pen from the cute boy next to you, sneaky looks and shy smiles eventually morphing into so much more.

september - freshmen year

you’ve seen movies and shows and even heard some things in the halls of your high school about college classes. how they were so much harder than anything you’d been exposed to but also came with more freedom.

you didn’t need a certain color or book for the subject, you could freely leave to go the bathroom or get a drink, you didn’t even have to show up for all the professor cared.

it was also known that there were many different types of people in college: the stereotypical frat boys, boasting about parties and girls as they wore cut-off shirts and showed up to class hungover.

there were the edgier teens and young adults, finding their own look away from the eyes of their parents with piercings and tattoos and brightly colored hair that caught the attention of the older, snooty professor.

and then there was everyone else.

students like you who, maybe, didn’t fit in anywhere yet or didn’t know where they were gonna fit in; but, truthfully, fitting in was the last thing on your mind.

because it was the first day of classes, bright and early in the morning, and you were scrambling into the grand brick building, panicked and breathless, as you searched desperately for room 204.

you set an alarm and got out of your dorm room and everything, a single dorm you are so eternally grateful you secured. but it was a few wrong turns and entering one of the wrong buildings on the other side that landed you your current fate.

winded with messy hair and slightly red cheeks as you entered what you were praying was the right room. the professor was still doing introductions via a powerpoint and barely sparred you a glance, allowing you to easily slip into the first available seat.

you took the professor doing her own introduction and going over the syllabus to catch your breath, calm down and relax yourself because okay, yeah, that was a bit of a mess but you’re here in one piece now.

you made it in without getting scolded, you didn’t fall on your face or trip over the outdated tan carpet and you’re pretty sure no one even noticed you.

“i’ll spare you the ice breakers because i know you guys are gonna get stuck with some in your other classes,” the professor said, another win for you because you can’t imagine anything worse than trying to talk to someone right now.

“i just have a few notes for you to take and then i’ll let you guys go early. how does that sound?”

there’s a chorus of replies muffled by the sound of students shuffling to open their bags, notebooks hitting the table and the satisfying but annoying click of new pens.

it’s upon opening your own backpack that you realized, not only were you late to your first day of college but, you’d forgotten something as simple as a pen.

you rummage through your bag, hoping one just slipped to the bottom and letting out a quiet, annoyed sigh as you come to terms with this. you should’ve just brought your laptop, you already see several other people them so it would’ve been fine.

why do you always have to-

“need one?”

the deep voice from beside you is low and whispered, long fingers attached to a veiny hand offering you a blue pen. you hadn’t even noticed who you sat down next to you, far too consumed in your embarrassment about being late to notice the very attractive, very nice man sitting right next to you.

he couldn’t help but notice you though, if the way your bag hit into his shoulder and the cute little sigh you made when you plopped down right next to him didn’t immediately grab his attention.

his interest was only peeked further when he heard you rummaging next to him, a slight flush on your exposed neck that he can only assume happens when you’re flustered.

his voice ripped you from your frantic searching, eyes meeting his as your breath caught in your throat.

they were deep and brown, with a soft light in them that kept you entranced for far too long. his hair was black and looked soft to the touch, hanging just above his eyes so it didn’t obscure his regal features.

“i... yes please,” you finally answer with a wince, taking the pen from his hold gently. “thank you.”

“no problem,” he responds cooly, keeping his eyes on you for a few fleeting seconds before turning back to the board.

taking notes and focusing on the professor’s voice keeps you occupied most of the time, the pen in your hand and the blue ink on your paper a constant reminder of the person sitting right beside you.

he doesn’t look like anyone you’d ever met before in your life.

sure, you’d had crushes on people from your school back home but that was only because they were nice to you. they weren’t like the majority who made fun of anyone who wasn’t like them - cool and popular and had an interest in going to parties and being social.

there was never anyone who looked like him though, so strikingly attractive and cool even though he’d only said four words to you; maybe this is just showing your inexperience, falling in love at first sight with a person who just gave you a pen and has a pretty face.

“alright we’ll wrap up here. i’ll see you guys next time!”

your professor’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, the rustling of people all around you bringing you back to reality.

you close your book and put the cap back on the pen, grateful you were too distracted by your thoughts to chew it absentmindedly - you probably would’ve had to drop the class if you had to give him back a chewed up, slightly wet pen cap.

you look next to you to see the boy is tucking two books under his arm, about to get up and leave for the day before your lowly spoken voice stops him.

“wait,” you say, quiet but abrupt as he turns around to look at you.

his eyes are soft and glinted with a certain type of amusement, one you can’t quite make out or have the ability to try and determine right now. you can only hold out his pen dumbly, your stare on him blank despite the slight flush to your cheeks.

it only deepens when he holds your gaze, eyes roaming your face before a smile crosses his face and make your heart jump inside your chest.

“it’s okay, keep it,” he says, nodding his head toward your bag.

“oh... are you sure?” you squeak out, “i don’t wanna leave you without an extra pen.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, everything about him, his presence, his laugh, his face making you grow even more out of sorts.

“i’ve got more, don’t worry.”

“oh. well, thank you!” you smile softly, tucking the pen in the pocket of your sweater. “i’ll be sure not to lose it.”

“cool,” he chuckles out, the sweet smile on his face causing yours to widen. “i’m yeosang.”

“y/n,” you introduce sweetly, a lingering silence between you two full of soft smiles and wandering eyes; you aren’t aware of that feeling hanging in the air, something so obvious and palpable when two people are immediately attracted to one another, but he feels it.

he felt it in the way he’d sneak glances at you, your brows furrowed as you took notes or the far away look in your eye when you dazed off with your cheek on your hand.

he didn’t know why he was immediately drawn to you, maybe something about your wide-eyed looks or sweet vanilla scent, but he was sure of two things: he needed to know your name and he had to get here early next class to get the same seat next to you.

november - freshmen year

it took yeosang two months to ask you out.

it proved to be one of the more challenging things he’d done within these past two months of school - not because he was nervous or thought you weren’t interested but because getting you to open up was incredibly trying.

he knew you were interested though, if the way you alcoholism when you saw him or continued to sit next to him was any indication of that.

you learned within the first few weeks of class that he was a freshmen like you, had an older sister who also went to this school and planned with his seven high school friends to all attend college together.

“that’s... kind of crazy,” you giggled, a smile on yeosang’s face hearing your laugh ring through the classroom.

the professor was running a few minutes late, leaving you and him and all your other classmates to chat amongst yourselves.

“do you live together?”

“unfortunately,” he says, the pain in his voice causing you to muffle another giggle into your hand. “i love them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like... constant chaos. and the house is always mess. it’s a miracle that i won rock, paper, scissors for a single room.”

“well that’s good then,” you say with a smile. “i have a single dorm here, too, actually.”

“oh?” he says, head cocked to the side questioningly. “did you wait too long to apply?”

“oh no, i actually... requested it,” you tell him quietly, a slight blush on your cheeks as you explain yourself. “i do better with my own space. i don’t know if i could be around someone, like, all the time. especially if they had different habits than i did.”

“i get that, completely,” yeosang says, a shudder going through him at the mere thought of some of his roommate’s different habits.

like how wooyoung rarely throws out leftover food before putting it in the sick, leaving disgusting, soggy food out that results in all of them gagging and screaming at him.

or how mingi insists on showering in the late hours of the night, the sound of water and pipes squealing ripping him from his slumber.

or, one of his personal favorites, how hongjoong must always have three pairs of shoes stacked on top of the shoe rack - no more, no less, or he says it throws off the rack’s equilibrium and sends him into a frenzy.

“but doesn’t it get lonely?” he asks, “what do you on weekends and stuff?”

“homework, sleep, sometimes go to a coffee shop and do more work,” you shrug, never realizing how much of a reclusive loser you seem to be until this very moment. “i’ve met a few girls from my classes but our project ended a few weeks ago.”

you felt the need to throw that in there, just so he knows you do in fact see other people from time to time.

“well you should come to one of our parties,” yeosang says with a smile.

“my sister’s friend always throws them at his house. they’re fun and don’t get too sloppy since it’s not people our age trying to catch up on the full college experience.”

dread pools in the pit of your stomach at the word party, not being able to picture anything worse than standing in a overcrowded house being surrounded by sweaty, drunk bodies and the stench of alcohol.

but that sounds far too harsh to say to yeosang, instead giving him a small sympathetic smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“i don’t know, i’m not much of a party person,” you confess quietly.

“oh, c’mon,” yeosang whines slightly, swinging his chair to face you playfully.

there’s a glint of something in his eyes, like he’d be fully prepared to beg and plead with you just to see you outside of the classroom or library.

“it’ll be fun! we’ll be able to hang out without finding our voice and engaging the audience.”

you giggle at the words that have left your professor’s mouth about seven hundred times this semester, cocking your head to the side as you looked at him pleadingly.

partially because, if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re gonna crack.

“i don’t go to parties much,” you tell him, a soft sympathetic frown on your face.

you really don’t wanna reject him. you wanna hang out with him outside of this class and school and engaging the audience but why does it have to be in that type of setting?

but it’s not like you can suggest any other setting.

because then it’ll seem like you’re asking him out on a date and that is something you definitely can’t do.

“why? are you scared?” yeosang teases, his eyebrow quirking up along with the smirk on his lips. “i’ll be with you the whole time. you can even meet my friends, they’ll be on their best behavior for you.”

you’ll never get used to the way he says your name. the way his deep voice makes it sound and how butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“yeosang...” you drag out in a slight whine, feeling bad at how eager he’s becoming and how much you really don’t wanna go. but you wanna go for him. you really, really do.

his smile widens at hearing you say his name, the sound of it falling from your pretty lips never failing to give him the same reaction. he wants to hear you say it more, in every way, in every setting, where people and his friends see that you’re comfortable with him.

“please, y/n?” he asks, his face leaning closer to yours.

your faces are mere inches apart, unaware to everyone else in the room sleeping on the tables or texting on their phones.

his eyes are roaming every bit of your face, lips quirked up in a smile that has your eyes falling down to his lips before back to his glinted eyes.

“for me,” he hums lowly, his smile turning to a smirk when he notices you swallow nervously.

“i really wanna hang out with you,” he says, his voice just above a whisper as he speaks to you and only you. “if you hate it that much, we’ll leave and do something else. but i want us to try. i want you to meet my friends and just have fun for a night with me.”

you let out a sigh, the air between you thick and charged as his eyes become more and more hopeful.

“i won’t leave you once. not even to pee.”

you narrow your eyes at him, pushing him back playfully and ignoring the hard muscle under your hand.

“i don’t wanna hang out with you if you’re gonna piss your pants.”

his deep chuckle booms through the room, waking a few students angrily while grabbing the attention of others. but he can only shake his head at you, eyes falling to your lips when he sees you press your teeth into the soft looking skin.

“then it’s a deal. as long as you’re there, i won’t piss my pants. how does that sound?”

you first met park seonghwa at that party on a friday night.

he was just in the midst of the many introductions and first impressions of yeosang’s seven roommates, sealing his fate as yeosang’s incredibly handsome but standoffish best friend.

you were more so focused on how handsome and happy the black-haired was to see you anyway, a smile lighting up his face the second he saw you emerge from your car.

driving yourself was a sure fire way to not drink and get shit faced, release your ever present desire and crush on yeosang in the form of a sloppy drunken kiss and embarrassing, stuttered confession.

“hey guys, this is y/n,” yeosang said, his hand guiding you by the small of your back. “the girl from my class, who-”

“you haven’t stopped talking about? yeah, we figured,” the friend he introduced as wooyoung chirps, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “you’re just as pretty as he said, y/n. do you want a drink?”

you can barely respond to the happy, chipper boy next to you, too distracted by his words and the pink flush creeping up on your cheeks.

“i... uh... no thank you,” you finally stutter out, an awkward giggle leaving your mouth. “i drove myself here so i can’t drink.”

“now why the hell would you do that!” wooyoung yelps, throwing you an incredulous look before punching yeosang in the arm.

“um, ow?!” yeosang says, a smile pulling at your lips at the sound of his voice.

“why would you invite her and not offer her a ride, you sick fuck? now she can’t drink and have fun.”

“i’ll still have fun,” you reassure wooyoung with a sweet smile. “i don’t drink much anyway. or come to parties, for that matter, so this is all gonna be a new experience.”

“oh shit, seonghwa, you hear that?” wooyoung says, nodding his head toward the dirty blonde with a sour look on his face. “she’s a recluse, too.”

“don’t call her that,” yeosang snips at the same time seonghwa says “don’t call me that.”

wooyoung only rolls his eyes before promptly getting whisked away to dance by mingi and san, leaving you and the others huddled around the couch and side table littered with their beers.

“i’m sorry about him,” yeosang says, breathless and defeated in a way only his oldest friend can make him. “he has no filter or knowledge of boundaries.”

“it’s okay, i like him,” you smile, your eyes meeting his and causing your heart to jump.

he looks better than he usual does if that’s even possible, his black hair hanging low and the faint smell of his shampoo wafting in your nose.

he’s wearing the same soft and sweet but amused expression he always has, the strangest mix of someone who looks like they’d be complete trouble but also someone you could bring home to your parents.

“then you’d be the only one,” yeosang chuckles out, the black-haired turning his head to his friend sitting on the couch. “right, hwa?”

“right,” the man’s deep voice booms, your eyes meeting at the same time.

he’s just as striking as seonghwa but not in such a boyish way. there’s a deep, brooding intensity to him that scares you ever so slightly, like he’s just as hard and cold as his expression says.

“do you wanna go meet the others?” yeosang asks, ripping your gaze away from seonghwa. “i think hongjoong and jongho are around here somewhere.”

“oh- sure,” you smile, looking back to seonghwa to see his eyes already on you. “nice meeting you, seonghwa.”

he hums a response before lifting the beer bottle to his mouth, legs spread and neck rolling to the side as if to deter anyone from sitting near him.

yeosang’s hand finds its way to the small of your back again, the warmth seeping through your shirt and making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“don’t mind seonghwa, he’s a grouch at these,” yeosang says, a small giggle leaving your mouth as you look back at him.

“he seemed nice,” you assure him quietly, your face way closer to his than you anticipated. you can almost feel his minty breath on your skin, warmth all around you as he guides you carefully.

“they all do.”

“good,” yeosang smiles, his thumb rubbing along your back before stopping you in front of two boys playing beer pong.

“you fucking idiot! you suck!”

“fuck off, this is my first time and i’ve gotten more than you!”

you and yeosang share a look of amusement before he clears his throat, the taller boy’s head snapping toward you both. his eyes light up in some sort of recognition, dropping the white ping pong ball and ignoring the way it bounces onto the floor.

“getting your ass handed to you, i see,” yeosang quips, jongho rolling his eyes before holding his hand out to you.

“i’m jongho, yeosang’s coolest and most talented friend.”

a smile lights up your face despite the more crowded and loud area, taking your hand in jongho’s as you introduced yourself.

“you guys are in the same class, right? tell me, how much does yeosang hit his head falling asl-”

“hey, yeosang!”

all of you crane your heads toward the new voice, a group of guys with red, glassy eyes and shaggy hair looking at yeosang expectantly. you don’t recognize them from any of your classes or around campus, figuring they’re older seniors or friend’s of his sister.

“we’re gonna smoke in the back? you wanna come?”

you’re all too aware of the hand on your back moving to your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in a way that’s oddly reassuring in the moment. like he knows this area is louder and more crowded and making you ready to bolt.

you’re only not because he’s next to you and his friends seem incredibly happy to meet you.

“nah, i’m good,” his deep voice reassures.

you watch the boy’s gaze shift from yeosang to you, eyeing your body up and down before it lands on your hips. a smirk crosses his face and he nods his head, an amused “ahh, okay,” leaving his mouth.

there’s an immature and embarrassing chorus of “oohs” and “ahh,” like the grown college men are actually in a class of immature elementary schoolers who just got in trouble.

yeosang only rolls his eyes and flips them off, your eyes widening just as he turns to you with a soft smile.

“my sister’s friends. they’re cool, just stupid as shit.”

you bite down on your lip so you don’t burst out laughing, giving him a small nod that makes his smile widen.

“you wanna try playing beer pong?” he asks, “i’ll drink your beers so you can’t use that excuse.”

your eyes narrow as you pinch him arm gently, his arm knocking into yours as he narrows his in return.

“fine,” you say, “but i’m gonna be bad. i’ve never played before.”

“jongho plays every weekend and is still terrible,” hongjoong says, patting you on the shoulder reassuringly. “so it’s fine.”

“i’m not terrible!”

but come to find out, after nearly three rounds, he was pretty terrible. either he was pretty terrible or you were the fastest learner in beer pong history at this institute.

“you’re gonna be bad?” yeosang mocks with a smirk, your hands awkwardly bumping as you walk around the block.

the house had gotten far too stuffy and crowded after the second round, the noise growing louder and bodies growing closer to you in a way that made you incredibly nervous.

it was fun at first, even you can admit that. but once it got too loud, your discomfort started to show itself.

your wandering eyes, your teeth in your lip, the way you were no longer laughing or high-anniversary hongjoong despite being on different teams. yeosang had caught on immediately, deeming the third game your last before you took a break outside.

the cold air was refreshing and just what you needed but yeosang’s warm body next to you is nice too. the way your cold hand grazes his warm one, the way you’ll look at him any time it happens and catch him already staring at you.

the way, if it wasn’t for him pushing you out of your comfort zone, you would’ve never gone to an unfamiliar party or played a round (or three) of drinking games.

“i didn’t expect to be good, if you could believe that,” you giggle softly, biting down on your lip as you watch your feet. they’d almost be in sync, if you weren’t a naturally fast walker and yeosang had a slower, smoother swagger of a walk.

“i don’t know if i can,” he says, his voice teasing and light as you walk in the darkness. “beginners luck maybe but it seemed like more.”

“well i’ll probably never do it again so i’m glad we discovered this tonight,” you say quietly, a small giggle leaving your mouth.

lost in the way your heart is pounding and butterflies are in your stomach, you don’t realize yeosang isn’t walking until he pulls you by the elbow gently. your back hits in front softly, your eyebrows furrowing as you turn to look at him.

you’re greeted by a look of mock hurt, yeosang’s eyes staring down at you causing another small smile to grace your face.

“what?”

“i thought you’d come back next week,” he says, voice so soft and sweet it makes the butterflies act up even more; he shouldn’t sound like this when he can also sound so scary and intimidating, the deep tone of his voice never failing to send your cheeks blazing.

“we had fun, no? i really like hanging out with you, y/n.”

for a moment you think you ruined something that barely started to build between you two. that the fleeting look of interest in his eye is gonna be shot to hell because he thinks you’re rejecting him in some way.

but you like him.

you really like him and you really like hanging out with him - you just don’t wanna do it in such a...crowded setting.

“i liked it, too, yeosang,” you confess immediately, faintly aware of his fingers toying with yours. “but... parties aren’t my thing. it got too crowded and i just get uncomfortable but i really liked hanging out with you.”

now he’s gonna think you’re stupid. silly and stupid and, quite frankly, weird that you can’t be in a normal setting for college students. maybe you should’ve just pushed through it, maybe you should’ve just-

“so no parties next time?” he asks, the hand toying with your fingers finally fully grasping your hand. the move makes your heart jump in your chest, the perfect fit of warmth and strength in your hand making you bite back a smile.

it doesn’t stop the blush from crossing your face, though, beyond grateful for the darkness in the sky right now.

“we can just hang out us, too. see a movie, go to dinner, whatever you wanna do.”

“so like a date?”

you don’t know why you blurt that out but you’re beyond embarrassed when you realize you do, your eyes growing wide and face heating even more; if the ground swallowed you up right now, you wouldn’t even mind.

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth and it only makes you more embarrassed, your gaze dropping and head falling ever so slightly.

he crouches so he’s staring up at you, a teasing smile on his face that brings a frown to your lips.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i-”

“yes, a date,” he says, successfully cutting you off as he rises to his full height and lifts your face to look at him. his finger’s resting under your chin and he’s standing even closer to you, eyes roaming you in such a way that makes you stare back dumbly.

“let me take you on a date. how does tomorrow sound?”

your eyes roam his for a few silent seconds, half because you’re in shock and half because you’re still embarrassed, until you realize he’s standing there awaitingly.

eyebrow quirked cockily and eyes full of amusement, like he somehow already knows you’re not gonna say no to him.

“i... tomorrow’s good,” you finally say, not being able to help the big smile that crosses your face.

the sight causes his heart to lift in his own chest, leaning down to press a soft and surprising kiss to your cheek. it’s simple and chaste and sweet but it makes every bit of you feel even more warm and happy, excitement bubbling inside you as he pulls back and interlaces your fingers together.

dinner and a movie turned into a very impromptu trip to the store for blankets, food and a picnic basket.

the restaurant yeosang planned on taking you to, a new italian restaurant in the center of town, had a two hour wait and the new romcom that followed was sold out for the night, leaving you and yeosang in his car trying to come up with a new course of action.

you insisted that you didn’t care what you did, that you could just go back to your dorm or his apartment and order take out or watch a movie there.

but he noticed you looking at the sky absentmindedly, a far away, fascinated look in your eye at the few visible stars and had an idea of his own.

he refused to tell you what you guys were shopping for, just that you’d see when you got there and could guess as you went along. it had all been so strangely intimate and domestic, yeosang pushing the cart as you threw things in after looking at him pleadingly.

“y/n, i told you to buy the whole damn store if you want. you don’t have to look at me like that over a box of cookies.”

you narrowed your eyes, insisting you will absolutely not do that.

“i just don’t know why you’re not letting me pay for anything. not even gas,” you whine.

he rolls his eyes silently as he pushes the cart along, a smile pulling at his lips as he walks past you.

“and you haven’t even told me what we’re doing!” you yelp after him, running after him like a child who doesn’t wanna lose their parent. he cranes his neck back as he raises an eyebrow, ushering you along to “find out what his genius plan is.”

when he goes down the bedding aisle telling you to pick out the fluffiest blanket, you look at him with suspicion all over your face. a smile pulls at his lips as he ushers you over himself, his hand lingering on your waist.

“this is the nice kind,” you tell him, a happy smile on your face even though it’s white and could very well be stained and destroyed.

“then put it in, pretty girl,” he says lowly, a squeal threatening to leave you as as butterflies erupt in your stomach. a smirk crosses his lips when he sees you get flustered, tightening his hold on your waist for a moment before dropping it entirely.

his real course of action starts when you guys are done shopping, fruits and cookies and crackers stocked in the cart along with a hidden gem he snuck under the cart tray.

it’s by a stroke of luck that, when you guys pass the bathrooms, you ask if it’s okay if you run in there quickly. he tells you to meet him in self check-out as he pays, hauling ass to the register and sticking all the items in a reusable bag.

you come out with a sympathetic smile, asking him for the tenth time if you could please give him some money for tonight’s date.

“absolutely not,” he insists, grabbing your hand so naturally, it’s like you guys have done this for longer than two days. “it didn’t go the way i intended so i have to make it up to you.”

“no you don’t,” you whine quietly, looking up at him as a biting gust of winds sends you shivering. “this is fun, too. you’re just nice to be around.”

a smile lights up his face as he peeks down at you, his hold on you tightening before you quickly reach his car.

you ask where you guys are going for half the ride, a mischievous and coy smile on your face as you beg him to tell you where you’re going and what you’re doing.

you face him the entire time you do so, your fingers toying with his on the middle console. he doesn’t give you any hints but makes sure to keep his hand in yours, soft, sweet chuckles leaving his mouth when you let out more whines and groans.

“just a little longer,” he insists, the warmth of the car and his hand causing your head to rest on the seat.

it’s all very comfortable and calm, the quiet hum of his car nearly lulling you to sleep until you feel the car stop.

your head pops up and your eyes widen when you see you’re down by the beach, about an hour from your town and causing your eyes to gape at him - he just drove this far for the beach in the middle of november.

“the beach?” you ask, a confused smile tugging at your lips. you love it here and you’re certainly not mad, you spend most days in the summer down here, but you guys definitely can’t go in the ocean right now.

“yup,” he says simply, turning off the car before silently getting out. you watch him through the window as he opens the back door, carefully taking out the bag full of food and blankets before making his way to your side.

you send him a smile when he opens your door and extends his hand, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth as you take his hand. he interlaces your fingers and your hands swing between you two, the chill from the ocean biting and cold but also slightly refreshing from the car’s heat.

“so...” you say once you two stop on the sand, the grains lumpy under your sneakers. you’ve never seen the beach this dark and desolate and it would absolutely unnerve you if yeosang wasn’t beside you. “what exactly are we doing here?”

“you mean you don’t wanna swim?”

your expression causes him to chuckle, disconnecting your hands to lay out a blanket on the sand. your next expression, however, warms his heart more than he’s ever felt before.

your eyes widen as they look at him, a surprised and excited gasp leaving as he pulls out a medium-sized picnic basket.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.”

you look up to see the soft smile he’s sending your way, his hand reaching out to cup your cold, red cheek. his thumb rubs over the cold skin for a few seconds, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is too much too soon.

the way you lean into him makes his heart start to pound just a little bit, his head cocked to the side as his eyes roam your face - you look so pretty, even with early signs of windburn.

“of course, pretty,” he mumbles quietly, that word again causing the butterflies to return. “thank you for coming on this date with me.”

you eat your sandwiches and fruit huddled under a blanket together, him wiping a crumb from your face and you throwing a stray piece of cheese at him when he calls you messy.

it’s all very tranquil and comfortable, like you guys have known each other for longer than two months. it’s still just enough time to still be unsure though, if your touches are too much or the way you’re looking at each other is setting yourselves up to be hurt.

you couldn’t care about any of that right now, though, laying down on the blanket and looking up at the sky with yeosang by your side.

you started off close, arms brushing before they eventually stayed glue to each other, and now you’re even closer. your head is just mere inches from resting on his chest, a shiver running through you that acts as the catalyst of him pulling you closer to him.

“c’mere” he mumbled lowly, your body immediately moving closer to hm until his warmth and woodsy scent surrounds you. you smile into his sweater, toying with the ends before his large, veiny hands covers your smaller, cold one.

“this was a really smooth idea, you know,” you say after a few moments of silence, eyes threatening to closer and body relaxing if you continue to lay here in the most comfortable silence of your life.

“oh?” he says, hearing the smile in his voice.

“yeah,” you say, tentatively turning to look up at him. there’s a look in his eye that makes you feel comfortable enough to rest your chin on his chest, your eyes briefly falling to his lips. “i think this was better than dinner and a movie. the stars are really pretty.”

a small smile grace his face as he looks at you, hand reaching up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. all of his moves and touches tonight have been slow and gentle, like you’re a piece of glass he has to be fragile with.  

you’ve never been treated like that before and it makes your heart flutter, the sweet look in his palpable even in the darkness.

“they are,” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving you as his hand gently moves down your face.

your skin is smooth and cold and he doesn’t think he ever wants this moment to end. the closeness, the wide-eyed look you’re giving him, the way he feels so content and at ease, it’s like he doesn’t know how he lived peacefully before this.

“when’s our next date gonna be?”

a smile lights up your face as a cute giggle leaves your mouth, his hand on your chin constricting your movements ever so slightly.

“this one isn’t even over,” you tease lightly, eyebrows raising playfully. “what if when it ends, you don’t wanna see me again?”

“and why would that happen?” yeosang asks curiously, genuinely confused and positive that that wouldn’t be the case. because as he pulls your face a tad closer to him, your amused expression dropping to one of a surprise, he’s certain of two things.

he’ll never get tired of seeing you and he wants to kiss you right now.

“because, right now,” he starts again, voice low and deep that effects every part of your body. “i wanna kiss you more than anything. and then make sure i see you soon, as soon as possible, really, so i can do it again.”

you swallow nervously as you look at him wide-eyed, the confidence and sureness in his words causing your eyes to drop to his lips again.

you meet in a kiss half way that’s just as gentle and sweet as it is fulfilling. it’s a kiss that shows it’s your first time kissing each other but that’s what makes it so nice for both of you.

it’s slow and chaste but everything about it is pure. there’s no other intention than just kissing, testing out and acting on the attraction that was building the moment you saw each other.

he moves you on your back gently to hover over you more comfortable, your eyes closed as your arms wound around his neck. he doesn’t even make a move to deepen the kiss in any way, his tongue barely flicking out to trace the outline of your lips.

it’s then you pull back breathless, looking at him above you with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest.

“i... i want that, too,” you admit quietly after a few seconds, his eyes on you and yours on him.

because you wanna see him again, you wanna see more of his smile and hear more of his laugh and get to know the boy who briefly his way into your heart and mind so quickly.

“good,” he mumbles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before pecking the other one with a smile. “that makes me happy.”

you wanna kiss him again but he flops back down beside you before you can daringly initiate one, pulling you atop his chest again as he wraps his arm around you.

it takes everything in you not to fall asleep right there and then, feeling so comfortable and safe beside him, you’re excited to see how your next date is gonna go with him.

febuary - freshmen year

your second date turned into many more, becoming more comfortable and familiar with each other until, one night, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

it wasn’t anything grand, just after a night of late night drives and fast food run. your feet were up on the dash and you fed him salty, fattening fries with the moon as your witness.

he looked over at you occasionally, watching as you sipped from your drink or took a bite of your sandwich and realized in that moment, he needed you to be his.

officially.

because as far as he was considered, you were his and he was yours after your first date stargazing.

“y/n?” you hear him say, your mouth still connected to the straw as you guzzle down your soda. you move your gaze to see him looking at you, nervously swallowing your drink as your eyebrows pull together.

“what?” you ask, immediately wiping at your face and mouth. “is there something on my face?”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head, eyes roaming you for a few more seconds before his hand is resting on your face. the movement causes your heart to stutter, eyes widening and heart starting to pound.

you hope he can’t hear it. you think there’s about a 40% chance that he does and those odds are way too high for you.

“i like you,” he says.

the confession is short and sweet and everything about it is genuine. the way his voice drops and he’s looking at you with such a soft fondness, you can’t find the words to respond.

“i really like you, y/n,” he mumbles, his thumb slowly caressing the side of your face.

every stroke of his finger makes your heart pound more and more, your eyes looking up at him with a palpable look of, both, fear and fondness. because you like him, too. you really, really like him but that scares you a little.

so does the way he’s looking at you, touching you so softly and sweetly and not tearing his gaze away from you.

“i want you to be mine,” he finally says, breaking the silence in the car. “will you be my girlfriend?”

his friends took the news of your relationship just as you expected, excited and overwhelmingly supportive, with a few lingering eyes that went unnoticed by everyone.

but that’s because he made sure to keep it that way.

you didn’t go to yeosang’s often but when you did, you made sure to talk and hang out with each and every one of them. some of them were crazier and chattier than others but you found it all very endearing - no matter how overwhelmed and scared it made you.

seonghwa was the only one who seemed to be on your level, able to sit in a room and observe without saying much unless directly spoken to.

you haven’t talked to the handsome boy a lot, just casual greetings and goodbyes, but you just knew you were intimidated by him. he always held such a stern, hard expression on his face, dignified and serious in a way that just didn’t seem to match the group.

the only times you’d see him crack a smile when the boys would start brawling or hongjoong said a corny, uncharacteristic joke.

he did’t make you feel uncomfortable or unwanted though, he always said hi and always made you feel welcomed by making extra food for you or automatically setting an extra spot for you.

it was subtle but it was nice, always making you feel just a little more welcomed by yeosang’s friends - but when valentine’s day came, yeosang did everything in his power to let his roommates know they were not welcomed in their own home for the night.

“what?!” wooyoung screeched when hongjoong broke the news to them. “where the hell are we supposed to go on valentine’s day as seven single losers?! and then get a hotel?! are you nuts?”

yeosang only stared blankly at the boy as groans of protest were heard from the others, grumbles of “who said i’m single?” and “i’m not a loser,” throughout the  apartment.

“when did i say you could never come home you dramatic fuck?” yeosang sneered, “i just asked for a few hours!”

he had been tormenting himself for weeks about what to do for valentine’s day  with you. you insisted over and over again that, really truly, you didn’t want to do anything.

but he thought you deserved it and he’d never actually had a girlfriend during this god forsaken holiday - he had to try it at least once and what better time than with someone like you?

“that might be the problem though,” seonghwa said to him one night, after hearing his friend carry on for hours and hours.

yeosang looked to his friend on the couch with a confused expression, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes.

“she doesn’t like crowds or loud noises. you think it’s really a good idea to bring her out to a restaurant or public place on valentine’s day?”

naturally an extrovert, yeosang would’ve never thought that to be an overwhelming or distasteful prospect. the booming voices of people and laugher and music was something he’d loved all his life but, seonghwa’s right, you don’t like that.

you didn’t like it at the party and you don’t like it here. you don’t like when a restaurant or movie theater is too crowded, always choosing an area that’s more secluded and quiet.

“shit, you’re so right, hwa,” yeosang says, slapping his friend on the arm gratefully. “maybe i’ll just make her dinner here. we can stay in, that’ll be nice, right?”

seonghwa gives a disinterested shrug and yeosang can see he lost his friend already, wondering how the dirty blonde even knew that until he remembers, he’s the same way.

avoids crowds and big outings like the plague, only humoring them because they’d all annoy the shit out of him if he didn’t. and he thinks if seonghwa had a valentine, he’d wanna do the same thing with them.

“okay, okay, okay,” wooyoung says, the only one of the seven that had shit to say per usual. “we will go out and get shit faced if you insist. cry about our sad single lives and the fact we’re not loved this year. but... i ask that you save some left over food and buy us at least two drinks.”

hongjoong knew to rush the boys out of the apartment in a timely fashion after that, already seeing in his mind the brawl that wold ensue between yeosang and wooyoung - and once that happens, everyone else will pick sides and create more chaos.

it leaves yeosang with a little over two hours to prepare the house and dinner, lighting a candle and throwing nonsense into any closet that would fit in until the aroma of spices and flavors filled the air.

he told you to come at seven on an empty stomach, that he’d be providing drinks, dinner and dessert and to not even try bringing him a gift the same way you requested; but when you show up at seven on the dot with a cute little pink bag, he sees you did’t listen either.

“baby... i told you i didn’t need anything.”

“and i said the same thing,” you whine, poking him in the stomach lightly as you walk through the apartment.

it’s the most spotless you’d ever seen the place, a soft touched smile on your face as you picture him scrambling to clean and get the boys out.

“you even cleaned.”

“please, i made the boys do it before i kicked them out.”

“yeosang!” you squeal, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend of two months. “you didn’t have to do that!”

“believe me, i did,” he assures, pulling you by the hand to the table set for two. he pulls out your chair and you bite back a smile, mumbling a quiet “thank you,” as you watch him prepare two plates of food.

the idea of this always embarrassed you, a cheesy romantic dinner with candles and chivalry and a boyfriend who looks at you so lovingly. but now that you’re here, you know you’ve never felt this happy before.

that seeing him do this for you and only you is one of best feelings in the world; you’re still not crazy about valentine’s day, you find it all very cheesy and dramatic, but you think it just has to do with the fact that you’re with yeosang is why you’re so happy and touched tonight.

“this is good,” you hum through a mouth full a food, a smirk on his face as he reaches over to dap at your messy lips.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer through narrowed eyes, yeosang’s deep melodic laugh quickly melting your annoyed expression way.

“you look pretty.”

your brows pull together in confusion, slurping noodles into your mouth at the exact moment he says that.

you look down at your outfit in contemplation, a simple comfortable outfit you were excited to wear when he asked if you wanted to stay in for valentine’s day.

you were shocked when that was the plan he came up with, knowing that yeosang enjoys going out and socializing every day and night; but that’s what happens when you’re good at it. when you’re so charismatic and joyful and just so naturally draw people into you.

he asked if you wanted to go to dinner or a movie or do a crazier type of date but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. just told him he can plan it and you’ll go along with whatever he wants.

you ended up getting a text from him asking if you just wanted to stay in. that he’d cook for you and you guys could just hang out and watch movies as long as they weren’t cheesy romantic comedies.

“why do you look so surprised?” he chuckles, ripping you from your thoughts as a small, shy smiles finally rises on your face - you don’t feel very pretty, in fact, you thought you actually looked kind of sloppy.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, a blush creeping up on your face as you twirl your noodles.

you feel his gaze boring into your face, pressing your lips together before finally raising your eyes to him.

“what!” you squeal, face heating up even more in a way that causes a deep, melodic chuckle to leave yeosang.

“you’re cute, that’s what,” he says, eyes roaming your face before they fall on the small, pink gift next to you. “and it’s because you’re cute i’m not mad you got me that.”

you follow his eyes to the bag by your elbow, huffing as you meet his mock harsh gaze.

“how could i not get you something?” you whine. “you never let me buy anything ever! and you made all of this food.”

he watches as you slurp up the last of your food, smiling gratefully at him before standing up from your chair. you take the bag next to you and pad over to him shyly, holding out your hand awaitingly.

he looks at it before meeting your gaze, eyebrow quirked with a smile pulling at his lips.

“what?”

“i wanna give it to you before i do this dishes.”

“like fuck.”

your eyes widen as a laugh bubbles out of your mouth, smacking him in the arm lightly before he loops an arm around your waist. you fall into him with a squeal, your heart stuttering when you’re suddenly in his lap and he’s smiling down at you.

“i- it’s only fair,” you manage to stutter out, feeling silly for being flustered over being in his lap. “you cooked all of this for us.”

there’s a pout on your lips that he can’t help but notice, next to the wide-eyed innocent shock that’s always behind your eyes.

when he pulls you in his lap the same way he did now, watching you shift and move on him in ways he doesn’t think you realize what you’re doing.

when make out sessions turn more intense, his lips trailing down your neck and his hands squeezing your hips that has tiny, small pants leaving your mouth.

when he gets more bold and tells you all the things he wants to do to you when you’re ready, lowly mumbled in your ear so he can pull back and see just how red and lustful you are at the thought of his head between your legs.

he didn’t wanna rush any part of your relationship in that regard.

one because he liked you, he really, really liked you and it wasn’t about that for him, and two because he just knew you hadn’t done much before and didn’t want you to feel pressured in any way.

it didn’t stop his own desires from surfacing. from him getting hard with you on top of him and jerking off to the thought of you when you two would part ways.

it’s feelings he’s trying to push down right now, your wide-eyed look staring at him as a soft, sweet smile pulls at his lips.

“and i’ll clean it for us, too,” he mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist loosely before his eyes move to the bag - the disdain in which he looks at it could only be described as incredibly dramatic.

“once you see what it is, you’re gonna feel bad for looking at it so meanly,” you say with a swat to his chest, dangling the bag in front of his face.

his interest is peeked, a mischievous look behind his eyes that makes your cheeks flame. a soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes the bag from your hand, carefully taking out the festive pink and red wrapping paper.

the first thing he feels is cool metal, his hesitant gaze move toward you only to be met with a soft, encouraging smile. he rolls his eyes playfully, unveiling the gift that has his heart jumping in his chest.

it’s a framed photo of you two he’s never seen before, you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you as his arm rests around your shoulder.

he recognizes it from one of the parties he took you to a few weeks ago, the pretty red dress you wore with black tights under leaving him unable to tear his eyes away from you all night.

there’s even picture proof right in front of him, his gaze so soft and sweet on you he feels the slightest hint of an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

“you looked so pretty that night,” he mumbles lowly, a low, short chuckle leaving his mouth that has your stomach swooping dangerously. “who took this picture?”

“who do you think?” you quip sarcastically, remembering half the night you were hiding from one particular friend with black hair and a high-pitched laugh.

“wooyoung’s stupid ass,” yeosang grumbles, his finger sliding over the cool metal of the frame.

he has a lot of pictures of loved ones and likes documenting moments with family, friends, even the people he meets once but has a great experience with. but this picture is by far his favorite, the way a smile is stretched across your face and how comfortable you look beside him.

“thank you, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i love it, my new favorite picture.”

“i wrote something on the back, too,” you tell him sweetly, cheeks warm as you watch his eyebrows pull together.

he looks at you for a few moments, smiling when your lips quirk up and you nod your head encouragingly.

when he flips it over, he sees your neat handwriting in red ink with i’s darted with hearts.

i really like you, too :) happy valentine’s day ♥

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth, cheeks turning pink as he throws his head back and looks at you fondly.

“i never said anything after you asked me out because i was too nervous and shocked,” you tell him honestly, his smile widening as he watches you speak. “so i just wanted to assure you.”

“thank you, baby,” he laughs out, placing the picture down and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “i’m glad you’re letting me know two months into this that you do in fact like me.”

a squeal of protest and defense tries to leave your mouth before he shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss to your lips that you immediately meet. it’s chaste despite the way you’re in his lap, your mouths parting and his tongue licking along your bottom lip.

“your turn for a gift,” he says when he pulls back, both of you slightly breathless. “go wait on the couch.”

“but i wanna do the-”

“i’m just gonna stick them in the dish washer,” he tells you, the look in his eye proving you’re not gonna win this conversation. “just find something for us to watch, okay?”

you stare at him for a few seconds, his gaze and face unwavering causing you to let out a groan and jump off his lap. he smirks to himself as he begins to clean off the table, watching you pad over the couch to turn on the tv.

you seem comfortable in his house.

you look like you belong there and that makes his heart pound in his chest the whole time he puts the dirty dishes away.

he sneaks into his room to grab your gift before joining you, plopping down on the couch next to you and causing a tiny, surprised squeal to leave your mouth.

“you scared me!” you giggle, a quiet “sorry,” leaving his mouth as he starts to  dangle a small white bag in front of your face. your eyebrows pull together as you snap your head to him, a content, almost conniving smirk on his face.

“yeosang...”

“i never said dinner was your gift so stop looking at me like that,” he says, his hand on your cheeks squeezing them together lightly.

your lips are pushed together and pouted and he has to resist the urge to kiss them, your eyes shooting daggers into him the only thing holding him back from doing so.

you take the bag with a small sigh, your eyes softening when he smiles down at you.

your heart nearly drops when you see a small black box wrapped in the white, glittery paper, your wide eyes meeting his that makes him throw his hands up innocently.

“not an engagement ring, don’t worry.”

a snort leaves you as you hit his arm playfully, licking over your lips before opening the box with shaky hands.

the first thing you notice is the amount of diamonds.

small, sparkly diamonds in a crescent moon shape that makes your eyes widen. it’s shining under the faint light of living room, the tv blaring and candles from the table filling the room with the aroma of cotton candy and sugar - courtesy of jongho’s love for festive candles.

“yeosang...”

the gift leaves you just as speechless as it does emotional, tears pricking your eyes because while you love it and you’re so grateful, he didn’t have do this; you didn’t expect any gift from him since he cooked you dinner tonight.

“do you like it?”

“of course i like it, i love it,” you’re quick to say, the feeling in your chest the biggest indication of that. “but i didn’t need this, yeosang. it’s too much.”

“it wasn’t,” he insists with a small, half-amused pout, his hand running through your hair before caressing your cheek gently. he smiles when you lean into his touch, thumb running along your smooth skin.

“i saw it and i thought of you.”

you look from him down at the necklace in your hand, a small smile on your face at the memory.

your arms grazed as you laid out on the blanket together, the cold chill in the air bringing your bodies closer and closer together. neither of you even noticed until the warmth of other’s skin sent shockwaves through you, a blush on your cheeks and a shy smile on his face.

“this was kind of better than dinner and movie i think,” yeosang’s deep voice says, breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over you. you rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, a small smile on your face as you nod your head.

“i think so too,” you say sweetly, sticking your cold hands under the blanket. “definitely the best first date.”

a soft smile crosses his face, his cold hand cupping your cheek as his gaze roams over your face. the light of the moon is the only source of light tonight, shining in your eyes with a look that’s making his heart pull in his chest.

he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, the fascinated, content look on your face as peered up at the sky. take in the sight of shining stars and the crescent moon and the dark waves crashing on the shore.

it’s a sight that’s gonna remind him of you now. the moon and the stars and the distinct feeling of being content and at ease on the beach at night.

“good,” he says with a sense of finality, pressing a sweet, chaste peck to your lips. he smiles when you meet it back hesitantly, everything about it innocent and slow and just how he wants to pursue you.

“the moon’s gonna remind me of you now so i hope our second date goes well too.”

“our second date went well,” you mumble, toying with the necklace in your hand as you observe the amount of diamonds.

you’re almost uncomfortable at the thought of having something like this around your neck, knowing it was expensive and that you’ve never received a gift like this before.

“it did,” he says, the slightly crestfallen look on your face casing him to frown. “do you not like it? is it cheesy?”

your face falls the second you hear those words, the rapid shaking of your head causing a smile to pull at his lips.

“no! no, no, no, of course not,” you’re quick to reassure, guilt building in the pit of your stomach.

“i love it. i really, really, love it and it’s so beautiful. but i didn’t need a gift like this, yeosang. i feel bad that you got this and i got you a $15 frame with a secret picture.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rolls his eyes, shutting you up with a kiss to your lips. his hand weaves through your hair and you make a tiny noise against it, clutching the necklace in your hand tightly.

“i wanted to get you it,” he says when he pills back, slightly breathless as he looks down at you.

“it wasn’t about the money. i love that picture and what you wrote on the back,” he teases, your eyes narrowing despite the embarrassed flush on your cheeks. “so don’t feel bad and please accept the gift, baby.”

he must see something in your eyes that shows him he won, a proud smirk on his face as he takes the necklace from your hold and brings it around your neck.

his hands graze your hair before touching the sides of your neck, the feel of his skin on yours causing you to bite down on your lip. his smirk widens as he struggles to clasp the necklace, all nervous feelings subsiding when a small giggle leaves your mouth.

“are you having a tough time?”

“no,” he grumbles, another small giggle leaving your mouth until you’re suddenly pushed down on the couch - necklace successfully on and back pressed up against the cushions.

all laughs and smiles are completely wiped off your face with the pressure of his body on yours, his smirking face above you causing your breath to quicken.

“oh? are you having a tough time now?”

he sounds so cocky and teasing, it should make you narrow your eyes. tease him with just as much of a conniving, wise-ass tone and smug look. but instead, your stomach swoops and your eyes move to his lips and like there’s a break in a dam, your mouths meet in the start of a fervent kiss.

he holds himself above you, tongue slipping in your mouth as he swallows your small, quiet moans. his hand trails itself down the side of your stomach to rest on your hip, the pressure of him and his lips on yours all consuming.

your hand travels to the back of his head, tugging lightly at the strands before a squeal leaves your mouth.

his deep chuckle rings through the quiet apartment as he lifts you up, plopping you down on his lap before connecting your lips again.

it’s the fastest you both have ever moved, your hands toying with the bottom of his shirt while his hands grasp your hips tightly. pulling your body closer to his  and moaning into his mouth when you rub against him a certain way.

you feel him smirk against your lips, pulling back every so slightly to catch the growing hint of lust and desire in your gaze.

“oh? that feel good?”

your cheeks flush at the tone of his voice, swallowing the embarrassed lump in your throat as you nod your head timidly.

“let me know when you wanna stop,” he mumbles, his words kissed along your neck making you sure you never want him to.

your mouths connect again in a fit of tongues meeting and bodies crashing, foreign feelings of arousal coursing through your veins. you guys always took things slow but you were never sure why - if he was doing it for you or if he just didn’t wanna do that step.

but you were secretly even hoping tonight, you’d be able to go further.

that’s why when his hands trail along the bottom of your shirt, warm fingers dipping under to touch your skin, you move into him even more. pulling back to look at him through hooded eyes as you nod your head.

you don’t even have the time to feel apprehensive when you’re sitting there in just a lace bra, exposed and slightly cold with goosebumps on your skin, because yeosang’s quick to assure you.

look at you with a soft, sweet fascination and tell you how beautiful you look for him.

both your shirts hit the living room floor before he’s scooping you up, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth that brings a smile to his face.

he plops you down on the bed shoved in the right corner of the room, clothes littering the floor and a mess of wires near the desk. it’s a little messy but it smells surprisingly clean, like a mix of cologne and yeosang’s natural teakwood scent.

“we don’t have to do this,” he says, his body looming above yours.

because you guys really don’t have to do this, he’d be perfectly content watching movies tonight with an inkling of kissing or touching, but, fuck, does he want to.

he’s wanted to hear you moan and touch you and taste you since you both started dating. since he looked at you under the stars and knew he’d fall for you shortly after.

“i want to,” you confess, a soft blush on your cheeks as you look up at him,

he rolls his tongue over his lips, biting down every so slightly in a way that makes your lower stomach tighten in desire. the look in his eyes is too much, it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before. like he wants to-”

“i want to ruin you,” he mumbles, bending down to press a peck on your neck. “i won’t do it tonight,” he continues, trailing his lips down your chest before bringing his hand to the lace.

his finger traces the red material, sliding one of the straps down before tugging down your bra. his eyes move to your nipple, hardening in the cold air as he feels his cock do the same.

“i’m gonna be slow and gentle and so good to you, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your exposed boob. his lips are so close to touching your skin, the warmth and wetness bringing tingles to your skin.

“i only ask that you moan for me, okay?” he mumbles, his tongue swiping across your nipple causing a choked, strangled gasp to leave you. you feel him smirk against your skin and can’t even be embarrassed by it, just wanting more of him and more of the pleasure he’ll give you.

“doesn’t seem like that’s gonna be a problem though, pretty girl,” he chuckles out, mouth closing around your nipple again as his hands trail down your side.

every sensation seems heightened and overwhelming, completely aware of how heavy your breathing is and the building pit of desire in your stomach. desire that heightens when his hand ghosts past your pants, his middle finger tracing small circles through your leggings.

he can feel your legs widen and a smirk crosses his face, sucking at your nipple once more before pulling back and meeting your lips. you moan at the feeling of his fingers moving quicker, a strangled “yeosang, please,” catching you off guard as much as him.

but it seems to get things in to motion - because your leggings are done and your skin hits the cold air a few moments later, yeosang tugging his shirt over his head before his hands are back on you.

you’re laying beside him, head resting on his bare chest when he slips his hand in your underwear. rubbing quick, skilled circles on your clit as your breathing labors and you whine into the air.

“have you ever been touched like this before, baby?” he mumbles, a shake of your head causing him to stop his movements all together. you whine at the loss of pleasure, looking at him with glossy, confused eyes that makes him hold back a smile.

he likes seeing how desperate you got. how ready and willing and eager you are for him.

“have you ever been touched like this?” he repeats, a croaked whine of “no,” leaving your mouth that makes him smile. continue his blissful strokes on your clit as a finger slowly enters you.

you’re so wet that you welcome the stretch with a moan of pleasure, a deeply grumbled “fuck,” causing your eyes to roll back when he hesitantly adds another.

“you’re so wet, baby. you’re so fucking wet for me.”

you nod dumbly, not being able to find the words as his pointer and middle curl  and he fucks you with his fingers. you moan his name when the pleasure becomes too much, wanting to scream when he suddenly removes his hand from you.

you watch through hooded eyes as he tugs your underwear down with his teeth, his mouth pulled into a smirk until they’re only just past your upper thighs.

because like he’s so eager and can’t wait, like he’s been waiting for this moment since he knew you were gonna be okay with it, he looks down at your bare, soaked pussy with a look of hunger you’ve never seen before.

“let me eat you out,” he says, his words choked out and tone deep and strangled. “please, baby, can i?”

his voice sounds as desperate as you feel and you have to sit up so you can crash your lips on his, the overwhelming need to kiss him coming over you. he meets it back immediately, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and tongues until you pull back and tell me “please.”

his tongue brings you to your first orgasm, your thighs shaking between his head as your hand runs through his black hair desperately.

when his cock springs free, he circles it around your entrance and enters you slowly. sweet, soft spoken words of “it’s okay,” and “you’re doing so good, angel,” that make the whole experience that much better.

you feel full and he feels so good inside you, both your moans ringing through the air and the smell of sex in the room until he’s coming in you. hips bucking and slamming quickly to follow his high before he flicks your clit a few times to bring you to your second orgasm of the night.

you both lay there after, naked and panting, before he’s up and getting a warm, wet rag. there’s a slight sting but it makes you feel incredibly love and vulnerable, watching as he cleans between your legs with a sweet, gentleness and diligence.

“was that okay?” he mumbles in your hair, the faint scent of sweat and perfume on your skin. you only mumble and nod against him but he needs to see your face in this moment.

see that this was just as amazing and fulfilling for you as it was for him.

and when he meets your gaze, his thumb under your chin to meet his eyes, he can see it was. in your glossy eyes and shy smile and pink cheeks that makes him wanna kiss you all over again.

“it was good. really good,” you confess quietly, a small deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he moves a sweaty stand of hair behind your ear.

“yeah? really good?” he teases, eyebrow quirked as he pecks a playful kiss on your cheek. “just how good?”

your blush intensifies as you hide your face in his chest, his laugh mumbled against your head as you feel his lips press against your head.

you two eventually venture back into the living room after a few more kisses and wandering hands, plopping on the couch fully dressed and cuddled into one another when there’s a commotion right outside the apartment door.

the both of you turn to see the seven other boys barreling through in a drunken, sloppy daze, yunho holding mingi and jongho up while hongjoong holds san and wooyoung. seonghwa follows behind with an annoyed expression, meeting yeosang’s gaze that screams you will pay for this.

“what the hell happened?”

“single people drank for free,” hongjoong says, watching as the four drunken idiots either collapse onto the floor or stumble into the kitchen; seonghwa follows quickly behind, because as much disdain as he has, he doesn’t wanna see anyone light themselves on fire.

“so you could only imagine how that went. i don’t even know how many peanut butter and jelly shots san and wooyoung had.”

“that is so disgusting,” yeosang says, your head nodding against his chest because “i’m sorry, but that kind of is. maybe you guys should have some water now.”

“it was good, y/n!” jongho whines, throwing himself down next to you and yeosang. he slumps against the arm of the couch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before his eyes shoot open.

you and yeosang watch as he does so, quickly rising from the couch and sniffing like a police dog in front of a bag of drugs.

“the fuck’s your problem?”

“who lit my cotton candy candle?!” the boy yelps, taking one whiff of the air and being positive he’d know that smell anywhere. “and why does it barely mask the smell of sex?!”

your eyes widen and a deep, red blush overcomes you, a growl leaving yeosang at the same time hongjoong comes over and tugs the boy up by his arm. the smaller boy throws you an apologetic look as he escorts jongho to his room, yeosang’s arm tightening around you as you hide yourself in his chest.

“does it really? i don’t smell anything.”

yeosang bites down on his lip so he doesn’t start laughing, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he shakes his own for your own peace of mind.

“no, baby. it’s fine. he’s just a drunk idiot.”

april - freshmen year

maybe it was because you guys started out so strong.

with great communication and constant assurance that kept you both aware of each other’s feelings.

you knew when he was feeling unsure about your quietness, wondering if it was something he did or if you just weren’t feeling good that day.

he knew when you were feeling overwhelmed, realizing just how different you two were the longer you were together. how he was just so outgoing and charismatic and extroverted and you just... weren’t.

how now that they honeymoon phase was over, stupid little arguments would break out. about what to do on the weekend, about where to eat, about staying in to study versus going to a cafe on campus.

they weren’t even real fights but it was enough to make you see a change in you guys. enough to see that, maybe, one day, this was gonna be a problem and you two would have to overcome it or let it ruin something good.

“we’re having seonghwa’s birthday party at the house tonight,” he tells you during your study session, another argument he won by bribing you with hot chocolate and sugar cookies at a local cafe.

you look up from your work and nod your head, a small smile on your face at the thought of seonghwa and the others.

you’ve gotten a lot closer to all of them over the past few months, even seonghwa who took a little bit longer to come out of his shell. but now that you talked to him you saw how nice and funny he was.

how he comes across as scary and standoffish but, really, is one of the most loyal and observant friends in the room.

he always knows when people are uncomfortable or have had too much of someone or something for the night - you watched him physically separate wooyoung and san when the both had too much alcohol and were getting snippy with each other.

his presence brings a comfort over you that you can’t quite explain. maybe because it seems like he’s kind of like you - quiet and shy and doesn’t like being the center of attention.

which is why you’re shocked in the first place he even agreed to a party.

“oh, he didn’t,” yeosang says, a smirk on his face as he thinks back to the night they all gave him an ultimatum. “but it was the lesser evil that we gave him so he agreed.”

“oh?” you quip, eyebrow raised as you play footsie under the table. “and what was it? making a restaurant sing him happy birthday?”

a wide smirk crosses yeosang face as he nods, a giggle leaving your mouth as you smack his arm lightly.

“you guys are bad.”

“eh, he’s dramatic,” he says, your gaze dropping back down to your work.

he’s said that a few times when you tell him a restaurant or bar is too crowded. when you’re at one of his sister’s house parties and the beer pong table is becoming far too overwhelmingly and crowded for your liking.

it’s always in a joking manner, him whisking you away despite others’ groans of protests, but it still secretly makes you a little sad.

“i actually have to go help them set up in a bit,” he says, your neck snapping up to him again. he sees your eyebrows pull together and reaches across the table, his hand on your arm rubbing you assuringly.

“what’s that face for?”

“nothing, i just...” you let out a sigh as you look down at your lap, feeling silly and stupid and perhaps dramatic. “you’re the one who wanted to come here and now you’re leaving. i could’ve just stayed at my room.”

“yeah but then i wouldn’t have fed you,” he says, reaching over to peck your nose sweetly. “i’ll pick you up at 7:45, baby.”

you can’t even say anything before he’s up and out the door, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as you watch him walk to his car. he turns around and waves, a small smile on your face as you wave back and watch him drive away.

you try not to think about it as you get your work done, faintly aware of the growing population in the cafe and the raising altitude of voices. a group of five take the spot next to you and that successfully gets you ready to sprint out the door.

it’s all good sounds, laughter and squeals and chipper voices, but it’s still too much for you. the sounds and the crowds and the overwhelmingly desire to just be in a peaceful quiet by yourself.

that is until a familiar voice, deep and low and calming, brings you out of your panic before it can even start.

“y/n?”

you look up to see a head of dirty blonde hair, seonghwa clad in dark leather and converse as he makes his way over to you.

“oh. hi, seonghwa,” you say, voice quiet and slightly breathless.

his eyes remain on you for a few seconds too long, gaze carefully roaming your  face before he makes his way over to the table. he sees your books and pens splayed out messily, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes again.

“the semester just started, how do you have all this shit to do already?”

“believe me, i’m wondering the same thing,” you wince, his quiet chuckle causing a smile to light up your face. “what are you doing here?”

“getting a coffee. i slept like shit last night.”

“did wooyoung keep you up?”

“of course he did, the annoying fuck,” he grumbles, his eyes rolling and face pulled in disdain causing you to giggle. “speaking of which, where’s yeosang?”

seonghwa can count on his hands how many times he’s seen you two without each other.

“he left like an hour ago actually,” you say, seeing the time on your phone is 5:00 before your voice turns teasing and you raise your eyebrows playfully.

“he’s getting your party ready.”

seonghwa’s face pulls into on of confusion, your smile dropping as a guilty, sinking feeling builds in your stomach - yeosang didn’t tell you it was a surprise.

“oh no.”

“those annoying fucks, i swear to god,” seonghwa growls lowly, your eyes widening and lips pulling into a frown. “guess i can’t go home tonight.”

“i’m sorry, seonghwa, they didn’t tell me it was a surprise,” you whine quietly, looking up to meet his tight, dark gaze. “they said it was either that or a restaurant sang to you and you went with the party.”

“i told them that one was worse, not that i wanted a party.”

your frown deepens as you sink in your seat, your hands toying nervously on the table. seonghwa’s eyes fall to them and he lets out a sigh, eyes moving to the chair before he plops down in his seat.

a silence hangs between you both, as silent as it could be in a bustling, crowded cafe. you look up to see him watching your hands, quickly pulling them apart and smiling when he meets your gaze.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to spoil it,” you say, “but i don’t think they’re inviting that many people. yeosang usually tells me when parties are gonna be really crowded, so they’ll probably only be like twenty people.”

“yeah, well, that’s eleven too many.”

you press your lips together as you watch him, his neck rolling back and adams apple bobbing.

you can feel the table beside you watch, are sure the whole cafe has been watching since the moment he walked in. you’re not blind to the fact that seonghwa is unbearably attractive, slicked back dirty blonde hair and large stature that draws attention anywhere he goes.

for as long as you’ve known him though, you’ve never seen him bring girls around. or even mention a girl. he always just keeps to himself and his friends - and now you, you suppose, after months of trying and trying.

“i guess this is why they said we’re having a roommate meeting at 8:00.”

you send him a sympathetic smiling, assuring him that it won’t be that bad and you’ll be able to get through it together.

“i sometimes wonder how you’re able to put up with it,” you tell him honestly, thinking back to all the times you’ve watched him and his roommates. “they’re all so crazy and extroverted and.... loud.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, rising from the chair and looking down at you.

“years of practice and selective hearing,” he says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head. you don’t think anything of the way his gaze lingers on you, sending a small smile his way before he speaks again.

“so you’ll be there tonight?”

“yes! yeosang’s picking me up at 7:45 so i should probably get going too,” you say, closing your textbooks and getting your pens together.

“i’ll order my coffee and then walk you back to your dorm.”

“oh no, seonghwa, it’s okay, i-”

but before you can protest any further, he’s turned around and waiting in line to place an order for his coffee. you let out a sigh as you pack up your books, securing it on your shoulder before meeting him at the register.

the cashier is just as mesmerized as she is disappointed when she sees you stand next to him, dropping her flirtier smile for a polite one.

“your order will be right out sir.”

he nods his head as you guys go to the waiting area, standing side by side in silence before you turn to look with a smirk on your face.

“sir?”

“you can walk home in the dark, how ‘bout that?”

a giggle leaves your mouth as you shrug, insisting you didn’t even ask him to walk you home in the first place. he only rolls his eyes before his name is called, grabbing the hot coffee as you follow behind in amusement.

the walk to your dorm is only a few minutes, you and seonghwa walking in a comfortable silence as you walk through the campus. snow from last week’s storm rests on the trees in a picturesque manner, a slight chill in the air that causes you to shiver.

“are you gonna act surprised?”

seonghwa looks over at you as you walk, his arm clumsily bumping into yours as you walk through the slushy, dirty snow - it goes seemingly unnoticed by both of you, arms accidentally grazing for a few seconds before disconnecting as you walk.

he just shrugs and remains quiet, slipping back into the dismissive and intimidating person he once seemed to be. you don’t even think he realizes he comes off like that, just has this look that screams do not look or talk to me.

you stop in front of your dorm a few moments later, turning around tot meet seonghwa who looms over you. he wears a blank, unreadable expression until you smile up at him, thanking him again for walking you and that you’ll see him in a few hours.

“no problem, couldn’t let yeosang’s girl walk alone,” he says, gaze lingering on you for the third time. you've noticed him do this to everyone though, watch and observe to a point where you think he knows things people don’t know about themselves.

“and i’ll act surprised, tonight. won’t let it slip that you ruined my birthday.”

“yeosang didn’t tell me that it was a sur- wait. is today your real birthday?”

his eyebrow quirks up sarcastically, a smile pulling at his lips as he looks at you.

"why would they throw me a birthday party if it wasn’t my birthday?”

an embarrassed flush crosses your cheeks as an awkward giggle bubbles out of your mouth.

“i just thought because it was the weekend or something,” you stutter out, “happy birthday, seonghwa.”

“thanks, y/n,” he smiles, eyes softening every so slightly before he nods his head toward the building. “go in. it’s cold. i’ll see you later.”

“bye,” you say, sending a small wave his way before turning around and disappearing into your dorm building.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think seonghwa was an award winning actor.  

because when the party of 30 (just ten over what you predicted) screamed “happy birthday seonghwa!” in the pitch darkness, a miscalculation mingi and the light switch, he seemed genuinely surprised.

or, at least, as surprised as his face could express when he turned on the lights.

his eyes were wide and his eyebrow was quirked, a look of disdain throw at his friends who were huddled in the front and clapping excitedly.

“happy birthday hwa!”

“we got you, bitch!”

“wear this happy birthday hat!”

he whacked the red hat right out of jongho’s head, growling at him to not push it in a way that makes you hold back a laugh. he catches your eye and smiles at you, mouthing “good enough?” that has you nodding happily.

the house party picks up almost immediately after seonghwa’s arrival, music blaring and drinking games starting and a loud, pleasant chatter that your boyfriend thrives off of.

guides you around by the small of your back and introduces you to people you’re sure you’ve met before but just don’t recognize you; regardless, you’re polite.

smile at people and say hello before falling into the silence of watching yeosang and stranger after stranger talk. even someone he doesn’t know, like the friend of a friend or significant other of a friend, he talks to like he’s known them forever.

he just connects with people so easily and a part of you is truly envious of it.

“i just don’t get how you do it,” you whine to him on the couch, the same alcoholic beverage in hand (you think yeosang said it’s a rum and coke) that you humored him with when the party started.

“i just talk, baby, what do you mean?” he laughs out, you sitting on his lap as he takes a swig of his beer.

“i know but so easily,” you mumble. “and you don’t see awkward or scared or anything. what if you guys lapse into a silence? or don’t know what to talk about?”

“silence isn’t bad, though, we sit in silence sometimes. and there are always things to talk about.”

like the person walking around with jongho’s array of candles, making the drunk boy run after him and fight off people trying to sniff them.

or the incredibly competitive and entertaining game of flip cup, one side far superior than the other and completely demolishing them.

or like how the birthday boy, the reason why eveyone’s gathered here today and having fun, hasn’t gotten his ass off the couch since he walked through the door.

“i didn’t ask for these people to be here,” seonghwa growls when he hears yeosang talking shit, throwing a dirty look his way as he tosses a pillow at him. “you idiots did that all on your own.”

“and aren’t you happy we did? now you have a bunch of gifts.”

the blank stare seonghwa has shows he could not give less of a fuck about the pile of cards in his room right now, politely thanking the guests who were nice enough to actually bring them and not just their drunken presence.

“we should’ve taken your grouchy ass to a restaurant so they could’ve-”

“yeosang, bro! please come here! we need you!”

the voice belonged to a guy from your class named yeonjun. he had pink hair and was very similiar to your boyfriend, charismatic and friendly in such a gravitating, almost unnatural way.

he also apparently sucked at flip cup.

“it’s not my fault you suck,” he yells from over the couch, loud groans of protest and upset coming from the table.

“c’mon yeosang! please!”

“we need you!”

“leave your hot girlfriend and get over here now!”

yeosang looks to you to see a flustered blush on your cheeks, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he pecks one the pink skin.

“can i go, baby?” he mumbles quietly, squeezing your waist every so slightly. “they’re really desperate and need me.”

your lips purse together as you look over your boyfriend, the slight pout and look in his eye causing you to sigh. he knows then that he won, again, the way he usually does these days, and lifts you off his lap.

he presses another kiss to your head before he’s off, loud, happy shouts of excitement causing you to crane your neck back. he does the weird boy hand shake-hug before the game starts up, turning back to see seonghwa sitting across from you on the other couch.

“having fun birthday boy?”

“no,” he answers immediately, dryly, in a way that brings a big smile to your face. “how ‘bout you?”

“it’s okay,” you shrug, curling your legs under you as he rest on the couch more comfortably. “i hope the cake is good.”

“i don’t like cake.”

he’s never seen someone’s eyes widen as much as yours do in that very moment, a small, short chuckle leaving his mouth at your expression.

“what?”

“how do you not like cake?” you squeal.

if there’s one thing you could eat in this world, dietary and nutritional values aside, it would be chocolate cake.

“i just don’t like it, it’s too like sweet and sugary. and if it’s chocolate, that’s even worse.”

the pillow he threw at yeosang flies through the air and hits him back in the face, only your smug, disturbed expression staring back at his shocked one. it would usually make you laugh, the look on his face, but you’re truly just so disturbed - how is there not gonna be cake at a birthday party?

“how could you not like chocolate cake of all the cakes!” you squeal

“did you just throw a pillow at me on my birthday?”

“i mean like carrot cake or fruit cake i get. those are kind of gross and only certain people like them. but chocolate cake? it’s loved by almost every-”

like a game of monkey in the middle, with no monkey, the battered throw pillow flies through the air again and just misses your face; whether he did that on purpose or accidentally is no one’s business.

you and seonghwa stare at one another, eyes narrowed and faces slightly red, completely unaware to the party around you until you’re the one who cracks. put your hand to your mouth and start laughing hysterically.

not a cute giggle or breathy chuckle but a big, hearty, real laugh.

he’s never heard you like this before, probably because he’s only spent a little bit of time with you, but it makes him smile even more. the sound of your laugh and innocent happiness is contagious, his deeply mumbled “stop,” so obviously fake due to the the smile tugging at his lips.

you eventually moved onto the couch beside him, hitting him closer with the pillow before plopping down next to him. talking to him and being next to him made you forget about the party.

not because he was handsome or because you liked him - you loved yeosang and were dating him.

you just enjoyed being able to relate to someone. loved sitting there with someone who didn’t just wanna drink or get high or dance. who was able to be there in silence or talk about nonsense while being surrounded by the chaotic energy of a party.

so much so that you don’t even realize your own boyfriend left you for half the night. not once coming over to check on you or see if you were dong okay until it was time for the cake seonghwa wasn’t even gonna eat.

“i’m sorry, baby, i got caught up with the game,” he mumbled, his arms wound tightly around your waist. you shake your head against his chest, assuring him that it’s okay as he tickles your neck with soft pecks from his lips.

the night ended with yeosang getting so drunk, you had to put him to bed. it wasn’t something you minded, you’ve done this a few times before, but for whatever reason tonight it made something build in the pit of your stomach.

like you already knew tonight something in the future was gonna change because of parties, yeosang’s extroverted ways and seonghwa’s lingering eyes that everyone but you three notice.  

july:

you end the semester with all a’s, an excuse to not return home for the summer and a strained relationship.

it seemed like it happened slowly and then all at once.

there was the time at seonghwa’s party where you thought nothing of it. he was occupied and, luckily, so were you. he left you but went back smiling and affectionate, pressing kisses to your skin and mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

but then it started happening more.

at his sister’s parties where he knew you were uncomfortable.

at frat parties where you were even more uncomfortable.

even at his own house, when the boys had a few people over and they were playing video games while getting high.

it was always seonghwa who kept you company, the two of you in the same room as them but seemingly on a different planet. sitting beside one another observing the party and sharing snide, sneaky comments about others.

how it seemed as if there was some turmoil between mingi and yunho, the way they were ignoring each other and sharing looks back and forth when the other wasn’t looking.

how wooyoung and hongjoong’s frat boys friends didn’t seem to get along in the slightest, the boys always sneering at him when he laughed too loud or teased them too much.

how yeosang was so consumed by the limelight, talking and laughing and making jokes, that he seemed to have forgotten you exist.

“i don’t think he realizes he does it, y/n,” seonghwa assured you one night, the end of the semester coming to a close and allowing you all to relax.

it’d been a hard and stressful first year but there’d also been a lot of fun. a lot of making new relationships that you know will last a lifetime and a lot of things you learned about yourself through all of these experiences.

it’d also been one of the happiest times of your life thanks to yeosang, the boy you fell for so hard and so fast despite all your fears and reservations.

you’re still happy now, even with the bumps. because you think, you hope, that you guys could get through them.

“he’s always been like that. very social and in the middle of a group. people are always drawn to him.”

seonghwa’s not surprised that you were drawn to him. yeosang’s always had something about him that people flock to, men and women alike; but you were the first he’s truly fell for.

reciprocated feelings for and truly cared about their well being and them as a person.

“i don’t think he’s trying to hurt you. that’s just how he is.”

“he’s not hurting me.”

because through all of this, through him ignoring you and neglecting him and seemingly blowing off your feelings because they’re silly and unrelatable to him, you’re trying to convince yourself he’s not.

that you really are just being silly and dramatic about all of this.

that even though you go these outings for him, despite detesting them more than anything, and he keeps leaving you alone, you’re not hurt by it; but seonghwa can see through it.

and whether it’s because you guys are so alike or because he’s so annoyingly observant, you’re not sure. you just know that he looks at you with a soft, sympathetic disbelief that causes the ever growing lump in your throat to grow bigger.

“y/n...”

“he’s really not, seonghwa,” you mumble, words hushly spoken as you watch yeosang carefully; you know if he sees you looking upset, he’s gonna come over.

he’ll stop whatever he’s doing or whatever conversation he’s having and it’s because of that you can’t be upset. because he still loves you and cares for you.

you just have to stop being so dramatic and silly.

when you say that to seonghwa, the very words that come from your boyfriend’s mouth, you watch his face change completely. become harder and harsher as he looks to yeosang, jaw ticking as he pops his neck to the side.

“whatever you say, y/n,” he mumbles. “i just don’t want you guys having problems over this. he loves you, y/n.”

he asked you to stay with him for the summer a few days before classes ended, unsure if you’d be able to but wanting to ask because “my parents are gonna be away for the summer,” he said to you suddenly, both of you laying naked in your dorm.

you craned your neck up to look at him, sweat glistening on his face and chest making him handsome even then.  

“are you scared to be in the house all alone?”

he rolls his eyes playfully, bopping you on the nose lightly before pulling you on top of him. the blankets lay around you messily, your core under his flaccid dick that just ripped several orgasms through you.

“very. i’m gonna be very scared and need you with me. i truthfully might not even survive,” he drones on, resting his hands on your hips as you roll your eyes at him.

you ponder over it as you sit on top of him, biting down on your lip in a way that causes him to tighten his hold and roll your hips over him just a little bit. you ignore him and his horny ways the way you’ve learned to, thinking it all over before realizing it might be good for you guys.

you don’t know if he’s noticed the slight disconnect, it could just be you living in your head all the time, but you think spending time together would be good. would remind you of how you felt with him when you first started dating and he always made sure you were his number one priority.

you want some of that again. you want him to notice when you’re upset or uncomfortable and go out of his way to help you in a crowd, even if it’s just for a moment.

you want to feel like if it came down to you, his friends and the parties or you, that he’d pick you each and every time.

the first few weeks of summer felt as if you were getting that.

you spent a lot of your time longing around his house. playing in his pool and watching movies outside and having sex on nearly every surface, you were surprised to be able to walk.

but all of that quickly stopped when everyone else was home from college.

when his hometown became just one big reunion, people from his high school and neighboring colleges getting together the one way college kids knew - house parties with kegs and loud music.

it seemed as if every few days, you guys were going out.

you and yeosang and all of his friends meeting up with different groups and different houses and having the time of your lives late into the summer nights.

the stuffy houses and sleazy bars definitely weren’t your scene but yeosang, per usual, thrived.

he more often than not would leave you after the first hour, making sure you were with seonghwa or hongjoong or yunho before going off to drink or mingle with his friends.

he’d check on you periodically but it almost seemed as if he felt obligated to.

pressing a kiss to your cheek or holding you by the waist to ask if you needed another drink or wanted to play beer pong; but it was always the same answer every time.

a polite no with a fake smile on your lips that he left with a parting kiss before disappearing back into the crowd.

it was getting old and you knew he was starting to feel the disconnect too, the more hazy summer days that passed, but you both ignored it. because the times at his house were nice, you almost felt normal.

kissing and cuddling and talking as you ate.

but you knew that would all fade away eventually.

when there more were people who weren’t just you or his friends and craved something more exciting than just staying in and hanging out.

talk of a beach bonfire weekend had, admittedly, peaked your interest.

it was different than the stuffy houses or sleazy bars you’ve gotten used to over these past few weeks of summer.

now, you got to go to the beach and rent a nice house right by the ocean. be with yeosang and his friends and the people you got to know in a much more tropical and romantic setting.

you drove up with yeosang, yunho and mingi in the latter boy’s jeep, you and yeosang in the back as wind whipped through your hair. you giggle anytime your hair smacks him in the face, eventually being pulled into his chest to stop the assault from happening on his face.

his heartbeat is calming under your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as him and the two boys in front talk over the plans for the weekend.

you’re blissfully unaware of it as you remain close to his body, warm and sticky in the humid air but not caring.

because even despite your problems and disconnect, you still want him near you. you still find comfort in him and you still want to feel loved by him.

“how does that sound?” you hear yeosang mumble in your ear, his breath tickling your skin causing you to hum against him.

“how does what sound?”

“did you fall asleep?” he asks teasingly, nudging you playfully until your faces are a few inches from each other. “i asked if you wanna go on a date tonight when we get there.”

a happy smile crosses your face as you nod eagerly, one breaking out on his too before he places a soft kiss on your lips.

you’re buzzing with a silent excitement the rest of the ride, your hand is his as you play with his fingers and he smiles at you ever so often. holding hands always felt right between you two, like they were made to fit perfectly and acted as a way to ground you both.

your hands stay intertwined when you get to the house, a giant 8-bedroom mansion on the beach that cost you half of your savings - but the view is making it seem worth it.

the waves crashing just a few feet from the back door and causing everyone to storm out of their cars to fight for the best room.

“i want the balcony, please for the love of god! i will do all the dishes during this trip if you guys let me have it.”

“that’s such bullshit,” hongjoong complains, calling wooyoung out on a deal he knows he definitely won’t abide by; but after much nearly 30 minutes of whining and a written contract stuck to the fridge, it was decided.

wooyoung gets the room with the balcony in exchange for dishes duty, a fair exchange you think given the view.

your and yeosang’s room is the one next to wooyoung, an en-suite and beautiful view of the ocean outside the floor to ceiling windows. your standing there watching the waves crash, bags at your feet and content smile on your face when yeosang wraps his arms around you from behind.

you giggle when he presses his lips to your neck, turning in his hold to immediately meet his for a kiss. it feels like you miss him even though you see him everyday. even though you’ve fallen asleep and woken up next to him for over a month.

“what do you wanna eat tonight?” he mumbles against your lips, pulling back to look at you with a smile on his face and a playful twinge in his eyes. you cock your head to the side as you look up him, shrugging your shoulders because it really doesn’t matter.

you’re just excited for your date.

“i don’t care, i’ll have anything.”

“we’ll find a place then,” he says, pulling you closer to him in a way you already know means something. “you wanna shower before we go?”

“why? do i smell?” you tease, a smirk on his face as he pulls you toward the bathroom wordlessly.

and lucky for both of you, there was a very convenient bench in the shower that had you in there until the mirror was foggy and the water ran cold.

“can you bring us back food?” mingi whined, yeosang rolling his eyes as he caught the boy’s car keys.

“as long as you eat in on plates so wooyoung has to wash the dishes.”

“hey!”

“deal.”

a smile spreads across your face as you wave goodbye to all the boys, wearing a pretty new dress you’ve been wanting to wear for weeks. yeosang takes your hand and interlaces your fingers together, shouts of “bye” and “have fun lovebirds,” echoing through the house.

the restaurant is right on the beach with outdoor seating, twinkle lights lining the space with the quiet chatter of people and gentle crash of waves. you and yeosang are play footsie under the table as you look over the menu, shy smiles and coy narrowed eyes beuing thrown at each other.

it’s been a while since things have felt this natural and easy between you two but you think you both needed it. the casual conversation, the airy chuckles and giggles, the warm feeling in the middle of your chest when you catch him looking at you lovingly.

“you look beautiful, baby. are you excited for this weekend?”

a faint blush covers your cheeks as you look up at him, twirling the spaghetti on your fork as you nod your head.

“yeah. we’re going to the beach tomorrow, right?”

“yeah,” he says, popping a piece of steak into his mouth. “and then we’re gonna meet changbin and them at a bar. his friend’s parents own it so we’ll be able to get in.”

“oh... okay,” you hum after a few seconds, quietly picking at our food and feeling yeosang’s eyes on you.

“what?”

you look up and meet his gaze, the sweet, softness gone and replaced with something you’re not quite able to make out. you feel nerves in the pit of your stomach, taking a deep breath before you plaster a smile on your face.

“nothing. that’ll be fun.”

“you think?” he asks, eyebrow quirked and a happy smile on his face; he was hoping you liked going out and meeting his friends more. he loves showing you off and having you by his side but in the beginning, it always seemed like you didn’t wanna be there.

he’s happy you’re coming around to it now, wanting his girlfriend by his side and having fun with him too.

“yeah,” you lie through your teeth, the smile on your face a complete contrast to your feelings inside.

when did he stop knowing when your smile was fake? or thinking that you actually wanted to go out? couldn’t he see all the time you were pushing yourself to be there for him, just for him to leave you alone?

“i think we’ll have fun,” you lie again, having a terrible feeling that this weekend getaway might be the thing that breaks you and yeosang completely.

because your relationship is already fragile and neither of you are acknowledging it. you just keep kissing and giggling and playing footsie under the table, looking like the perfect couple you truly once were in the beginning.

friday morning it seemed as if maybe things were gonna be okay.

you woke up to yeosang kissing your face, forehead to cheek to cheek to nose until he peppered them down your neck and a tired whine left you. he smiled against your skin, his lowly mumbled ,”good morning, baby,” making your stomach flutter first thing.

the moment was quickly over, open mouthed kisses and his tongue slipping past yours, when wooyoung and mingi bursted through the door, dramatic yelps leaving them as they ran out covering each other’s eyes.

“i cannot believe you kiss him in the morning,” wooyoung said an hour later, all eight of you walking down to the beach.

the cooler was packed and ready, fully prepared for a day in the sun and pregaming for the bar later tonight.

“why?” you ask, a smile pulling at your lips at the look of disgust on his face.

“multiple reasons but his breath being the first! isn’t it disgusting? there’s no way he doesn’t wake up with rank breath, y/n, i just don’t believe it.”

an arm wraps around your waist from behind, your boyfriend’s hand craning your face back so he can peck another long, lingering kiss on your mouth; wooyoung’s gags in the back cause you to smile against him.

“you better be careful talking about rank breath,” yeosang says when he pulls away, eyes right on wooyoung who’s wearing a look of shock and hurt.

“i don’t have bad breath.”

“i can smell you right now. did you even bring a toothbrush?”

“he actually didn’t,” jongho quips, wooyoung’s head snapping toward his as you and yeosang suppress your laughter - one of you better than the other.

“it’s all he kept talking about in the car. sick fuck even asked to use to mine but that is just too-”

“oh wow, look at the waves! c’mon, y/n, you said you wanted to play in them!”

wooyoung grabs your hand before you’re able to say anything, giggling as he drags you down the hot sand. you throw down your bag and look back at yeosang with a smile, his hand waving you off as he picks up your belongings.

mingi and san join you both a few minutes later, the water making your feet numb in the wet sand.

you don’t know how long it takes all four of you to fully immerse yourself in the water - at least thirty minutes if you had to guess. but once you got in, you guys didn’t wanna get out.

the waves were harsh and crashed down on you viscously but that was part of the fun. diving into the water and letting the salt water soak up into your skin and hair. it was even better that there was no gross seaweed, the four of you attempting to play toothpaste despite the major difficulty.

but with how much time past, pruny fingers and soaked hair, you didn’t expect the others to already be shit-faced. it was barely noon and you could tell immediately that yeosang, hongjoong and jongho were well on there way to getting obliterated tonight.

you have sinking suspicions it’s because changbin and his friends are also here; and when their two friend groups are together, nothing could comes of it.

they’re all fun and sweet and care for one another but they also build off of each other - enable each other’s young, college drinking habits and rowdy behavior.

“b-baby, c’mere,” yeosang slurs when he sees you, wrapping you up in a towel and pulling you on his lap.

you land on his lap with a plop, smiling and saying hello to the others. you can smell the alcohol on yeosang’s breath but he’s always in good spirits. always laughing and smiling and making jokes that, usually, his drinking isn’t a problem.

it’s not something you particularly enjoy or can relate to but he’s never been a  mean drunk.

not until today.

“you look really good today, you know that?” he mumbles lowly in your ear, the new, red bikini you brought clinging to your body in all the right ways. you were slightly embarrassed to wear it today but decided to go for it because you thought you looked nice in it and spent $70 on it.

you looked up at him with an embarrassed flush on your cheeks, elbowing him lightly as he wraps his arms around your waist. his fingers toy with the edge of your bikini under the towel, your eyes widening when you feel what he’s trying to do.

“yeosang,” you whisper harshly, keeping your voice low but firm as you smack his hand over the towel.

“what,” he whines lowly, eyes roaming the area to see everyone either going to the water or chatting amongst themselves. “you’re covered, baby. i wouldn’t let anyone see what’s mine.”

“are you crazy,” you whisper as you peek your face up at him. “we’re already drinking underage on the beach yeosang. you can’t finger me in public either.”

“who said i was gonna finger you?” he mumbles, a smirk on his face and teasing in his voice; but you don’t find this funny. you don’t find him being this drunk and touchy at noon is funny. “you’re getting ahead of yourself now, baby.”

“why are you getting this drunk at noon, yeosang? we’re going out tonight too, unfortunately.”

“unfortunately?” he asks, craning his neck down to look at you. “i thought you were excited.”

“i was so excited for the beach,” you tell him quietly. “i thought you would come in the ocean with us.”

because you wanted to spend that time with him. have the jeuvnile fun you used to have when you’d go on drives to the beach at night and freeze your asses off on the sand.

“you looked like you were having enough fun with wooyoung and san,” he mumbles, something darker and sarcastic in his voice that makes you turn in his lap and look at him.

his eyes are glassy and teasing but not in the light hearted way. they look almost vengeful, like he’s jealous or feeling left out the same way you’ve been; but you’re always sitting there, at parties or at bars or in your room, waiting for him.

how doesn’t he see that?”

“that’s because you’ve been with everyone else. you’re always with everyone else and you leave me behind.”

“what are you even talking about?” he sneers, keeping his voice low but full of bite. “you come everywhere with me like my damn shadow, y/n. how do i leave you behind? i couldn’t if i tried.”

his words make you physically recoil, his lap now longer feeling comfortable and inviting but cold. the hurt is evident on your face and in your heart and he’s just looking at you like he’s ready to have a full on argument, his eyebrow raised and glossy eyes wide.

like he’s waiting for you to say something just so he can respond and hurt you.

there’s a long, lingering silence between you two, the laughter of others surrounding you despite the way tears are burning your eyes. a screech of your name pulls you away, looking at san and mingi where the shorter boy is holding his foot above the sand.

“can you come back with us? i cut my foot.”

some silly part of you expects yeosang to tell them to leave you alone. that you spent your time with them and now it’s his turn to be with you. but he doesn’t say a word, just bounces his knee as if to tell you to get off and it feels as if your heart drops into your stomach.

you swallow the growing lump in your throat, throwing the towel back on yeosang and rising toyour feet to help san.

“sure,” you tell the boy quietly, not looking back at yeosang once as you make your way up to the house.

you clean san’s foot on the counter in the kitchen, getting off all the dirt and dust with an alcohol pad as he whines in pain.

“it’s not that bad,” you mumble, mingi nodding in agreement as san narrows his eyes at both of you.

you’re strangely quiet, more quiet than usual, and mingi can’t help but notice the sad look on your face; you’d been so happy in the water and when you first got to the beach.

“did you and yeosang fight?”

you look up at mingi to see his eyes on you, soft and sweet and looking over you gently. it makes the weepy, emotional part in you wanna cry but you refuse, letting the dramatic tears burn your eyes at you shake your head.

“are you sure? you look sad.”

“no, i’m okay, i’m just tired,” you say, sending a small smile his way that is obviously fake. “the water and sun always tire me out.”

san and mingi accept your answer as you finish covering san’s food, slapping a band-aid on his heel and smiling (the smallest hint of a real smile) as he kisses your cheek in thanks.

you watch outside the window as yeosang sits in his chair, all the boys in a circle with their cups full of beer and throwing their heads back in laughter. you can hear their banter and harsh words through the open glass, not a single part of you wanting to go back out there.

you’d much rather sit in the bath or take a nap, rid yourself of the image of yeosang’s harsh words and annoyed eyes.  

“y/n?” san says, your eyes snapping to his concerned face - how long had he been calling you?

“c’mon, we’re going back,” he says, extending his arm down to you. “we used to play this olympic game when we were kids and we wanna try again.”

a smile pulls at your lips at his statement, picturing all of them as crazy kids running up and down the beach playfully. but now you don’t wanna go back out there, especially since you have to go out later with them.

“i kind of wanna take a nap before we go out tonight,” you tell the boys, looks of horror crossing their faces.

“what? we’re not going out till 7. it’s only 1:30, y/n.”

“i know but i’m gonna take a bath, too. the tub is really big.”

the dejected frowns on mingi and san almost make you crack but they eventually let it go, insisting that if you can’t fall asleep to come back out so you can all go back in the ocean.

you watch them walk back to the group from the door, eyes lingering over yeosang who’s smiling and laughing with his big group of friends. he always looks most comfortable like that, in a big group of people where everyone looks to him and laughs, giving him the attention he used to look for from you.

but things change apparently. you don’t know how or when or why neither of you have acknowledged it but it’s obvious that somewhere along the line, things had changed.

“where’s y/n?” seonghwa’s voice asked, pulling yeosang from his discussion as he sees mingi and san walking back to the group.

“she said she’s tired,” san answers with a frown, a scoff leaving yeosang that has the dirty blonde side eyeing him. “she might come back down after she takes a nap.”

“she won’t,” yeosang says, taking a sip from his beer before throwing the glass bottle into the garbage bag; san and mingi side eye each other, catching the dark look that seonghwa throws the boy’s way.

“can someone get me another one?”

you woke to the sound of yeosang shuffling around in his bag, eyes fluttering open to see a towel wrapped around his waist. your eyes roamed over is body, a flat, toned stomach and muscular arms that now had a red su burn on them.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

he jumped slightly despite your quiet tone, meeting your tired gaze and bedridden hair as he nods his head. he places a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on the bed, undressing in front of you as you keep your gaze on him.

“did you sleep well?”

you can’t read his expression or tone at all right now and it unsettles you greatly; so you only nod, sitting up and stretching your arms up and over your head.

“are you coming out with us?”

your eyes narrow and that same sad feling plummets in your stomach again. how it feels like your heart’s falling down further and further.

“um... why wouldn’t i?”

“because it doesn’t seem like you want to.”

“then should i just sit here by myself?”

silence fills the room as you both just stare at each other blankly, the hurt behind your eyes and the annoyance behind his far too palpable. you wonder if he’s gonna say anything in response or just leave the out the bedroom door, quirking an eyebrow up in the quietness.

“we’re leaving in 30,” is all he says, voice still short and eyes still tight as he turns around and leaves. mingi and san sneak through the door, most definitely eavesdropping, as they run over and plop on your bed.

“you didn’t come back.”

“you guys definitely fought.”

you let out a sigh as you look to mingi, an apologetic smile on his face as he pats your shoulder reassuringly. his hand moves to your hair, lacing his fingers through it before a knot stops him.

“i was sleeping, okay,” you grumble, a deep laugh leaving him as he pulls you up and off the bed.

“we’re leaving soon so get ready. we’re just gonna dance and have fun. i promise.”

and so similiar to the beach outing, the first few hours were fun.

the music was good, it wasn’t too crowded and you even didn’t mind the taste of your strawberry daiquiri. you danced with san, mingi and wooyoung until your feet were killing and your throat felt parched.

you went up to the bar for a water, needing to yell your order over the voices of people as you realize just how crowded it got. your eyes scan the bar for yeosang, seeing him in the corner where the big group resides.

your eyes meet form across the room, a small smile on your face as you wave to him.

you know he sees you, you know you two definitely make eye contact and that he could tell it was you, but he doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest. only hyunjin and jisung do, yelping your name from across the bar and ushering you over eagerly.

you hesitantly make your way over, a polite smile on your face. there’s a few people you don’t recognize but there’s a lot of people you do, trying to keep that in mind as you approach the table closer and say hi to everyone.

“y/n! where have you been?”

“dancing with san and mingi,” you tell them. “wooyoung, too, but we kept losing him.”

“he’s too friendly for his own good,” jisung says, his eyes roaming you and yeosang before back to you. “where are they now?”

“not sure, maybe outside.”

“cool. stay with us for a bit.”

you’re hesitant but find yourself nodding anyway, your arm grazing yeosang who’s standing next to you. you look to him and he’s talking to a few guys across the table, hyunjin calling your name twice before you notice.

the whole time you’re talking to them, you can’t help but notice how yeosang seems to be avoiding you. giving you the cold shoulder like you’re a random stranger in a bar and not his girlfriend.

and the longer it goes on, the worse you feel. trying to carry on the conversation but becoming more and more aware of yeosang’s distance; and you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

“yo, yeosang,” jisung says, the black-haired boy snapping his head toward the boy. he nods his head toward you, your neck craning toward yeosang and face dropping when the boy begins to speak again.

“is there any reason you’re ignoring your girlfriend?” he asks, humor in his tone.

“what do you mean?” the boy asks, his eyes moving to yours, the same unreadable expression in them.

“you haven’t looked at her once. are you guys even still dating?”

“surprisingly,” the drunken man quips sarcastically.

your face drops and it’s like he knows it, looking at you with a roll of his eyes.

“i was kidding, y/n,” he huffs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. he reeks of alcohol and cologne, keeping you under his arm before continuing his conversation.

the entire time, it’s like you’re not even there. he doesn’t once acknowledge you or try to include you in the conversation. just keeps you there as if your his shadow, something he’s not even aware ad that he doesn’t pay any mind to.

you thought you’ve been dramatic over these past few months. maybe being too sensitive or too emotional or maybe even asking too much from him. but it’s like he doesn’t even want you here.

he hasn’t looked your way once and neither of you acknowledged the way you snapped at each other before. your communication has gone down the toilet, all of your feelings brewing while his seem to be nonexistent.

you move out from under his arm, no one, not even him, noticing when you mumble that you’re going to the bathroom.

tears burn your eyes the entire time, feeling stupid and left out and annoying, like you have no place here and just have to be attached to someone who doesn’t want you or yeosang’s friends.

you grip the sink and take a few calming breaths, looking up at the mirror when you hear the door open.

a drunken girl comes in and smiles upon seeing you, her face immediately dropping before she makes her way over to you.

“oh no, what’s wrong?” she asks with a frown on her face, her eyes roaming yours carefully as her hands grip your arms comfortingly. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

you almost laugh at the fact that this random stranger is the one noticing that you’re upset when you were just beside your boyfriend. you only shake your head and promise her that you’re okay, a pathetic excuse of a smile plastered on your face.

but the same way a person breaks down when someone asks if they’re okay, you do when you try to assure her that you are. that you and your boyfriend are in a great place and you feel completely happy here with him.

“just... stupid stuff with my boyfriend,” you eventually mutter out, a small tear escaping your eye that causes her frown to deepen. “i feel silly and dramatic but i don’t know.. i feel like he’s been ignoring me. we’ve been so weird these past few months and it doesn’t seem like he even loves me anymore.”

“leave his ass, are you crazy,” she asks without hesitation, wiping at your tears with a sympathetic smile on her face. “you’re beautiful and he’s not worth crying over. no boy is. because that what he is. a boy. a stupid boy, in fact.”

a wet, strangled giggle leaves your mouth despite the tears streaming down your face, watching as she takes a paper towel and dabs at your face.

“you’re gonna mess up your makeup so no more crying!” she says happily, bouncing up and down with her legs crossed. “leave his ass and have fun, sweet girl! i’m about to pee my pants now.”

another giggle leaves your mouth as you thank her sweetly, wiping at your face and smiling when she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. you take a deep breath, trying to take her words to heart but far too aware of the upset in your stomach.

how leaving him seems like the most painful thing ever. how you don’t even wanna do that because you guys haven’t talked about anything yet. all these problems could be in your own head for all you know, you two haven’t had any sort of discussion.

but it doesn’t help that he doesn’t even seem receptive.

he has been ignoring you and making you feel left out. he brings you along just to leave you when he knows you’re only coming for him; even on the nights you guys stay in, it’s obvious he wants to be out partying.

why can’t it be more fair? are you asking for too much or is he just being inconsiderate?

you walk out of the bathroom to se the corner of bar empty, only jisung and hyujin lingering. the taller boy meets your gaze and the two make their way over, letting you know that they went to the bar outside.

“oh... okay, thanks for letting me know,” you thank softly, a small smile lighting up your face.

they both wear their own sympathetic smile, hyunjin shaking his head at jisung when they make eye contact. there’s a few moments of an awkward silence, you looking between them both before jisung opens his mouth to speak again.

“yeosang was saying some fucked up shit, y/n. i just wanted you to know.”

“han...”

“no, hyunjin, they’ve been together for a long time and he knows her best. that wasn’t cool.”

your stomach plummets at the words leaving the boy, the tears you just got rid of burning the back of your eyes again.

“what... what did he say?”

“it wasn’t anything that bad, we were just shocked. you guys usually seemed so happy and in love and it was just-”

“he said it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you guys broke up. and that if you wanted to, he wouldn’t be too opposed.”

the look on your face must give it all away, tears filling your eyes as you feel yourself ready to bolt. you will not be the girl who cries publicly in a bar, looking like a hot, red-faced mess because your boyfriend decided to be an asshole.

“he’s shit faced, y/n,” hyunjin says immediately, his stomach turning at your tears; he hates when people cry, especially girls. “he only said it because he thinks that’s where you guys are headed. said you guys have felt very disconnected since school ended.”

and while it helps to hear that you haven’t been the only one feeling that way, it still hurts you.

because it doesn’t seem like he wants to fight for you and he hasn’t said anything to you. he’s just ignoring you, making you feel worse and worse with the occasional kiss or whispered sweet nothing.

you think the worst part is that, eve if you guys did break up, he wouldn’t be sad about it. he’d just move on without any qualms and think of you as the girl he dated during his freshmen year of college.

but he was much more to you than that.

he was your first love. the first boy you allowed in and let yourself trust. gave yourself to in the most intimiate way and found solace in him despite your differences.

those differences seem to be your downfall right now - with one similarity that, apparently, both of you suck at communication.

you don’t even realize you’re turning around and leaving the bar until you hear your name being called behind you, walking out in the warm night air and heading toward the beach.

you just keep walking and walking and walking, until there’s nothing but silence and the waves crashing around you.

he knows he shouldn’t care this much.

he knows that it’s not his place and that the boy next to him should be the one worrying and concerned about where you are.

but yeosang doesn’t seem to care at all, switching from beers to shots in a decision seonghwa made hours ago to stay away from.

he can’t stop his eyes from moving to the door ever so often, waiting for your hair or smiling face to walk through and flood him with some relief; but when he sees mingi, san, and wooyoung come in without you, he’s not sure he can hold off any longer.

“yeosang,” seonghwa says, voice deep with his usual bite. “where’s y/n?”

“i don’t know,” he slurs out, not even bothering to look around or observe the crowd. “probably with mingi or san.”

“no, they’re out here, too.”

“i don’t know hwa, why do you care?” he growls in annoyance, downing another shot to dull out the sound your name and all the concerns he has. coming to terms with the fact that you guys are changing and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“because she’s missing, yeosang. no one has seen her or is with her.”

he’s getting more and more irritated at his friends attitude, the way it seems like he couldn’t give less of a shit about where his girlfriend is. especially when he knows you get uncomfortable in this setting.

“i’m her boyfriend, hwa, and i know she’s fine. so fucking drop it. she’s around here somewhere.”

but that answer doesn’t quell the worry in seonghwa, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes at the endless horror stories plaguing his mind. they’re underage at a crowded bar with sleazy drunks and cops lurking - there are far too many things that could go wrong.

“then act like it, dickhead.”

yeosang just rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the group and dismissing seonghwa and the conversation completely. he doesn’t know how they can talk about his girlfriend missing to something as mundane as video games, seonghwa getting up with a huff and walking back into the bar.

he checks around the whole bar twice, nearing 1 a.m so the building is at its maximum capacity. but even then, he checks everywhere and doesn’t see you; he even asks girls waiting on line to the bathroom to see if you’re in there, unaware of the dreamy look in their eyes as they nod and hang on to every word he says.

“no one named y/n was in there,” they said a few moments later, an apologetic look on her face before she smiled flirtily. “did you lose your girlfriend?”

he rolls his eyes and thanks them politely, not giving her the time to give him some cheesy pick up line before he’s outside.

it’s warm with such a slight breeze coming off the ocean, looking up and down the block before the beach catches his eye. there’s a few people walking in the distance and he thinks it’s worth a shot, walking away from the bar and going down to the cold, grainy sand.

he’s walking for twenty minutes, about to turn around as he wonders why the hell he’s even looking for you, when he hears soft cries.

he can barely hear them over the sound of the waves but he definitely hears them, squinting his eyes in the distance to see a figure hunched over with their face in their hands.

he can tell you it’s you when he’s a few feet away, the way your hair’s falling and dress is riding up your legs. he swallows thickly, relief flooding through him as he looks over your figure quietly.

he could tell you and yeosang were having problems, could tell you’ve been having them for a few months by how often you and him would hang out at parties, but it seemed as if they were getting worse these days.

he saw it on the beach this morning, the way you went from smiling and laughing to disappearing inside the house. it bothered him then but he knew he shouldn’t butt in, waiting until you guys figured it out or handled things on your own.

but now he can’t just sit back anymore.

he’s seeing changes in his younger friend that he doesn’t enjoy; his drinking, his attitude, the way he’s treating you 90% of the time. and tonight had been the last straw for him, his blatant disconcern for you and your wellbeing completely rubbing him the wrong way.

he continues to approach you quietly, the sound of his footsteps in the sand causing you to look up.

the faint glow from the streetlights and moon cast light on him, calming you immediately as you look up at him. you feel the wet tears on your face but could care less at the moment, sending him a small broken smile that makes you feel pathetic.

seonghwa is similiar to mingi and san in the aspect that he’s able to tell something’s off between you and yeosang. not because he’s nosy (in the most concerned way) like the two younger boys but because he sees it.

watches you at parties and is usually the person sitting beside you on the couch while yeosang’s off doing whatever.

he moves slow and cautious, sitting down on the sand next to you silently. you can feel the heat radiating off his arm, not quite touching you but just a few inches away.

you’re no longer crying but tears are still on your face, leaving you wet and sticky and most definitely tear-stained.

“i don’t know what i did, seonghwa.”

the dirty blonde looks your way when you finally break the silence between you two, seeing your tooth in your lip and eyes strained on the dark, starry sky.

“we’ve been so weird ever since the semester ended and it’s only getting worse. i- i know that’s just how he is but he was like that in the beginning too but he would never ignore me. i don’t know what i did or why he started but it feels like we’re on our way to breaking-”

you can’t even say the words because it’s not something you’re ready to do. you still love him and there’s still hints of you guys as a happy couple, the way he holds you and kisses you and looks at you sometimes.

but the bad is outweighing the god these days and it’s hurting you. hurting you to the point that you’re here, crying on the beach to his best friend who you don’t even realize looks at you a little too long and a little too soft.

and he doesn’t even know what to say to you this moment. because he sees his friend is changing and he sees it’s effecting you; it makes him wanna go back to the bar and punch yeosang in the face, tell him to wake up before someone snatches you away and treats you the way you deserve.

“am i the one being stupid, seonghwa?” you ask again, turning to look at the boy beside you. “do i just have to like... get over it and try for him? try to enjoy all of this and be okay with mingling on my own?”

“you go out with us all the tie, y/n, how are you not trying?”

it’s the softest you’ve ever heard seonghwa’s voice, something about it bringing more tears to your eyes because it’s so obvious that you’re a mess.

“i must not be if he’s being like this. it’s like he doesn’t even know me and he just wants me to leave him alone. he- he even told jisung it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if we broke up, so why am i even crying?”

seonghwa feels rage bubble up in his chest at the thought of yeosang saying that, cracking his knuckles one by one until he’s facing you again. he doesn’t get how he can’t see what he’s doing to you or how he doesn’t care.

“he’s been different these past few months, i’ve seen it too, y/n, so it’s not you,” he assures gently, waning to reach out and touch your hand form comfort. “he’s just... i don’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

you let out a sigh as you hide your face in your knees, tears leaking from your eyes again as quiet sobs leave you.

you feel seonghwa’s hand on your back a few seconds later, moving up and down slowly as you fall into him. you both just sit there on the sand, you crying and him silently comforting you as you try to make sense of this mess.

because even right now, with you gone and not saying a word, he doesn’t care. he’s not calling or texting or going to look for you. he just don’t seem to care at all.

“please don’t cry, y/n,” he mumbles quietly, his thumb moving up and down your skin gently.

but his words don’t help in the slightest. you just muffle your cries until you can’t anymore, peeking your head up as you wipe the wetness off your face.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, feeling embarrassed to have just cried your eyes out for god knows how long; but seonghwa doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, shrugging his shoulders with a small smile on his lips.

“you don’t have to apologize,” he reassures gently, sending a small smile his way.

you watch his eyes roam your face, dark eyes piercing yours in a way that you once found so intimidating. but you’ve gotten to know him so well and know how sweet he is.

how much he looks out for his people and that he’d really do anything for anyone.

“what?” you ask, feeling self conscious and seen. “are there tears on my face?”

“just a few,” he teases, reaching across to dab at the reamining wetness. you smile softly as he tocuhes your skin, watching him so gently reach over your face.

his warm fingers linger on you for a little too long but you don’t even notice, thanking him softly when he pulls back.

you lean back and are reminded of your first date with yeosang, on the sand that feels familiar and the sky with a bright crescent moon similiar to the one around your neck.

it pulls at something in your heart, how maybe you guys will never be like that again. how the honeymoon phase is just something that isn’t meant to to last htat long maybe.

it’s just a fleeting moment that you’ll remember in times like this, when it feels like you guys are about to fall apart.

tears prick your eyes again, a sigh leaving your mouth as you silently beg yourself not to cry again before seonghwa’s on his feet and reaching his hand down, like he knew you were about to blow.

you look at it with confusion, looking from his hand to his eyes looking down at you expectantly.

“come with me.”

“where are we going?” you ask, taking his hand hesitantly. he pulls you to your feet with ease, keeping you hands intertwined as he turns around and pulls you up the beach silently.

“seonghwa,” you whine, your bare foot tripping over the lumpy sand. he just grips your hand tighter every time you stumble, a quiet chuckle leaving his mouth that makes you narrow your eyes at him.

“you’ll see,” he says, eyeing you back just as sternly. “i past it on my way to find you.”

a dimly lit playground with swings and small, slightly janky jungle gym comes into your view, a smile lighting up your face as you turn to look at seonghwa.

“i don’t know how i missed this,” you tell him, knowing for sure you hd to have passed it on your way to the beach.

“you were too busy crying,” he teases lightly, a snort leaving your mouth as you push him gently. he narrows his eyes and pushes you back playfully, watching as you take off in the sand and plop down on a swing.

he smiles as you wave him over, moving the swing and pumping your legs as you hold your arms out to him. he walks over, leaning his head against the chain of the swing next to you watching you sit there and smile up at him.

“push me,” you ask sweetly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “please,” you add, wide glassy eyes and a sweet smile that renders him unable to resist. his warm hands rest on your back as he pushes you higher and higher, your eyes looking out into the ocean and sky as memories wrack your brain.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.

you shake your head from the memories, looking back to see seonghwa still pushing you with a content smile on his face. you stretch you legs to reach the ground, slowing down until you jump off.

you topple on the sand a little bit, seonghwa calling your name with a chuckle and watching as you steady yourself out. you turn to him with a smile, looking up at him in a way that causes his heart to jump in his chest.

he knows he has to ignore though. because problems or not, broken up or not, you’re still his best friend’s girlfriend.

but it doesn’t stop him from frolicking in the sand with you. following you as the playful spirit comes out from zipping down the slide or climbing on top of the monkey bars.

he grabs your leg that hangs off from the monkey bars, your whiney “seonghwa!” echoing through the quiet night air. his laugh causes a smile to light up your face, the two of you in the playground until your body is weak and you’re laid out on the sand.

seonghwa checks his phone to see it’s almost 3:00, wondering aloud if their friends are back from the bar.

and that’s the reality check you need. remembering that your boyfriend’s ignoring you, you don’t know he you did and his best friend is the one here - comforting you, making you laugh and keeping your mind off all the things that are making you sad in the first place.

it’s a very sobering thought that makes your smile fall off your face, jumping up from your spot in the sand as you look at seonghwa.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you guys walk back to the house in silence, arms bumping ever so often in a way that both of you try to ignore. because even if this felt right, even if your time with seonghwa always feels so right and easy, it feels right with yeosang too.

and it’s not like you can just have them both.

gong home to an empty house was incredibly sobering.

your bed was cold, the house was quiet and you had to muffle stupid, disappointed cries into your pillow until you fell asleep.

but there was someone else sitting in the living room, waiting for the moment his friends come back so he can tear his one drunken asshole of a friend a new asshole.

and that’s exactly what he did when he heard the front door open, wooyoung and san’s loud “heeellloo!” echoing through the house causing his head to snap toward the door.

the boys shuffle in, saying their hi’s to seonghwa as they filter in the kitchen and start to raid the cabinets for food. yeosang’s the last to get through the door, his stumbling to a minimum and glassy eyes observing the house carefully.

seonghwa feels his jaw clench, the two boys meeting eyes as the black-haired boy approaches him quickly.

“did you find her?”

“how’d you know i went looking?”

“do you think i’m a fucking idiot?”

seonghwa clenches his jaw again, cracking his tension-filled neck as he looks at his friend. the boys hold a dark, intense eye contact that goes ignored by the rest of the boys - too consumed by their need for food, drunken ramblings, and wooyoung crying about keeping the dishes to a minimum so he doesn’t have to wash them hungover tomorrow.

“she was on the beach crying,” seonghwa eventually bites back, looking at his friend with every hint of disdain and anger. “heard that you said it wouldn’t even matter if you guys broke up or not.”

“that fucking jisung,” yeosang grumbles, seonghwa rolling his eyes and getting up from the couch. he feels yeosang falling behind him, half tempted to tell him to piss off before they’re both just outside the dirty blonde’s room.

“what are you so mad about? she’s my girlfriend, yeosang.”

“and you’re treating her like shit, yeosang. you have been for months. leaving her all the time, barely spending time with her, do you even notice how much she fucking hates going to those?”

“but she still does?” yeosang says, face pulled into confuson and irritaiton - he doesn’t like the way he’s feeling attacked and defesnive. “i never force her to go.”

“obviously she’s gonna go for you,” seonghwa growls, confused as to how his friend is so stupid and blind about this. “because she loves you, yeosang.”

“i love her, too,” he says, “she knows how much i love her.”

the look soenghwa gives him cause his eyes to narrow, anger spiking in him as he pushes his frined back. seognhwa’s eyes flare and he has to hold himself back, knowing that he’s already not in a spot to fight over you.

“and if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you loved her too. running to her rescue right away and nearly ripping my head off before.”

seonghwa doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, the silence doing more than words could at this point. and even drunk, yeosang knows what it means. can see in seonghwa’s face and body language that he has nothing to say because, yeah, he might love her, too.

“bullshit,” yeosang blurts out, a look of shock and horror on his face. seonghwa only shrugs his shoulders, attempting to walk away from yeosang before he pulls his friend back roughly.

“are you kidding me? y/n? out of every woman in this world?”

“i don’t know, yeosang, okay. it just fucking happened. i wasn’t ever gonna say anything to either of you.”

“wow, how noble of you. but you run off to save her when we get ino a fight.”

“because you were being a dick and she was upset,” seonghwa growls back, balling his fists in a similiar fashion to yeosang. “but i didn’t say anytihng to her. i just called you an asshole and said you were changing. not that she should leave you for me, although i’ve been tempted to steal her from you.”

a laugh of disbelief leaves yeosang, his head shaking as he looks over his friend.

“you’ve got fucking balls.”

and if it were anyone else saying this to him, they’d be beaten to a bloody pulp. but yeosang knows seonghwa would never make a move on you, actively try to steal you and get you away from him even if he wanted to.

he even had sinking suspicos that he had feelings for you, catching the way he’d look at you or his gaze would linger for just a little too lnog.

but he trusts his friend and he trusts you.

he was just the idiot now, acting as if you ddin’t mean the world to him and he doesn’t love you more than anyone else in this world.

“i’m gonna go apologize to her,” yeosang says, his gaze meeting seonghwa and making the dirty blonde nod his head. “thanks for taking care of her.”

the dirty blonde only nods his head, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watches him walk out the room and go to you.

yeosang walks in to se your sleeping form on the bed, creeping over to his bag and cringing at the sound of his zipper in the quiet room.

you wake to the sound of shuffling toward the door, eyes peeking open to see yeosang with his shirt off and slipping on pajama pants. he makes his way over to the bed, your eyes closing quickly as you attempt to keep your breaths even.

you think his soft chuckle is a sign that you’ve gotten caught, keeping up the act as the bed dips and he’s sitting beside you, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“i’m sorry, baby, i’m so sorry,” he hums quietly, keeping his eyes on you as a knot forms in his throat.

he hadn’t reaalized how much he’d been neglected you this summer.

how often he was leaving you and just being assured by the fact that you always had someone with you - mingi, san, wooyoung, even seonghwa, although that proved to be slightly dangerous now.

“i know you’re mad, love, but i’ll be better. i was shit faced when i said that to jisung and hyunjin.”

your eyes peak open, seeing his soft, apologetic eyes that makes a frown appear on his lips. your hand reaches up to touch his face, his skin smooth and slight sticky from the humid summer air.

“are you shit faced now? will you even remember this tomorrow?” you ask quietly, still hurt by his words and the way he acted.

he takes your hand from his ace and presses a kiss to each knuckle, shaking his head as he crawls into bed next to you.

“no,” he mumbles, positing himself close to your warm body. “i stopped drinking when no one could find you. your girlfriend going missing tends to sober a guy up.”

a small snort leaves your mouth as you shake your head, meeting his gaze with tired eyes.

“i wasn’t missing, i was on the beach.”

“with seonghwa.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, eyes roaming him carefully. you don’t quite know what to make of his tone or face, choosing to just nod your head in confirmation.

they had to have talked anyway - how else would he have known jisung told you what he said?

“i’m glad he was there for you when i wasn’t,” he mumbles quietly, a sad truth that he has to come to terms with despite knowing seonghwa’s feelings now.

“it’s okay, you’re here now,” you mumble, moving your body closer to his. he smiles against your head, wrapping his arm around you as he presses a kiss to your head.

but you can’t quite shake the feeling of seonghwa being there for you either.

the way he looked at you so sweetly and made you feel better with just his presence. his hold on you strong and gaze so soft, you can’t help but wonder if, somehow, you’ve also somehow fallen for yeosang’s best friend.

november - sophomore year

if someone told you over the summer that in four months, you’d be living with seonghwa and yeosang, you would’ve called them crazy. asked how the hell that arrangement came to be because why would a single man choose to live with a couple in the first place?

but really, the arrangement stemmed from all of you just having terrible luck.

you had started sophomore year on a terrible foot, not securing a single room this semester and getting a roommate you knew from the moment you met was gonna be a nightmare.

she was not only incredibly rude but messy. 

her clothes littered every inch of the floor by the second week of class and her boyfriend would come over at all hours of the day; you understood it was her room too but hearing them try (and fail) to have quiet sex at 2 a.m was not only disturbing but left you exhausted most weekdays.

“i can’t keep doing it,” you whined to yeosang, laid on top of him in his bed.

it was ironic that his apartment, the one with seven hyper active boys you once thought was the loudest place on earth, was now your place of solace.

it was where you went on weekends to get a good night sleep, not only quiet with no interruptions but incredibly comfortable with your head in boyfriend’s warm chest.

“i’m telling you, baby, ask to get a new room,” he says, a frown on his face at the bags under your eyes. 

his fingers swipes under your purple skin and you close your eyes at his gentle touch, always about ready to fall asleep when you’re with him.

“i did, they don’t have anything,” you whine, burying your face deeper into his chest. “i was even looking at apartments off campus but they’re all too expensive.”

yeosang quirks an eyebrow when he hears you say that, biting down on his lip as he contemplates telling you his idea.

because even before your terrible roommate dilemma, he’d been playing with the idea of asking you to move in together. you guys have almost been together for a year and this summer, even with the bumps in the road, had been nice.

waking up and going to sleep together every day had been the best part for him.always being with you and going about your day still with each other. food shopping, furniture shopping, even just watching tv in silence together.

he wanted more of that with you.

“why don’t we move in together?”

he doesn’t mean to blurt it out so harshly but the words just fall out, your head snapping to him with wide eyes.

“what?”

“i... i know it seems kind of sudden but why don’t we move in together? we can split the rent then,” he says, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly. “we basically lived together this summer and that was nice, wasn’t it?” he hums, grinding his body into yours a little too purposely to be innocent.

you roll your eyes despite the smile pulling at your lips, moving away from his chest to peer up at him.

could he be serious? does he really wanna live with you?

“would you really wanna live with me?” you ask quietly, his eyebrows pulling together at the meekness in your tone.

“of course i would, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to cheek sweetly. “why wouldn’t i?”

but even with his reassurance and sweet words, you still felt reluctantly.

it was a big step that scared you not only for financial reasons but because you know how you are. you couldn’t even have a roommate your first semester of college and now you’re gonna live with someone permanently?

but the more days pass with you living with your roommate, the more you realize you would much rather have yeosang. even if it meant taking a big next step with him as your boyfriend.

you walked up to his apartment ready to tell him you were ready to move in together, that you guys have to start looking immediately before you just insist on sleeping on the bench outside your dorms.

but when you open the door to this house, you’re met with chaos.

absolute, disastrous chaos. 

voices screaming, water everywhere and, most importantly, all of them running around shirtless and packing their bags; you suppose this is why yeosang hadn’t been answering your texts.

“um.. what is happening?” you ask loudly upon entering, all the boys heads snapping to you.

you’re able to make out the words water line breakage, flood, drown to death and parents house, the several loud voices rendering you unable to say or hear  anything properly.

yeosang pushes his way through and explains that their apartment is well on its way to being destroyed, a faulty waterline that the apartment manager didn’t take care of threatening to completely flood the building.

“what? where are you guys supposed to go now?!”

and that right there is how your current situation came about. 

moving into a one bedroom apartment with your boyfriend and his best friend, the black-haired boy looking over seonghwa with a particularly harsh look in his eye.

the rest of them were either able to secure dorm rooms at the boys dormitory or move in with their parents who lived close by - but seonghwa’s parents lived out of state now and the apartment he was one step away from closing on fell through, thus leaving him homeless.

this unsettled yeosang greatly, knowing his best friend was secretly in love with his girlfriend still.

“you’re crazy if you think i’d try anything with her at all, let alone with you fucking here, yeosang, shit.”

“i already told you just to tell her so shit doesn’t have to be awkward,” yeosang said, whisper-yelling as you set up furniture in your shared bedroom.

“telling her would make shit more awkward, she doesn’t have to know,” seonghwa argued back, looking toward the bedroom with a cautious look on his face.

ever since he outed his confession to yeosang this summer, he’d been trying to act like the same. 

distance himself physically but remain there for you emotionally - laugh with you, smile with you, act as a friend to you while not pushing the boundary when it came to how he felt about you.

“i don’t know how she doesn’t,” yeosang says honestly, looking at seonghwa with not a hint of anger in his eyes. “you make it pretty obvious.”

the dirty blonde narrows his eyes at the boy, punching him in the arm lightly before setting up the couch that now doubles as his bed - living like a true single bachelor.

you make your way out of your new bedroom, the house almost completely set up with furniture and decor. 

a frown crosses your face when you see seonghwa setting up the couch with pillows and blankets, poking the cushions with your finger as you look at him.

“seonghwa, are you sure this is gonna be okay? sleeping on a couch isn’t comfortable.”

“it’s a futon, y/n, they’re meant for that,” seonghwa teases, a small smile lighting up his face. “it’ll be fine.”

“but are you sure? what if you start to get-”

“he’ll be fine, baby,” yeosang says from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle as his eyes bore into seonghwa. “you don’t have to worry about him.”

the dirty blonde rolls his eyes before looking to you, reassuring you with a small smile and nod. he plops down on the couch and adjusts himself comfortably, giving you a thumbs up as he looks you over happily.

“it’s good, i swear. it’s new so i just gotta break it in.”

“maybe you can invite a girl over. finally get laid,” yeosang mocks, seonghwa biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t say a snappy comment; but you, you of course, have other ideas about how to break it in.

“that’s a great idea! let’s have a movie night!”

and before the two boys can protest, you’re running off to your room and writing in the group chat for the boys to come over at eight with snacks and a list of scary movies to watch.

“she already runs the show around here, doesn’t she?” yeosang grumbles, a smirk crossing seonghwa’s face as he nods his head.

“duh.”

“duh! you never go back in the house, are they fucking nuts!?” wooyoung shouts hours later, the apartment completely dark apart from the glow of the tv and jongho’s pumpkin pecan waffles candle (the one he insisted on bringing to set the mood).

you share a knowing smile with seonghwa, the dirty blonde finding himself in the worst seat of the house - directly next to a chatty, exuberant wooyoung.

yeosang and hongjoong had jumped up and claimed the chaises of the other couch, you spending the first two and a half movies curled on top of yeosang until your side became numb and you stole mingi’s seat.

now you sat beside seonghwa, bumping his arm lightly and giggling any time he made a passing comment about wooyoung or the movie or anything else he found utterly stupid or loud.

“who do you think would be the first to die?” you whisper to seonghwa, a smirk on his face as he looks over at you. his lips quirk as he thinks, looking over the pile of his friends laid out in his new living room.

he catches yeosang’s eyes on him, the boy watching carefully before he looks back to the screen casually.

“definitely mingi,” seonghwa mumbles in your ear, a smile pulling at your lips as you watch the boy clutch onto a blanket tighter and bury himself closer to yunho. “he’s a coward.

“maybe,” you mutter, a yawn escaping you as you adjust your position on the couch. your curled legs hit seonghwa but neither of you move, pulling the fuzzy white blanket tighter around you.

“but i think it’d be jongho to be honest,” you mumble, tired eyes still focused on the screen as you him and talk hushly. “it’s always the person you’d least expect.”

a small chuckle leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he nods his head in agreement, wishing he could put his arm around you so you could fall asleep against him more comfortably.

but he just keeps his arm and legs against you, watching the movie until he suddenly feels the pressure of your head on his shoulder.

he looks down to see your eyes closed, hair splayed over your face as even breaths leave you. you look so at peace and innocent in your sleep, not even realizing when his hand reaches out to move away the strands.

his eyes move to yeosang’s when he realizes what he’s done, looking to the boy who’s still adamantly watching the movie and chewing on popcorn. he settles himself back and tries to relax, feel the warmth of your body on his and tries not to get to comfortable with how nice it feels to have you against him.

a small whine causes him to look down at you a few moments later, his hand reaching down to rub against your blanket-covered leg calmingly. he barely realizes he’s doing it, not until his phone vibrates next to him and he sees yeosang’s name appear.

his eyes shoot up to see the boy looking at him, jaw clenched and eyebrow raised as he nods his head toward his phone.

yeosang [1:04 a.m.] you’re pushing it dick. try not to look so happy about my gf sleeping on you.

the dirty blonde is quickly humbled, removing his hand from your leg before trining his attention back to the screen; but the scene is one yeosang can’t quite shake off.

not because of something like petty jealously or a bad feeling in his stomach. simply because it reminds him of the first time you fell asleep with him, just a random night where you dozed off on his shoulder and he thought nothing of it.

he was listening to the sound of your breathing, the tv just white noise in the background as his own eyes threatened to close.

you’d only been dating for a few weeks, enjoying the closeness that comes with watching movies as you both stay in for the night. he wasn’t quite sure when you dozed off, he just knew when he asked if you wanted to watch the next part of twilight, you didn’t answer.

(yes, twilight was your idea and no, he doesn’t enjoy it or want to know how edward and bella’s wedding is gonna turn out).

he deices to replay the first one, just noise to have on in the background as he starts to doze off himself.

he’s stirred awake, however, when your body lurches forward, a gasp leaving your mouth as you shoot up from your sleep quickly. his eyes are wide as he looks up at you, thinking you’re on the verge of a panic attack or nightmare and fully prepared to help in any way he can.

but he sees your eyes are more so full of shock, looking at him and the surroundings of his room like you can’t believe you’re still here.

“are you okay? what happened?”

“i... did i fall asleep?

“uh... yeah?”

you look to be in such disbelief, he doesn’t know what to make of it. is it that odd that you would’ve fallen asleep? it’s late and dark and you said you hadn’t slept too great the night before.

you look to see his face pulled in confusion, looking at you with a mix of concern and bewilderment that makes you shake off the weird feeling inside of you.

“sorry, it’s just... i can usually never ever fall asleep around people,” you explain to him, a problem since childhood that rendered you unable to attend sleepovers or even share a room with cousins on family vacations.

your parents and doctors said it was probably just that you weren’t tired but it felt as if they were deep rooted trust issues of some kind. not allowing yourself to be unconscious or unaware in the presence of other people.

but you didn’t realize any of that with yeosang; you’ve never felt as comfortable with anyone as you do with him.

“ever since i was a kid, i could only fall asleep alone. it’s like i was too scared around other people or something,” you chuckle out, a small smirk crossing yeosang’s face as he pecks a kiss to your nose.

“hmm.. guess you just really like and trust me, huh?”

yeosang bites the inside of his cheek as the memory comes back to him, watching as your sleeping figure moves closer to seonghwa with a content look on your face.

he can only smirk at the way seonghwa seems conflicted, looking down at you with the softest, sappiest expression he’s ever seen his colder friend wear before they move to him.

yeosang moves his eyes away, training them back on the terrible scary movie that, for whatever reason, has mingi absolutely shitting his pants.

the black haired boy wakes you up at the end of the movie, sitting on the other side of you and mumbling that he’s gonna bring you to your room. you barely stir so he lifts you up effortlessly, a tired whine leaving you before you smell his familiar scent.

your eyes pop open to see him looking down at you, a sweet smile on his face that causes one to break out across your own face.

“hi.”

“hi, love. you fell asleep.”

you nod tiredly, face red and hair messy as he places you down on the bed gently. you curl up and under the blanket, letting out a tired whine as you hold your arms out with a pout.

he snorts as he joins you immediately, moving in next to you and sighing contently when your head rests on his chest. his hand runs through your hair. gently, slow and calming in a way he knows will quickly put you back to sleep.

but he needs to ask you one thing tonight. he needs to settle this once and for all so he can stop his brain from racing and thoughts from spiraling.

“baby?”

“hm?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

even in a tired daze, the question throws you off.

makes you snap your head up and rest your chin on his chest, eyes narrowed and eyebrows shooting up your forehead as you look at your boyfriend of almost a year.

“what?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

he repeats it like it’s a simple question, so straight forward and casual that you would think he was joking if it wasn’t for how serious his expression is.

“i... you’re my boyfriend, yeosang? why would i like seonghwa?”

he bites his lip at the confused expression on your tired face, twirling a piece of your hair at the top before letting it bounce back.

“was just a question, love.”

you look at him in complete shock and confusion, trying to decipher any anger or jealously on his face.

“is it because i fell asleep on him? i didn’t even know, yeosang, i just-”

“no, baby, no,” he’s quick to assure, his hands cupping your face gently. “it was really just a question, okay? i’m not mad or anything.”

you look at your boyfriend but see nothing but honesty in his eyes, reluctantly nodding your head before resting your head back on his chest. he hums quietly as you close your eyes, his chest feeling different than seonghwa’s but still just as comforting.

you don’t even have the time to wonder why you’re even thinking about that, comparing yeosang and seonghwa’s chests and smells, until you’re fast asleep again.

it took four days for you to finally admit it to yeosang.

and it wasn’t even that you lied at the time he asked - you just didn’t even realize.

you didn’t realize that, for longer than you can remember, you might’ve always had a bit of a crush on seonghwa. entranced by his handsome face and the way he carried himself.

how he always looked out for you and made you feel safe and cared for despite not owing you a thing.

but it wasn’t something that was overwhelmingly noticeable. 

you hadn’t thought about seonghwa when you were with yeosang. you hadn’t wished he was him or that the dirty blonde was the one who let you borrow a pen the first day of college.

but you did eventually come to love seonghwa. 

depend on him and look forward to seeing him and knowing that, if you didn’t have him in your life, your life would feel emptier.

but why had yeosang asked that? did he know before you did? did he see something in the way you looked or acted around his best friend? why wasn’t he mad about it?

“we can have a talk about it if you want,” yeosang said when you confessed all of this to him, sitting on your bed with a heavy pit in your stomach. 

“in fact, i think we’ll definitely have to talk about somethings. but for now... i think you should tell seonghwa.”

and if this whole situation wasn’t bizarre enough, admitting to your boyfriend that you liked another man, that surely did it. your boyfriend telling you to confess your feelings to him even though he was his best friend and you two were very much together.

“what?”

“tell seonghwa that you like him, baby,” he mumbles, his hands holding your face gently. there’s so much confusion and hesitation in your eyes he almost wants to laugh but he supposes he can’t blame you.

this whole situation is weird. and he doesn’t know how he knows this is the direction your relationship should go - he’s just felt it inside of himself for the past few weeks.

“stop looking so confused and just trust me, okay? tell him you like him and see what he says.”

so that’s exactly what you do, despite all the confusion still swirling inside of you; because as confused as you are about this entire situation, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you do like seonghwa.

you love him, even. not just as a friend and someone who’s been there for you but more. the way you feel comforted by his physical touch, physical being, how sometimes you’ve felt like, if you didn’t know any better and if things were different, your lips would’ve met with no hesitation.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you find the dirty blonde in the kitchen, hunched over a pot of boiling water as he carefully puts in a bag of ramen.

“seonghwa?” you say, creeping up on him with your hands intertwined and a blush already creeping its way on your body.

“oh, hey, y/n. you want some?”

you peek over at the chicken flavored ramen, your nose twitching when you say the bold, red, spicy printed on it; he lips quirk up into a smirk upon seeing your face.

“sorry. forgot you don’t like spicy food.”

you watch seonghwa stand over the stove for a few minutes, plopping yourself up on the counter to watch him silently. he continues what he’s doing with your silent presence there, completely going about his routine until he tells you to sit at the table with him.

there’a few more moments of silence, just him slurping and your occasional laugh until he finally realizes you came out here to say something.

“so... what’s up?”

you peek up at the boy watching you carefully, slurping a noodle into his mouth and watching some excess broth fall into the bowl.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you wanna tell me something?” he asks, his questioning tone making your heart pound. “or ask me something? you’ve been playing with your fingers for the past fifteen minutes.”

you let out a sigh as you drop your hands to your lap, watching him with a look of mock disdain on your face; curse this boy for knowing you so well.

“it’s a little... random,” you begin, not quite sure how to approach this. 

you’ve never confessed to someone before, especially not per the request of your boyfriend, but you have to imagine these are all the feelings that comes with it.

nervousness in your stomach and warmth fluttering throughout your body, hoping and praying that he like you back because if not, you’re gonna ruin this friendship and that’s not something you want at all.

“and maybe even shocking. but... i think i have to tell you and i hope you don’t think it’s weird. it’s something i just realized within these past few days and i... i don’t wanna ruin anything between us.”

his eyebrows pull together at your words, dropping his utensils on the table as he looks over your face carefully. his stomach’s quickly consumed by nervous, anxiety-ridden knots, looking over your face for any hint of emotion.

but you just seem to look as nervous as him.

“you wouldn’t, you couldn’t,” seonghwa assures gently, his voice deep and soft as he speaks to you and only you; you’re freaking him the fuck out but he’s trying to remain as calm as possible.

“what is it?”

you bite down on your lip as you look at seonghwa, his deep brown eyes staring at you so intensely it makes your stomach flutter. you don’t know how you didn’t reaize sooner that you liked him.

“i.... i like you,” you tell him, voice shaky and soft but the words already out - you’ve said them and there’s no going back. “i like you, seonghwa. a lot.”

it feels as if there’s a giant weight off your shoulders the second you say it, the butterflies in your stomach at an all time high. it feels good to finally say this, finally realize and admit it and let it out into the universe.

“i think i might even love you the way i love yeosang. i didn’t realize because of him, i guess, but now i know i love you both. i don’t know if that’s normal or possible but i really do, seonghwa. i hope that’s not weird for-”

the first thing you taste is the faint spice of chicken broth, unfamiliar but remarkable lips covering yours that you meet back instantly. seonghwa hums against your mouth as he pulls your chair closer to him, the sound of it scraping against the floor going unnoticed by both of you.

you’re only consumed by the feeling of his lips, the small noises leaving your mouth and the desperation of his kiss. how it feels like he’s been wanting to do this for so long, kiss you and touch you and show you how much he’s loved you from afar.

his hand grips your face as he pulls you closer, his deeply mumbled moan of your name against your lips causing you to whine against him. allow his tongue into your mouth and giggle when they collide into one another.

all the kissing stops though the second you hear another voice, the sound of the footsteps approaching you before a hand smacks into the concrete wall harshly.

“i told you to confess. you guys are making out?”

february - junior year

the first thing you learned about polyamorous relationships was that they’re all very different.

the way they come about, the rules in which couples establish, how and why people choose to be in them. there’s not some one size fits all for any relationship in life and that stands true for you, yeosang and seonghwa.

admittedly, things were weird in the beginning. navigating between yeosang and seonghwa comfortably and getting used to having not one but two boyfriends.

there were insecurities to quell on both sides, naturally, and you learned how do that.

assure yeosang that he was enough and that you stayed in love with him for a reason. assure seonghwa that he was enough and that you fell in love with him for a reason too.

many reasons that all became too much and morphed into one another, rendering you, both, loyal and locked down to two men who constantly tested you.

the first test being the blanket dilemma.

without fail, no matter the weather and no matter the sleeping position, you woke up without a blanket. 

you were either curled into seonghwa’s warm body, your legs intertwined and his arms around you, or had your back trapped against yeosang’s chest.

his arms wound tightly around your waist, the steady rise and fall of his breath on your skin as seonghwa laid there with the queen size blanket half on him and half on the floor; that’s what this morning was like, too.

you slowly untangled yourself from yeosang, crawling over to seonghwa until you plopped yourself down on him clumsily. he stirred underneath you, attempting to move and stretch his body with the weight of you on top of him.

you bend down to peck his cheek lightly, smiling when his handsome, sleeping face barely changes. 

you decide to play a little bit more, moving your body back and forth against him teasingly. the movements somehow wake the black-haired boy next to you, his eyes popping open and a smirk on his face as he watches you grind against seonghwa.

“what are you doing, baby?”

his voice causes you to jump, a quiet chuckle leaving him as you move your arms to showcase the stolen blankets.

“he can’t keep doing this!” you whisper-scream, a look of frustration on his face. “every morning it’s either you or him stealing all the blankets and leaving us freezing.”

yeosang rolls closer so he’s in your warm spot in the middle, looking up at you as his hand rests on your waist. you’re only wearing one of his white t-shirts, your nipples peeking through the material not at all helping his morning wood.

“and you think grinding over his dick is gonna help?”

your cheeks flush as you stick your tongue out at him immaturely, tuning back to run your fingers through seonghwa’s dirty blonde hair. 

the slow, calmingly movements cause tired groans to leave his mouth, his eyes eventually popping open before a smirk crosses his face.

“hi, baby girl,” his deep morning voice drones, one hand slipping past your shirt to rest on your waist. “what are you doing?”

“you stole the blanket again,” you whine, the pout on your face one he just wants to kiss off with you on top of him like this.

“i didn’t mean too,” he hums, moving you along by the hips as he feels his cock grow harder. “you had yeosang to keep you warm, no?”

the two share of look, both of them more often than no waking up horny and ready to take you. it’s not something you’re ignorant of either, watching them look at you before, suddenly, you’re pushed down onto our back.

“because, you know pretty girl, we may take the blankets but you take up a whole lot of room,” seonghwa says, his hands running through your messy morning hair.

he’s never slept with someone who kicks as much as you. who, even though you’re the smallest in the bed, take up the most space by far.

“remember the night you almost kicked me off?” he hums, a smirk on his face at the memory. his hand trails down your face, thumb pressing on your lip before he moves his hand over your chin and down your neck.

yeosang smirks when he watches you swallow nervously, his hand on your hip slipping between your thighs carefully. he doesn’t make any moves to touch you, just holds your inner thigh and allows his thumb to move slowly up and down your skin.

“he’s got a point baby,” yeosang’s voice mumbles, slightly deeper than even seonghwa’s morning voice. “you do take up a lot of room for being the smallest one here.”

with their hands on you and an intense feeling building in the air, you’re quickly being humbled. 

seonghwa’s hand trailing over your white t-shirt until it’s ghosting over your nipples, the palm of his hand on the sensitive bud causing your breath to quicken.

or that could be because yeosang’s hand is so close to your pussy, just a few inches away from touching your bare, growing wetness.

“i... i don’t mean too,” you say, growing more and more submissive and ready to whine as your two boyfriends start to cloud your senses; you were scolding them and now you’re the one being punished - how is that fair? 

seonghwa’s hand gently guides your shirt up until your bare chest hits the cold air, a deeply mumbled “fuck,” leaving him before he dips his head down and attaches his mouth to your nipple.

you let out a surprised gasp, sensations of pleasure shooting right between your legs. yeosang is readily there with his long, skilled fingers, toying with your slit and teasingly running up and down the growing wetness.

“you might not mean to,” yeosang says, eyes peeking up to see seonghwa’s face in your chest and your mouth thrown back in pleasure. “but you still do it, don’t you?”

his finger slides into you easily, a loud moan escaping you that has seonghwa smiling against your boob. his other hands move over to tweak with your nipple, yeosang keeping up his movements as he curls his finger inside of you.

you’ve barely been up for ten minutes but you feel yourself about to come, both the boys far too skilled and ready to give you pleasure however and whenever you want it.

you cry out when yeosang slips another finger inside of you, seonghwa disconnecting his mouth from your nipple to kiss you deeply. skilled tongue slipping in your mouth as his lips part on yours and you’re kissing back just as desperately.

chasing your orgasm as your hips buck into yeosang’s hand.

“are you about to come?” seonghwa mumbles when he pulls back, his hand trailing over your neck and squeezing at the sides lightly. “has your pretty little pussy had enough? are you gonna come just from yeosang’s hand?”

“y-yes,” you moan out, hand reaching out to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder. “and your mouth.”

“please, he didn’t do shit,” yeosang mutters, his fingers fucking into you with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

they both watch with lust in their eyes as you moan loudly, eyes rolling back as you throw your head into the pillow. yeosang removes his hand immediately, tapping at your hip gently.

“turn around.”

but seonghwa can tell immediately what yeosang wants to do, the dirty blonde slapping his hand away and instead gripping your hips tightly.

“you got to touch her,” seonghwa growls, bitter over the fact he didn’t get to make you ome first thing in the morning. “now i get to fuck her.”

“you waited too long to make your move,” the black-haired boy smirks, the double meaning in his words making him roll his eyes. “that’s why i got her first.”

“well, maybe if you didn’t-”

“stop,” you whine, the growing feeling of wet empitness making you frown at your two boyfriends. “one of you, please. the o-other can fuck my mouth. i’ll be good, i promise.”

seonghwa and yeosang share a look before the dirty blonde flips you over and pulls up your hips, rising your ass in the air as he holds himself on his knees. the bed is firm enough so that he doesn’t sink down, rubbing over your ass gently before landing a loud, resounding smack.

“you’re always good for us, baby girl,” he says, trailing his dick up and down your wet slit. “you’re always so so good.”

you whine as he teases you, knowing that, with seonghwa, it’s better if you’re polite and wait. he likes seeing you desperate and whining, always waiting until he says it’s okay to buck your hips or chase your own orgasm.

but he doesn’t give you the time today.

because one second you’re empty and wet and ready to scream and then the next, his hips are smacking into yours and he’s fucking the life out of you. snapping them just the right way and in just the right spots for you to be crying out into your hot and stuffy bedroom.

“seonghwa,” you moan, the slapping of skin and quiet grunts filling the room.

it’s all halted, however, when yeosang’s in front of you, his hard cock just inches from your face as he looks down at you. there’s a smirk on his face seeing you so fucked out and desperate because of them, guiding your mouth to him and smiling when you take his cock without a second thought.

your tongue laps at the tip, swirling around and around until you sink down on it further. you hold back a gag when he hits the back of your throat, your head getting into a groove that has yeosang cursing and groaning your name harshly.

“there you go, baby,” you hear seonghwa growl from behind you, his hand reaching around you play with your clit. “you take us both so well. filling you up and making you feel good, right baby?”

“r-right, seonghwa,” you moan, eyes rolling back when his cock starts hitting a certain spot inside you. he can feel you’re about to come by the way you tighten around him, by the way your head starts bobbing harsher and yeosang’s grunts grow louder and deeper.

“come first, baby. it’s okay,” seonghwa says, partially because they always want you to come first and partially because he knows he’s about to bust inside of you.

it takes you clenching and throwing your hips back against his for him to come, one last snap of his hips causing you both to release. you’re moaning against yeosang’s cock when he releases too, the vibrations and knowledge that you just came with his cock in your mouth far too much.

the room is a mess of bodily fluids, heavy breathing and sweat but it doesn’t matter. you collapse on top of the bed as seonghwa pulls out of you and yeosang massages the sides of your aw gently.

the black-haired boy mumbles sweet nothings to you as seonghwa gets a warm rag, cleaning between your legs before he kisses the top of your head sweetly.

“you did good, baby,” he mumbles, collapsing on the bed next to you and wrapping arm around your waist. the three of you lay in silence for a few moments, heart rates calming and senses coming back before yeosang looks at you with a soft, sweetness in his eyes.

“oh. and happy valentine’s day baby.”

you’ll never forget your first valentine’s day as a couple with yeosang and seonghwa.

it was only a few months after you confessed to seonghwa during your sophomore year, the three of you just starting out and establishing rules for your new relationship.

they had all been strangely easy to work out, the number one rule being to always communicate. 

be open and honest about everything one of you may being feeling, so there’s not a spiral of miscommunication and tears the way there was that one disconnected summer.

the transition had been strangely easy for all of you too, probably because yeosang knew seonghwa liked you way before he called his friend out.

the parts of it that had been hard, however, was something you least expected - telling the rest of the boys and reserving a table for three on valentine’s day.

“wait... you’re all going to dinner?” san asked, looking at the three of you with confusion on his face. “can we come? what the hell.”

“you’re not sending us off the bar again but instead leaving us alone? why can seonghwa go but not us? we wanna spend time with, y/n, too.”

“because i’m her boyfriend, bud. who are you?”

seonghwa’s deep, sarcastic voice halted all the whines and complaints immediately, everyone’s eyes wide as they look to yeosang. the black-haired boy can only smirk as he feels eyes on him, a reassuring nod that sends the house into chaos again.

asking what kind of swinger shit is going on and how long it’d been going on under their roof without them knowing.

“it’s not swinger shit, dickhead, we’re just both dating her. like... one cohesive unit that live together and take care of her. me and seonghwa both agreed to it. in fact, i think it was more so my idea.”

“it was definitely your idea,” you tell him, seonghwa’s arm around your shoulder as he watches you talk with  smile. “you’re the one who told me to tell seonghwa i liked him!”

a snort leaves yeosang and seonghwa as there’s a mix of different reviews in the crowd.

hongjoong and yunho are looking on supportively, the only two boys who had lingering suspicions about seonghwa’s feelings for you.

wooyoung, san and jongho are only slightly confused, a mix of happy and cautious like they don’t know what’s about to happen but are here for it.

and mingi is by far the most baffled, looking between you, seonghwa and yeosang before shaking his head in bewilderment.

"straight people are so weird.”

you nearly spit out your drink at dinner reliving the story with yeosang and seonghwa, the table full of meat, pasta and bread as you celebrate valentine’s day together.

going out on dates was something you also had to get used to, usually surrounded by lovey-dovey couples who only had eyes for each other; but for you guys, the dynamic was obviously different.

you’d hold seonghwa’s hand while smiling lovingly at yeosang. yeosang would have his hand on your lower back while you and seonghwa played footsie under the table.

if anyone were nosy or curious about your dynamic, they’d be able to pick up on it really quick - but you three didn’t care. it wasn’t anyone’s business but your own and as long as you guys were all happy, it didn’t matter.

“he’s such a little shit,” seonghwa mutters, a giggle leaving your mouth as yeosang raises a fork to your mouth. you open up happily, biting into a piece of chicken and chewing on the flavorful food.

you three eat until you’re ready to explode, seonghwa and yeosang splitting the check before walking out to your car. 

you half expect to go back home, lay out in bed with them and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy romantic comedy, until you realize you’re in the car for a while.

your head resting on the chair as you turn to look at yeosang.

“where are we going?”

“it’s a surprise,” he mumbles, your mouth dropping open as you look at seonghwa in the back seat.

“wait.. do you know?”

he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk pulling at his lips, a whine leaving your mouth as you wack both of them in the arms.

“that’s not fair! please tell me, too!”

“we’re almost there, baby, c’mon,” seonghwa mumbles, moving closer to take your face in his hands. “come back here with me.”

“no,” yeosang says, taking one hand off the wheel to hold your arm tightly; but seonghwa’s at an advantage, picking you up over the console and dragging you up and onto his lap.

he drowns out the sounds of yeosang’s yelling, securing you onto his lap as you straddle him with a chastising look on your face.

“that was dangerous,” you mumble, a snort leaving him as he shakes his head at you.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, your lips meeting in a kiss that you meet back immediately. 

yeosang looks in the rearview mirror when he hears the sounds of lips smacking and muffled moans, throwing an empty water bottle that just misses seonghwa’s head.

“i’m not your fucking uber driver,” yeosang snaps, “don’t make out when i can’t join.”

“hear that, baby? he wants to kiss me, too.”

you muffle your giggles into his chest, seonghwa and yeosang bantering back and forth as you rest your head on seonghwa’s chest. he’s warm and toned underneath you, the gentle lull of the car causing your eyes to close.

you’re not sure if you fall asleep, you think you’re in that weird space of consciousness and slumber, when you hear yeosang mumbling your name. his lips are by your ear and you look up at him sleepily, a smile on his face when he tells you to wake up.

you look around to see you’re still in the car, the black leather interior one you’re very used to by now. but what you’re not used to seeing is the ocean outside the windows, a gasp leaving your mouth that quickly wakes you up.

you run out and onto the beach, yeosang trailing behind as he shouts your name with a smile.

seonghwa and him had already set up the blankets on the sand, a cooler full of drinks and snacks off the side.

“yeosang told me this was your first date,” seonghwa mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist. “gotta admit, pretty smooth even for him.”

a smile brightens your face as you peck his lips, intertwining your hands before reaching out to grab yeosang’s.

you drag the two boys out to the freezing ocean, both of their desperate pleas to not freeze their balls off going unheard by you. you just giggle and pull them out further, squealing when the freezing water hits you feet and you jump up.

they both move to catch you, yeosang catching one leg and seonghwa catching the other as you hold yourself above them.

“baby, this was your fucking idea,” yeosang complans, the smile on his face proving he’s not bad in the slightest.

you frolic around with the two boys until your feet are numb. giggling and squealing when seonghwa catches you around the waist and pecking yeosang’s lips when you fall back and collapses on top of you.

“i love you,” he mumbles against your mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you smile against him.

you spend the rest of the night cuddled between them, your head on seonghwa’s stomach as yeosang sits next to you, playing with your fingers and blowing hot air on your cold hands.

it’s calm and peaceful and everything you’ve ever wanted. 

there’s a different type of feeling in the air compared to the first time you were here with just yeosang, something that feels right and sweet and like without, both, yeosang and seonghwa here, it just wouldn’t be the same.

“i love you,” seonghwa mumbles when you look up at him, his hands twirling through your hair as he bends down to peck your lips.

all your cheeks are red from the wind and the tips of your fingers are freezing but you don’t wanna leave just yet. you just wanna stay here together, enjoy the silence and the crash of the waves and the occasional squawk of a brave seagull.

maybe even wait until the sun comes up to watch the sunrise, if you guys don’t completely freeze to death together.

january - senior year

your trip to the mountains doubled as a two year anniversary/graduation celebration.

the three of you were still as strong as ever, dealing with bumps in the road that all couples went through: fits of miscommunication, times of insecurity, even acknowledging that, sometimes, you need seonghwa and yeosang for different things.

seonghwa’s the boyfriend who understands you. 

is similiar to you and knows the way your introverted mind works. you go to him when you feel most uncomfortable in a crowd, like at frat parties or in bars where you know yeosang just thrives.

but yeosang’s the one who pushes you to do extraordinary things - maybe not even extraordinary, just things you normally wouldn’t do; he’s the one who pushed you to do you research with your professor that ended up allowing you to graduate one semester early with them.

so in order to celebrate, you three rented a house in the mountains with one bedroom, a giant movie room and a hot tub on the balcony.

spent a week in the snowy, picturesque country where you lounged around in bed, soaked in the hot tub and became even more sure that this is what you wanted for the rest of your life.

to wake up next to seonghwa and yeosang, even if it meant having the blankets ripped off of you in the night.

to live with them and build a life together with them, deal with the bickering that comes with dating best friends who have known each other for their entire lives.

to act surprised when, in a few years when you’re settled with jobs and a house, they buy you matching wedding bands to show off the fact that you’re theirs.

#very mixed feelings about this #u can absolutely tell when i was losing steam jfdkkdf #but whatever #happy vday get urselfs not one but two bfs #seonghwa #yeosang #seonghwa fluff #yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #seonghwa angst #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa imagines #yeosang imagines #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

deancas highschool au, 1.8k.

dean's pretty sure it all comes down to being sam's fault.

kid had walked into their last scooby doo marathon without warning at eleven friggin' pm, startling both cas and him (because they watch scooby doo like it's meant to be watched — with all their concentration, goddammit) and consequently causing dean to knock over the bowl of popcorn and get its contents all over (and some inside) the couch.

fast forward from there to the next time dean asked mary if cas could sleep over, and her immediate condition being that they conduct the grand bingewatch (a necessary element of the dean-cas sleepovers) in dean's room instead of the living room, as she could not possibly handle finding more popcorn under the cushions of the damn sofa than she'd already been fishing for, the last two weeks.

so there.

it is absolutely and indisputably sam's fault that dean is right now half-propped up in bed next to his best friend, with a laptop on his lap and fellowship of the ring playing on it, unable to think about anything except the way their arms press against each other, knees brush, and cas's head ends up looming too close to dean's shoulder to not be resting on it.

oh, and how good cas looks in the almost-dark, lit by whatever's happening — dean knows exactly what's happening — on the screen.

just because.

it's past two — which translates to way too late for a gay awakening o'clock — but dean's pretty sure if his heart keeps beating at this rate till morning, he's going to wake up in an ambulance.

this has never happened before. being this conscious of wherever they're touching, this excited about it, or this intent on stealing glances when he's sure he won't be caught. (okay, maybe that one's happened before but it's beside the point.) put together, it is alien and disconcerting.

and dean's not an idiot. he knows — he thinks he knows what's happening. and he knows it's not supposed to feel like a switch flipping because these things — and that's about all of the clarity he can afford — happen over time. and yet it's like he's walked headfirst into a wall on this weird, weird night.

the only thing he knows for sure is that he's never felt this way before. not towards cas, not towards anyone.

well, there's also never been an anyone (else).

but screw semantics — dean's terrified.

and it's entirely sam's fault, obviously, which is why the next time dean sees the little bastard, he's going to —

"dean."

it's cas, interrupting his very subtle, manageable breakdown in his endearingly familiar why-aren't-you-already-paying-attention-to-me voice.

dean hits pause, pressing the spacebar and turning to face his cas-shaped dilemma in the eye. "what, you sleepy already?"

"of course not." cas's tone is haughty, like one of somebody who hasn't been the first one asleep in a single sleepover in the past. dean takes the blow with grace, because he friggin' deserves that. he's been ashamed of himself every, single, morning-after. "i was just wondering if the movie," cas tilts his head towards the screen. "isn't disturbing your parents or your brother. i don't think we've ever watched anything past midnight in your room before."

trust me, dean's brain supplies, i know.

but cas does have a point. there's plenty of loud noises in lotr, and the walls aren't particularly thick. and the last thing he wants right now is for dad to come see why they're not asleep yet, and find them friggin' huddled together on a single.

not that dean minds it.

"well," dean frowns. "what do you suggest? it is sorta late to switch to sleepover games, by the way, if you were planning on saying 'never have i ever'."

"we could use your earphones." cas says, like it's the most obvious thing. "and neither of us ever win in 'never have i ever', dean. or lose, actually. we know each each other too well. why would i suggest that?"

but dean's already stuck on a previous part of cas's sentence. "m-my earphones?"

cas blinks at him. "yes?"

dean swallows.

"unless you want to play 'never have i ever'?"

dean swats at cas for that, which the latter tries to dodge by pushing dean with both hands, until dean's wriggling and swearing at him to stop trying to put him through the wall because either they really are cosied up in that little space, or being in the middle of a really important realization makes you go soft on your opponent.

when cas finally lets dean go with a self-satisfied grin, dean only falters for a moment before planting the laptop on cas indelicately and knee-waddling to the end of the bed to get to his desk.

he finds his extremely well-used black earphones soon enough and returns to his spot, where cas shifts hardly an inch to give him his due space, resulting in dean well and truly sandwiched between the wall and cas, because his best friend is a jackass like that. and of course, the only reasons dean leans further towards cas with practised annoyance etched on his face is because it's the kind of annoying he's supposed to be, and it's october and the wall is cold.

cas, on the other hand, is really not.

"what are you waiting for?" cas grumbles, eyes squinty at dean in the dark, and dean makes a face at him, plugging it in (without needing to look, not that he'd've been able to see a thing in the dark anyways), and offering cas the left earplug.

which cas promptly puts in his left ear — the one that's farther away — because he's cas, and things like which earplug is meant for which ear, matter to him.

dean friggin' loves him.

and it's some time after dean's put the right one in his left ear — because he's not cas is why, and their heads are close enough already — and they've hit play and settled into the comfortable silence of watching a movie they've both seen at least five times in the past and dean's actually begun to pay attention, that he absolutely freezes in his metaphorical tracks, the entire world stuttering to a halt as he tries to register that last thought.

he loves cas.

he said it to himself. he said he loved him.

and that's just goddamn it.

he loves cas.

dean's eyes flit to cas, who's watching the movie without having any life-altering revelations, stuffing his mouth full of popcorn every five minutes (a habit dean can proudly claim to have been responsible for fostering in the first place), not smiling but with a corner of his lip pulled up like he ends up unconsciously doing whenever he's really paying attention, his profile only half-lit with colors, and his closeness suddenly so incredibly flustering.

yeah, well. you've known it for a while, the voice in dean's head that's not exactly his, returns. haven't you?

and maybe he has.

or maybe he hasn't, and it really does feel like a switch flipping for some people. people like him who're zoning out watching lord of the rings one moment, and smitten with their best friends the second.

it doesn't really matter either way, does it?

it's 2:37 am when dean turns his head to the movie again.

inarguably far too late for anything to matter to dean other the fact that he knows. the fact that he knows that he's in love with cas. and the fact that he is.

(maybe he can think of ways to ask him out tomorrow.

or next week.

or maybe he'll chicken out a thousand times until he finally ends up stuttering his way through a severely practised-in-the-mirror confession eight months later, and cas will smile that smile he reserves for dean, and say he can't make it friday because of astronomy club, and dean'll blush even harder because he knew that, he knows that dammit, and then cas will suggest thursday instead, and thursday will be too soon and way too terrifying and just perfect. and then they'll live happily ever after.)

but dean's got all the time in the world to sort out — read: lose his shit over — the maybe's.

right now? being in love with cas is enough.

and being here, watching the last sixteen minutes of one of their mutually favorite movies in bed with his best friend and love of his life, is perfect.

*

dean does end up falling asleep first, yet again, cause turns out achieving self-awareness and spontaneous living-in-the-moment prowess don't do shit to help with being less of an embarrassment.

but this time, he gets to wake up with an arm slotted around his waist, and a warm castiel curled up close behind him, still fast asleep and breathing in light puffs down dean's tshirt, so maybe, just maybe, he doesn't have to chalk this one up as a loss after all.

doesn't mean cas still won't be a smugfaced little shit about it though.

but then, that's probably one of the things dean winchester loves about him anyway.

#destiel #destiel hs au #deancas fluff #(they're 16 and happy is all you need to know) #bluefirecas #rambleoncas #tearsofgrace #seffersonjtarship #userpris #usersila #holmesemrys #casthyelle #userstarry #it reads like a drabble because i was trying to experiment with my writing style a little. it was definitely fun. #oh and self projections galore >:) #smiledean #rainbowscas #alivedean #seraphcastiel #oh writing my writing

[argylemnwrites]

Sliding In

Pairing: Logan x MC (Ellie Whitnall) - referenced

Book: Ride or Die (~27 years later)

Word Count: ~1200

Rating: PG

Summary: An innocent question prompts some reflection

Author’s Note: Written for @rodappreciationweek Day 1 - Logan. It’s kind of more of a teaser for my upcoming MC piece than anything, but I figured it might be a fun contribution to the Time Capsule Challenge! And yes, this is my same MC from my RODAW Colt x MC pieces from last year. My ROD MC was with Logan until the “it was all planned” reveal, which pushed her to fully embrace her connection/attraction to Colt. This is set about 14 years after the end of those stories as a point of reference.

“Dad, when was the last time you went on a date?”

Logan glanced up from the email he was reading, caught off guard by his daughter’s question. “What?”

“When did you last go on a date?” Lily persisted from across the table, her algebra homework scattered in front of her.

“Why are you asking, Ladybug?”

Lily rolled her eyes at the nickname, one she used to smile widely at when she was little, clinging to Logan’s arm. But now that she was officially a teenager, she was way too mature for it, or so she said. “Just curious. Like, when we’re at Mom and Amy’s, do you go out?”

“Sometimes. Last weekend I went to a Rangers game with some guys from work.”

“That’s not what I meant. Do you go out go out?”

“Don’t you have homework that needs your attention?”

Lily shook her head, adjusting her glasses just slightly. “It’s not due until Thursday. Why won’t you answer my question?”

“Because I’m the dad, and it’s none of your business.”

“Uhh, I’m not little like Landon! It’s not fair for you to blow me off like that!”

“Lily, come on. There is no way you care that much about my social life. So what actually brought on this line of questioning?”

Lily bit her lip and twisted her pencil through her fingers before she asked, “Did you hear that Dani’s parents are getting a divorce?”

Logan resisted the urge to laugh. His daughter was about to try to set him up with her best friend’s mother. This was going to be interesting.

“Yes, your mother told me.”

“Right… well, Dani’s mom is nice, isn’t she?”

“Uh huh,” Logan glanced back at his laptop, pretending to read over the agenda for the meeting tomorrow he had open.

“Dad, stop it! You know what I mean!”

“I do, Lily. But sorry, I don’t do set ups.”

“Ugggh,” she groaned out with a sigh as rolled her shoulders. “Why not?”

“Let’s just say the last time I was set up with someone, it ended pretty badly.”

Lily seemed to accept his answer, though not without a massive sigh and another eye roll, but her topic of conversation stuck with him all night long. Past tucking in Landon and calling out for Lily to get off her phone and go to sleep.

Sitting in bed, he pulled out his own phone. He hadn’t really thought about her in years. And while every so often she would drift across his mind, it had been almost two decades since he last saw her. But even though Kaneko’s instructions to pursue Ellie Whitnall hadn’t exactly been a traditional set up, it was close enough that he was thinking about her now.

He hadn’t kept track of her after they all split up. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. But she needed space, from the whole Mercy Park Crew really, but from him in particular. He’d hurt her, violated her trust, broken what they had. She deserved a wonderful life where she could succeed and thrive without a bunch of wanted criminals holding her back. He’d known if he knew where she was and what she was up to, it would have been too hard to stay away. He would have been behind the wheel in an instant, drawn back to her side.

So back when they’d all gone their separate ways, he’d made the choice to let her be. He resisted the urge to check in, to see where she was, how she was doing. At first, it felt nearly impossible. But as time marched on, the desire to search for her, either digitally or in person, faded into something more manageable. Cold, lonely nights eventually shifted into a new life and existence as he moved from Detroit down to Dallas. He got his GED and got hired on the design team at Toyota. He met Lucy, got married, had two children. His life filled with new joys, ones he never could have dared to dream of. Thoughts of Ellie shifted from a deep pang to a fleeting nostalgic glow. Not for the life he lived back when he knew her, and certainly not for the role he played in the destruction of their relationship, but for the way his first love shaped him. For the hope and compassion she’d introduced to his life, without which, there was no way he would be where he was today.

He wondered, for the first time in quite some time, what she was up to. How she was doing. He hoped she was at least as happy as he was. She deserved that much. Hell, she deserved much more than that. He was divorced, trying to figure out the coparenting thing with his ex and her girlfriend. It had taken him a long time to find steady work. While all of those struggles were manageable, particularly compared to his teenage years, they still weren’t ideal. And if anyone should have an ideal life, it was her.

He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he started to search “Ellie Whitnall” tonight of all nights. He had no idea if she was still in LA or even if Whitnall was still her last name. She could easily be married at this point, although searches for “Ellie Kaneko” didn’t bring up any results. He scrolled through dozens of Ellie Whitnalls on Pictagram, trying not to imagine his daughter screeching out that only “old people” were on Pictagram anymore, glancing at faces, trying to see if any of them looked familiar. But maybe twenty or twenty-five profiles down, he stopped in his tracks.

It was her. She looked so similar. Her hair was a bit shorter, and she didn’t look like a teenager anymore, but he didn’t need the frequent location tags of Los Angeles to know it was her. She looked just like she always had in so many ways. Same thoughtful eyes. Same wide smile. Same little crinkle of her eyebrow when she laughed.

Seeing her again, even just through a screen, was how he always knew it would be. He scrolled through her posts, ravenous to see more of her, to catch any glimpses of her life that he could. She had a daughter, who looked to be a few years older than Lily, with dark brown hair and Ellie’s nose. She seemed to have a close group of friends, as she posted numerous photos of her with the same six women. She didn’t seem to have a partner, though. And there was no ring on her finger.

He had no excuse for what he did next, nothing to blame it on other than seeing her again tripped something inside him. It wasn’t exactly regret or hope or expectation. More a curiosity than anything. After all, he’d always been drawn to her quiet intensity. But for whatever reason, he swiped, pulling up the option to send her a DM.

Hey Troublemaker. It’s been a while

Perma: @mom2000aggie @octobereighth @kingliam2019 @lovingchoices14

ROD: @burnsoslow @mskaneko @iplaydrake @louvregirl

Logan x MC: @ridemelikeiamyourdevoregt​

#rodaw #logan x mc #rodtimecapsule #choices rod #rod fanfic #choices fanfiction

[arhvste]

❝ kuroo tetsurō - rate-a-child ❞

in which kuroo takes a more refined but catty approach towards having his say on your daughters ex boyfriend leaving her in tears

an - sorry this took so long to get out, this went hand in hand with the hcs i did that’s why it’s a little late seeing as i changed the concepts for oo of yesterday’s work !!

tetsu week masterlist

“i’ll kill him.”

“you’ll do nothing of a sort.”

“i meant with kindness.”

“kindness my ass, the look on your face says it all!”

you were currently in a hissing match between yourself and your husband as you stood outside the bedroom door of your 16 year olds daughter who was currently curled up under her sheets which were damp with tears.

the catalyst to the situation was when your daughter first slipped in through the front door and failed to greet yourself and her father as usual. you hadn’t missed this as you poked your head out of the living room only to see a pair of legs stagger up the stairs without much care placed in each step.

“tetsurō, is she okay?” you whispered nodding towards the door your daughter had just entered through from school.

“i couldn’t tell you, she didn’t look in my direction.” kuroo raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his laptop screen briefly towards the hall.

“i think i’ll go and see.” you muttered as you dropped your phone onto the couch and headed towards the staircase.

“i’ll come.” kuroo got up ready to stand only to halt when you shot him a piercing look.

“this is mother-daughter time i think.”

“aw don’t be like that! why can’t i be included and see what’s wrong with my little girl?”

you rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“because i don’t think she likes how you baby her so much. she’s independent tetsu, we have to accept it. just let me talk to her first and you can come up in a few minutes okay?”

“guess you’re gonna have to take her amounts of babying in her place then.” he pouted to which you let out an airy before heading upstairs to your daughters room.

you knocked and waited for the signal to come in but it never came. you tried again and still no reply. pressing your ear to the door you heard soft sobs coming from inside as your heart rate sped up.

“i’m coming in” you quietly warned before gently opening the door, your daughters saddened form right before your eyes.

“oh!” you rushed over to her side and pulled her weak state into your arms as you sat on the side of her bed.

“baby what’s wrong?” you cooed stroking the hair stuck to her face as a result of wet tears dripping down her face.

“-he -he dumped me.” she hiccuped as more tears dropped down her face.

you frowned silently to yourself as you racked your brain for an appropriate response.

kuroo had been your first and only boyfriend so you had never been broken up with before so you couldn’t understand the pain she must’ve been feeling. for now, rocking her back and fourth and calming the crying seemed like the best option until you could think of how to approach it without looking too aimless.

as if the heavens had opened their gates specifically for you to grant any wish you so much desired, your husband entered your field of vision in the doorway as his eyes softened at the two of you.

“so much for mother-daughter time.” you tutted and kuroo softly smiled before approaching the two of you.

“i know you’re relieved i’m here, it’s written all over that pretty face of yours.” he replied he took a seat on the other side of your daughter.

“can you not flirt while in front of me whike i’m going through my first teenage heartbreak!” you daughter snapped as kuroos eyes widened.

“heartbreak?” you sent a pleading look his way as if to beg for him to say something to attempt damage control.

“o-oh i mean, heartbreak yes. well, i’m just waiting on you to confirm it was that ugly boyfriend of yours who did it so i can take matters into my own hands.”

you glared at your husband who now had a small fire ignited in his eyes.

“it was. -but please don’t say anything! i don’t want this to be a thing!” you daughter tugged at your husbands arm pleading him to keep this to himself.

“no can do. princess, you’re crying. i never want to see you cry especially over some boy who’s league you were well above anyway!” he scoffed as he got up to leave.

“don’t worry pretty one, dads gonna get him back for ya!”

“tetsu don’t-”

and with that he shut the door behind him, leaving you to scramble to your feet offering an apologetic look to your daughter to which she dryly laughed and waved off her fathers antics. you hastily dashed out the room to grab kuroos hand before he could get any further down the hall which was where you were presently questioning your husbands motives.

“y/n, let me go please.” he whined as you held his arm tighter.

“and if i do then what?” you pressed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“then i’ll get revenge for our little girl.”

“then i’m not letting you go.” you quipped back frowning at him.

“makes no difference to me.” he sighed using his other arm to scoop you up easily off of your feet and out of shock you let him go.

“tetsurō! let me go! i want no part in this!” you hissed as your husband carried you down the stairs and into his home office.

“why are we in here?” you quietened down once he placed you on the plush black couch in his work space.

“you didn’t seriously think i was going to actually show up at his house or something did you?” he grinned as he sat upon his desk chair to fire up his desktop.

“yes.” you honestly muttered, raising an eyebrow towards him.

he cackled and shook his head before motioning for you to come over to which you found yourself obliging to.

“look, i’m not gonna be too embarrassing speaking for her but i think you’re gonna want a say in this eventually.” he explained as your confused face only stuck as you watched him open his emails.

he typed in the email address of your daughters ex boyfriends parents. you knew you had their contact details as they had requested your husband help them get their son into the sport industry to which kuroo very reluctantly agreed to, only because you insisted.

kuroo was never a fan of the boy. he knew from the first time he met him that he would cause trouble and as much as he’d like to have his ‘told you so’ moment, he knew that it could wait. he’d prove his point another way instead.

‘dear mr and mrs whatever your last names were, i’ve forgotten it already,’

you flicked him on the arm for that but something told you to let him continue as you silently fed off of the pettiness yourself.

‘it’s come to my attention my suspicions about your ‘boy’ were right. he is in fact a trouble maker and i should’ve prevented him from getting involved with us from the very start when i first had a hunch.’

kuroo typed with such precision and passion. you had never seen him so into an email before and you weren’t sure whether you should’ve been concerned or not.

‘i first had an idea of what sort of person your son was when my daughter for some reason brought him over for dinner. his manners? comparable to a farm animal. who eats with their mouth open?’

humming as he typed, kuroo mentally listed all the time he didn’t like the boy which wasn’t exactly hard since you knew he had disliked him from the very start and while right now your daughter might’ve been upset and distraught, he was silently happy that he was finally out of the picture.

‘another thing i find closely similar to a farm animal in him is his hair. i don’t particularly understand why you allow him to leave the house looking such a state, but you’re certainly not doing him any favours by doing so.’

you snorted reading this one as kuroo glanced up at you.

“i think that’s a bit rich coming from you.” you hummed as your husband snickered.

“my hair and his hair are two very different situations. mine is unintentional and you love it. his... well, his is just straight up ugly and he intentionally styles it that way.” kuroo replied before turning back down to face the screen.

‘i remember the first time i enquired your son about his very ‘unique’ hairstyle and he scoffed in my face and told me it’s what was currently ‘trendy’. forgive me if i’m wrong, but a trend is a pattern multiple people follow and make normalised no? i haven’t seen another soul wander around with the same bizarre mop on their head as your son, perhaps a dictionary is in order to be purchased for your son so he can educate himself on what a ‘trend’ really is, because no sane being would follow along with his atrocious aesthetic.’

your eyes danced over the screen as kuroo typed it up so flawlessly, it was as if he had revised everything he’d been wanting to say for months which in all honesty, wouldn’t shock you considering how vocal he was speaking against your daughters then boyfriend.

‘so not only is your son lacking in the aesthetics department but also the personality. i’m not quite sure why he thinks his rude tone is normal, but it’s not. why does he act like owns the place whenever he visits my house. i hate to make assumptions, but your boy isn’t bringing any income to the table is he? so tell me why he acts like he does whenever he comes over.’

the irritation deepened on kuroos face as he recalled all the times the boy would come over and treat the house like his own. his shoes muddy and left in the middle of the hallway, his feet always propped up on the coffee table centred in the living room by the couches, no greeting or acknowledgment when he’d come in, he’d simply come in and head straight upstairs to your daughters room. kuroo was agitated each and every time but held his growing aggravation together at the insistence from you that your daughter would come to her senses soon enough and dump him. the outcome is technically what yourself and kuroo had wanted, although, the two of you were confused as to why your daughter was crying over someone so inferior. nevertheless, you were both internally relieved it was all over now.

‘while i know your son is still growing up and such, i do think 16 years old is a little concerning for him to not know manners. this is exactly why i was reluctant to help him into getting into the professional sports industry. both yourselves and your son were demanding of my assistance however, let it be known msby weren’t fans of your son and his awful mannerisms in the slightest so i wouldn’t prepare myself to cheer him on at their stadium anytime soon so hold your breaths.’

kuroo recalled the few times he brought the wretched boy to work with him only to suffer at the hands of secondhand embarrassment. he was rude and obnoxious towards the staff and had provoked several of the players leaving kuroo to apologise in his place and guide him as far away from the pros as possible.

‘i’m glad myself and my family are finally able to wash our hands with him. i didn’t like him and my wife wasn’t too keen either. teach him to do better than this. while i’m bothered by my own daughters current state of upset, i know her tears will dry quickly once she realises what a waste of time this all was. i don’t want a reply, i want an improvement from your son. don’t let him treat his next girlfriend (if he’s lucky enough to get one) the way he treated my daughter and i think basic manner instructions and examples are required for him to start an improvement.’

your arms draped over kuroos shoulders as he gunned finishing his email.

‘my daughter will move on quickly from this, i have no doubt in that, but teach your son what it means to be a responsible man and reshape the strange looking piece of clay of a child you’ve moulded him into. there’s still hope (if you’re optimistic). overall, i’m rating your child 2/5 stars. he was reliable but that’s the only good thing he had going for him. take my constructive criticism and work on improvements for the future! yours sincerely, kuroo tetsurō’

with a slighter harder press on the final letter of the email, kuroo clicked a few options on the email and wasted no time in hitting the ‘send’ button before exhaling.

“that was... something.” you muttered as kuroo turned to face you on the office chair.

he laughed softly before pulling you onto his lap and leaning in. his hot breath ticking the back of your neck as he spoke.

“i think this is going to shake them more than a visit to their house won’t it? i’m sure an email is the last thing they’re expecting.”

you leaned back into his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist as he pressed soft kisses to the back of your neck.

“i hope one day, she finds someone who’ll love her the way you love me.” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut.

“i know she will, she has your good looks and my sharp wit, i don’t have a single doubt she’ll find someone as good as her over time.” kuroo murmered his kisses ceasing for a moment.

the two of you sat there in contentment for just a moment before you pulled yourself from his grip and stood before him offering your hand.

“boys can wait, the only boy she needs in her life right now is sat right before me and i think she needs him to come and comfort her with me for now.” you softly smiled as kuroo smirked.

“so, i finally get an invitation to mother and daughter time?” he leaned further back in his chair, sharp features only more defining.

“looks like it.” you confirmed as kuroo reached for your hand.

“then, i gladly accept.” his calloused hand took in your own as you tugged him off the dark leather office chair.

you and kuroo had no doubt your daughter would pick herself up on her own over time. that didn’t mean you wouldn’t slyly defend her behind the scenes though because while kuroo loved the idea of his daughter staying his little girl forever, he knew better than to tug at her independence.

nevertheless, your little girl or not, yourself and kuroo would go to all ends to make her happy and if that meant to send a petty email, the so be it. yourself and kuroo would gladly sit at your screens for hours and type up as many needed if it meant to make your daughter happy.

there wasn’t really anything kuroo wouldn’t do for his family and you loved that about him. always taking the higher ground and solving issues in sometimes questionable but logical ways was kuroos method at tackling things. youd question his motives but he’d always come through in the other end. perhaps you’d have to trust your husband from the start of these situations a little more in the future.

dt - @aislastetsu

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @tsukkaria @kuxredere @warakou @mattsuny @lovinnoya @sophiashortcake

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq #hq x reader #hq x you #tetsu.week<3 #queue !!

[syndianites]

A Queen Serves and Protects

Chapter Two

Last Chapter --> Current --> Next Chapter!

Summary:

Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe’s character could have developed] ——————————————————————————————

Twenty four hours went by excruciatingly slow for Pollen.

First, she had to wait through the night. Chloe hadn’t unboxed her until late in the day, when the sun was almost gone. That left little time in the day for much interaction with others.

But she didn’t spend this time twiddling her thumbs. She did what research she could. After observing Chloe- who she learned the name of moments after their deal- meander on her phone and laptop for a few hours, she had a dubious grasp on how the current technology worked.

It was quite the adventure.

But after trial and error, she managed to look Chloe up on the internet. (And what a fascinating thing!). The results gave her a basic background; Daughter of the Mayor of Paris, Mother is a renowned expert in the fashion industry, and so on. She seemed clean, for all Pollen could tell.

So she searched her room. Most of what she could see was clearly expensive, from shiny new gadgets to prim and proper clothes. Beyond some Ladybug merchandise- and oh boy was this girl a fan of Ladybug- nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

A sneak around the hotel didn’t reveal much about Chloe, herself, but her parents on the other hand….

What disasters!

Calling their relationship dysfunctional would be a complement. They were completely polarized opposites, and not in the good, healthy way. Her mother was derisive and cruel, refusing to associate with those she believed were below her and didn’t meet her exceptional standards. Her father was, despite his position, a lapdog. He would bend over backwards to please his wife, acting like a doormat.

Together, they were the perfect image of an Evil Queen and her loyal Servant.

It didn’t give Pollen any good feelings about how Chloe herself would act. Would she take after her parents? Or would she be her own person?

Day time did not ease her fears. Chloe was brash and rude, clearly taking after her mother. She didn’t remember anyone’s names, was haughty and snappy towards her staff, and clearly was comfortable acting above everyone else.

Not a good sign at all.

The way she treated her ‘friend’ was yet another bad sign. Just like her mother had her father as a lapdog she, too, had her friend as a lapdog. However, Pollen took note of how she did remember her name. That must count for something, she considered doubtfully.

School was a disaster for Pollen.

Chloe started out just as haughty as she had in the hotel. Somehow, she got worse. Rude to other students, sneering at and belittling them, and outright mean. Treating her ‘friend’ as a servant. Disregarding other’s feelings. Causing chaos in the class.

There was little Pollen saw as redeemable for Chloe. Between her attitude towards those who worked for her and her family and those who she spent most of her time around, acts of kindness were nigh impossible to find.

As they made their way home, Pollen mulled over how to find Ladybug or Master Fu. In theory, she could try and call out to the other kwami, but such an act took a lot of power and could draw the attention of Hawkmoth or worse. She could camp out until Ladybug and Chat Noir had to come out for another akuma, but how would she manage to transport her miraculous across the city without getting snatched by said akuma?

But as Chloe walked into the lobby of the hotel, her mother’s voice caught her attention.

“Clara!” Audrey strutted up to her daughter, typing away at her phone with one hand. “I need you to fetch me something dear.”

‘Clara?’ Pollen mused, ‘Her name’s Chloe.’

Chloe perked up. “Of course mother. And my name’s Chloe. What can I do for you?”

Audrey waved her hand, “Whatever you say, Cindy. I heard that Adrien Agreste, Gabriel’s son, is in your class. I need you to ensure that Gabriel seated me in the correct location this time. The reshoot of the fashion show is today and I will not be in the second row again.”

From where she could just see Chloe from the gap in her purse, Pollen watched her face fall before she straightened back up with a nod. “Of course! Putting you in the second row is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Yes, yes, now please leave. I have business to attend to Carrie.” Audrey dismissed Chloe with a wave before heading deeper into the hotel.

Chloe, despite being misnamed three times in a row, seemed determined to please her mother. She gripped the handle of her bag tighter before rummaging in it to fish out her phone. Barely looking up, she wandered towards the elevator that would take her to her penthouse suite.

When the doors closed and left Chloe alone in the elevator, Pollen poked her head out of the bag. “Is it often your mother gets your name wrong?”

Her lips thinned as she pressed them together. “Yes.” Chloe’s response was short and clipped.

Pollen mulled this response over. Pieces of the puzzle that was Chloe were falling into place. As the doors opened again, Pollen ducked back down into the purse.

Chloe continued to text until a smile lit her face up. “Oh, Adrikins! I can always count on you.”

She skipped into her room, shooting a text to her mother- who didn’t respond- that her seat was guaranteed to be in the front row. Chloe went to toss her bag before remembering that it was occupied and lowering it down on a chair gently.

“Alright, Pollen, how was I? As great as you imagined I would be?” Chloe placed the back of her hand under her chin proudly.

In lieu of an answer, Pollen merely replied,”It hasn’t been twenty four hours yet, Chloe.”

Chloe groaned, grumbling complaints about how her heroic qualities should be obvious by now, but ultimately let it go. They had made a deal, after all.

“Oh,” Chloe said suddenly, “Sabrina will be coming over soon, so you’ll want to hide out for a while.”

A perfect opportunity to see what Chloe was like behind closed doors.

Turns out, she was strangely sweet. 

Sabrina and Chloe played together like any teens would; watching shows together, gossiping- albeit in a less than kind way- doing each others’ make-up, and most embarrassingly playing ‘Ladybug and Chat Noir’. Despite herself, Pollen found it endearing.

Still, it was not enough to sway her. Endearing or not, Chloe was not fit for being a superhero.

///////

The fashion show was cute. True to word, Chloe and her family were sat in the front row where Audrey critiqued- quite loudly for such an event- each outfit that came about. A few she praised, but they were few and far between. 

When Adrien Agreste appeared, the Style Queen gave an appreciative hum. “What quality craftsmanship. Surely an exceptional designer made that hat.”

It wasn’t until after the show that things went south.

Audrey had approached Adrien and, to many’s surprise, Gabriel Agreste in the flesh to discuss the fashion. 

“My dear, it seems you’ve set up yet another exceptional line of clothing. That hat dear Adrien is wearing is quite the gem among them.” Audrey gushed to a polite but stone-faced Gabriel.

“Ah,” Gabriel began, “That hat is not a design of my own.”

Adrien piped up here, “It was actually made by a friend of mine! Marianette,” he called over his shoulder, locking eyes with a shocked dark haired girl. “Come show Audrey this hat you made!” 

Nervous and stuttering, Marianette explained the logistics of her hat and its design, from the synthetic feather to the careful craftsmanship. Audrey, a known harsh critic, glowed as she listened.

“Fabulous, my dear!” she crowed, “I simply must see more of your work. How would you like to come to New York with me to design more fashion for a line of mine?”

Pollen, invested in the conversation, was pulled out of it by a shaking sensation. She looked up to see Chloe outright trembling as she pulled her hands into fists.

“Mother! Why would you take her of all people!” Chloe burst out. All eyes turned to her. 

“Why, Connie, it’s because she is quite exceptional! I would recognize such talent a country away,” Audrey replied with a dismissive wave.

“So am I!” 

A laugh. “Dear, the only exceptional thing about you is your mother.”

Had it not been for the hubbub of people around them, you could have heard a pin drop. Chloe stared resolutely at the floor, teeth grinding together and tears threatening to fall. Marianette, for her part, looked like a deer in headlights, stuck between a sharp drop off a cliff and an incoming car.

“Now Audrey,” Gabriel started, before getting cut off.

“I am exceptional!” Chloe shouted. “I will show you! I’m going to be a super heroine! Just you wait, I’ll be better than this girl will ever be!”

Audrey outright cackled. “Oh honey, keep dreaming. There is not a heroic bone in your body.”

Eyes watering and lips trembling, Chloe turned on a dime and stormed off. Pollen caught Marianette make an aborted move towards her, but was stopped by Adrien putting a hand on her arm.

Fuming and ready to bawl, Chloe bust out the front doors and began running down the sidewalk. For minutes, safely tucked into Chloe’s bag, all Pollen can hear is hard footsteps, people shouting, and Chloe’s heavy breathing.

After hearing doors slam open and closed repeatedly, Chloe and Pollen are left in silence. When Pollen braved a look out the purse, she sees that they have found their way back to the locker room at Chloe’s school. Seeing that they were alone, she moved out into the open.

“Fuck!” Chloe exploded. “How dare she!”

Feeling the rage roiling off Chloe, Pollen rushed to calm her. “Chloe, take a deep breath. Give yourself a minute to let it simmer.”

Icy eyes shot up to look at Pollen. “Take a breath? Let it simmer? Are you kidding! I have done my best to make my mother see I am exceptional, so show her that  I am good enough, and what does she do? Invites Dupain-Cheng of all people to go with her to New York.”

Pacing back and forth in front of the benches, Chloe growled. “Do you know when the last time I saw my mother for more than a day was? Years ago! Years, Pollen!” Tears trickled down her cheeks as Chloe caved in on herself. “I’ve done my best to be just like her, to show her I can be great too. Why won’t she ever look at me?”

With a hesitant pause, Pollen reached a paw out to Chloe’s shoulder. “Some people can’t be pleased, Chloe. You shouldn’t base your self worth on the word of another.”

Chloe jerked her shoulder away, turning her back to Pollen. “You don’t understand.”

“My mother left when I was young.” She walked forward towards the door so that she could peer out the window. “I didn’t understand why. She didn’t even say goodbye.”

“But,” Chloe continued, “If I can just get her to see that I’m worth staying for, she’ll stay here. Maybe, just maybe, I can convince her to be part of our family again.”

Red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks turned back to Pollen. “It’s just so hard. She hardly cares for me at all.”

A pause. “Pollen?” Chloe bit her lip. “Am I unlovable?”

“Of course not. Chloe, no one is beyond love. Not even the worst of people.” Pollen could feel the tides shifting. Before, she was determined to leave Chloe behind. But now? Her heart ached at the thought of abandoning her.

Chloe starts to say something else, but all Pollen could hear was the flap of wings. Her eyes flicked to behind Chloe to where the locker room door was just set ajar. A delicate butterfly of deep, cracked purple squeezed its way inside.

“Chloe!” Pollen yelled. But it was too late. The butterfly touched down on her white sunglasses and disappeared without a sound.

A sudden blank look came across Chloe’s face. A purple butterfly mask appeared across her eyes. Every part of Pollen screamed that she was in danger. Not just from an akumatized Chloe, but from Hawkmoth knowing that she was with Chloe.

Her eyes darted around the room. She needed to hide. It would be safer for the both of them if she kept herself unknown.

“Yes, Hawkmoth.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml #chloe bourgeois #chloe bourgeois redemption #pollen #pollen (ladybug) #kwami pollen #bee miraculous #bee!chloe #original akuma #shit mom Audrey #im bad at tagging on tumblr #ml fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

[woogyu]

A World Tinted Gold | Mingyu; Chapter Two

Kalon; beauty that is more than skin-deep

streamer!y/n x werewolf!mingyu

notes; werewolf au

word count; 1749

previous | next | masterlist

summary; The only werewolves you encountered were the ones living inside your video games. They were nothing more to you than mythical creatures you often had to kill in order to complete objectives. You had a good thing going with your online gaming setup. Your supporters were kind and usually tipped well during streams. Sure it meant you had to deal with the occasional creep sliding into your DMs, but it was worth it. Playing games online was putting you through college. Little did you know your quiet life was about to be turned upside down at the hands of someone you didn’t think existed outside of the virtual world.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Are you seriously watching that steamer again? Why don’t you just play the games yourself?” Seungcheol questioned as he stepped into Mingyu’s room, chuckling as the younger wolf quickly turned around and blushed.

“It’s not the same… I’m not really interested in the games, I’m interested in her” Mingyu admitted sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. He didn’t know what it was about you that made him so transfixed, but he had a hard time tearing his eyes from the screen. Hell, just the other day when you read his comment aloud, he was over the moon.

“It’s rare for you to show interest in a girl at all” Seungcheol remarked, eyebrow pulled up in question. Until a wolf found its mate there was little reason to get involved with or show interest in others romantically. There were of course some wolves that preferred being unmated; it allowed them to be explorative with their romantic partners. Not all wolves longed to find their mate, and not all wolves would end up finding their mates. He knew destiny had a hand to play in it all, but the thought of never finding who he was supposed to be with made the wolf in him whine. Mingyu wasn’t an unmated wolf that enjoyed exploring his options, he was desperately waiting for the day he met his mate. Right now, Mingyu wasn’t sure if he was simply lonely or if there was something more going on.

“There is just something about her…” Mingyu started, pausing for a second to find the right words, “I just have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the screen. There is something about her that just draws me in” Mingyu explained. He wasn’t doing a very good job at explaining the feelings that bubbled up inside him when he saw you on screen. When he tried to explain it he could never quite describe the feeling that settled over his chest and body, it was a warmth almost like a subtle glow within him.

Seungcheol didn’t comment on it any further as he moved into the room and crossed his arms over his chest. Mingyu knew better than to ignore the alpha, closing his laptop he turned to face Seungcheol fully. Their pack had a different dynamic than most. Normally a thirteen-member pack would be impossible because of the strain it put on the head alpha. It worked for them because while Seungcheol was their main alpha, they had two secondary alphas, Jihoon and Soonyoung. The three of them shared the work of looking after the group and it worked perfectly for them. He liked that the alphas didn’t abuse their power, there was a lot of lenience in the pack and it made for less confrontations.

“Joshua has to head into town tonight and won’t be able to run the perimeter. Would you be alright with doing it?” Seungcheol asked, pursing his lips as he looked down at the younger wolf. Mingyu normally enjoyed running the perimeter, it meant he got to shift and stretch his body, but this time he was a little bit more hesitant with his answer. Mingyu knew that later on tonight you would have a new video posted and he would have to wait even longer to watch it. It seemed like a silly reason, but his heart ached at the thought of not being able to ‘see’ you on screen until early tomorrow morning.

“Sure! I don’t mind” Mingyu answered with a half-smile, Seungcheol never asked him for much so he figured he could help him out with this. Seungcheol breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned back against the wall.

“Thank you, I didn’t really want to be the one stuck doing it again” Seungcheol admitted, the alpha had been on perimeter duty for the past 3 nights and must have been eager for a good night’s sleep. Mingyu smiled and nodded his head a few times, his own wants would just have to be paused for a little while.

Before leaving the room Seungcheol patted him on the shoulder, yawning a little bit as he headed toward what Mingyu assumed was his own room. Mingyu was thankful that Seungcheol’s parents had left him their families pack house. Coming from a family of alpha’s certainly had its perks, and it meant they all got their own rooms.

Once Seungcheol was gone he checked the time, he had roughly 4 hours before he would have to head out.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I just don’t understand what this trend is supposed to be” you complained to Ciri for probably the 20th time over your video call. Apparently, there was a trend going around among streamers to recreate video games in real life. You hadn’t thought much of it when it first gained popularity, but now Ciri thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to join in on it. Her big plan was a two-part video where the two of you recreated iconic aspects of the Witcher 3 video game. You should have known she would want to do it, she already owned a Cirilla cosplay.

“It’s going to be fun” Ciri reminded you, drawing out the last syllable as she drew a fake scar along her face, effectively transforming herself into the iconic video game character.

“Come on, I even sent you the Yennefer cosplay and everything!” she exclaimed, using her make up brush to point at the camera accusingly. You rolled your eyes as you reached up to adjust the dark black wig that you now wore. To her credit, Ciri had sent you everything you would need to transform yourself into Yennefer of Vengerberg. How she somehow guessed your sizing right you would have no idea. Probably the Witcher powers.

“I wish we lived in the same city” you sighed, leaning your head back and looking up at the ceiling. Things would be so much easier if you and Ciri, and the other girls, didn’t live so far away from one another. But that was the price you paid for finding your friends online.

“Me too” Ciri said with a gentle sigh, setting her make up tools down and picking up her phone, her face coming into full view.

“I sent you the script, I won’t be able to stay on the call with you while we are filming because data rates are crazy, but I know you’ll do amazing” Ciri said with a reassuring smile. You would have to film all of this on your own, which was just a little bit intimidating. Ciri’s script mostly just directed you to do a lot of handwaving and she would add in the ‘magic’ elements later.

“Just find a good spot in the woods and it’ll be perfect” Ciri finished with a nod of her head. You sighed, straightening yourself up and looking down at your phone.

“I’ll call you later on when I’m finished to send you the video” you mumbled, pouting a little bit as you stood and picked up your phone.

“Good luck!” Ciri told you, waving a little bit before ending the call. Great, now you actually had to go do it…

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were lucky there was quite a bit of woods around where you lived, the problem was going to be trying to get to the woods without anyone seeing the ridiculous clothes you were wearing. You threw on a huge coat, effectively covering up most of the costume. After grabbing the bag with your equipment, you ventured outside, keeping your head down as you walked to avoid drawing attention.

Twenty minutes later you were standing in the middle of a beautiful calm forest. Now that you were here you questioned why you didn’t come out here more often. You couldn’t hear the loud noises that came with living in a bustling city and the air felt fresh on your face. Once you reached a small clearing by a river you laid your things down and took a deep breath, basking in the coolness of the air. Maybe this trend wouldn’t be so bad.

After setting up your camera in a place you were at least half sure wouldn’t result in it falling over, you walked into frame and took a deep breath. You briefly checked your phone to see what Ciri’s notes asked of you, before you began doing your best to follow directions. Your portion of the video wouldn’t be long, but you did re-film it 4 times to try and get your motions to be less stiff.

After forty-five minutes of waving your arms around, you walked back to your camera, picking it up before taking a seat on a nearby log. Reviewing the footage, you winced at how awkward it looked, you seriously hoped that Ciri could work some magic on this because you didn’t have it in you to film it again.

The forest around you was darkening as the day began to draw to a close, but you couldn’t bring yourself to head back right away. The forest was too peaceful and serene. Reaching up you pulled your wig off, stuffing it in your bag as you sighed with relief. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, focusing in on the sounds of nature around you. Maybe coming to the woods would become a weekly thing for you, like therapy.

A low deep growl broke you out of your trance, your eyes flying open and flickering around to find the source. Your heart hammered against your chest, and your whole body stiffened in fear. A few moments later a dark black wolf emerged from the trees, larger than any wolf you had seen on tv. You could vaguely see blood dripping from its muzzle, and its dark red eyes were focused right on you.

It paused at the edge of the clearing, its lips pulling back to reveal sharp blood-stained teeth. Your breath came quick as you leaned back, unsure if you should run or try and hide behind the log. Both seemed unhelpful in this current situation, but you were really low on options.

The wolf’s body tensed before springing toward you. Your hands instinctively grabbed whatever was nearest to you, which happened to be your very expensive camera, and threw it toward the wolf. This did nothing to deter the predator from its prey, and within seconds the beast was on you.

#seventeen werewolf #werewolf!seventeen #werewolf!mingyu #seventeen x reader #ultkpop #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #kim mingyu #Werewolf!AU #werewolf!svt #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #seventeen mingyu

[keitthen]

Hello✨ could you write something fluffy with Inumaki?🥺👉👈 maybe Reader is incredibly stressed due to high expectation on them and them not being able to exactly live up to their familie‘s expectation even though they try? And maybe just some comforting and cuddling with onigiri boy?🥰 thank you so much! I hope you have an amazing day!

─ comfort | ft. inumaki toge of 'jujutsu kaisen.'

✧ ─ pairings;

1. inumaki toge + reader

✧ ─ warnings;

neglect from parental responsibility, high stress, and extremely difficult expectations of behaviour.

✧ ─ librarian's notes;

hi there! welcome to the blog, and thank you for the request! i'll be glad to write your req, but since you haven't mentioned whether you wanted a scenario or headcanons, so i went ahead with the latter.

lmk if you wanted a scenario, i'll do my best to write it too. and yes, inumaki is best boy and i am glad that my first contribution to the jjk fandom is his.

Being the younger sibling of the clan's heir, everyone expected you to be strong and mighty just like them.

They've always had expectations ─ on the way you speak, the way you eat, the way you behave, the way you fight, and most importantly ─ on how strong your powers are.

Your parents placed the highest of them, wanting you to follow in the footsteps of the child that they were oh so proud of.

They didn't want you to be you, they wanted you to be a second copy of your sibling.

So you tried. Tried hard to reach up to their immensely difficulty expectations. Gave up nights of sleep, all your free time and left the time to eat, all to train more, study more and more.

And yet, according to your parents, it wasn't enough.

You'd never be enough. You could never be the child they were proud of.

You knew the burdens your sibling carried because of their title as the heir, but sometimes, you wished. Wished that it was you in their place, having all of your parents' affection, and strong powers.

Yet, life is never fair, is it? You'd never be them. No matter how much you tried, your clan would never accept it as enough. They always wanted more.

Coming back home to the dorms after another meeting with your parents and the elders of the clan, you were exhausted.

Exhausted of all the mean words they tell you ─ exhausted of the burdens, and tired of always working away with no result nor reward.

Placing your things on the only desk in your room, you flopped on to your bed, placing a hand to block out the sun that fluttered through the baby blue curtains that decorated the window by your bed.

The light was too bright, and all you wanted was to rest. You were nearly falling asleep, when a knock on your door resounded in the hallway outside.

Somehow bringing yourself to get up, you sluggishly made your way to the door, ready to chew out the person who dared to disturb your slumber, when you're greeted by a familiar mop of white hair that you adore so much.

It's Inumaki.

Turning around, you make your way back, as he comes in and shuts the door behind him.

Lying down again, you feel yourself become even more tired, as yoir eyes begin to grow heavy again. Your body wants to rest, but your mind doesn't ─ it wants to remind you of yoir failures, that you were considered a disappointment.

Feeling a gentle touch move your hand away from your face, you look up to see Inumaki peering down at your tired form.

What's wrong?, he silently asks through his eyes. Being with him long enough has allowed you to understand him even without words.

“It's nothing”, you say, not wanting to talk about it. Just thinking about it makes you sick.

Seating himself on your bed, he slips a hand underneath you, and pulls you up to him, and holds you in a tight embrace.

Your parents again?, he silently questions again. When you nod at his question, he takes you in an tighter embrace, feeling anger slowly boil inside him.

He places a soft kiss on your forehead, and lets you down on the bed again, and rushes out of your door.

Sighing, you stretch out, only to find a sticky note stuck to your hand.

BRB. Just getting some of your favourite snacks and my laptop so we can watch a movie.

Letting a small smile come on to your face, your attention is drawn away to the loud noise near your door. There, you see a walking stack of snacks, and are almost ready to throw something at it ─ wait, that's Inumaki.

He quickly makes his way over, and drops all of the snacks near you, and gestures you to pick whatever you want. When you're done choosing, he sets up his laptop and pulls you into a back hug.

Holding out his hand towards the device, he silently asks you to pick the movie, too. When you find the one you want to watch, he clicks on it, watching as the introduction comes to life on the screen.

He somehow manages to pull you even closer, and wraps your blanket around the two of you.

While you watch the movie as you snack, he takes his time to place feather light kisses on your face ─ it's his own way of comforting you, and slowly, you feel yourself relax in his hold.

As much as he wishes that he can comfort you with words, he cannot, so he does what he does best ─ through actions. All it takes is him holding you for all your negative feelings to go away.

Feeling the exhasution set in again, your eyes begin to droop, wanting to sleep, but you try to stay awake for him.

He notices, and holds you in a position where it's comfortable for you to sleep.

“Shake”, he says, telling you that it's okay for you to sleep.

Little by little, slumber takes over your being, and Inumaki's soft, loving smile is the last thing you see. As sleep slowly lulls you into its gentle arms, you think to yourself one last thing.

I'll be okay. Everything's going to be alright, as long as you're here.

What you don't know, is that you said them out loud ─ effectively surprising the boy. As he comes back to his self again, he smiles even wider, placing another kiss on your face, and mutters something to himself so softly, no one else could hear it unless they paid attention.

I'll be here for you as long as you want me to.

✦ ─ librarian's other notes;

and done! i hope you liked it! once again, thank you for the request, nonnie!

love,

ria.

© 2021 @the-diabolikal-otaku. do not plagarise or repost.

#ria writes #inumaki toge #jjk inumaki #inumaki x reader #request #thank you for the req! #inumaki headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #jjk #jjk anime #jjk manga #ria loves you! #<3

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track seven

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

*contains smut*

When Nicole died, Indiana convinced herself that someone was holding down a fast forward button on her life. Some greater power with a universal remote, carelessly keeping a finger shoved down on the little button with the double arrows, with no regard to the fleeting few days she had left with her most important person.

History seemed to be repeating itself, with the best physical representation being the very quickly evolving tiny homes.

The first thing on Grayson’s agenda when they’d made it back to NYC was to decorate the property for Halloween. It hadn’t seemed like the most sound plan to Indy, considering last time they were out in the field it was just raw building materials, a platform and lots of grass. But when she climbed off the back of the quad, away from Grayson’s warmth and into the chilly air, she was standing in front of a house, or at least the bones of one, with the beginnings of the loft and stairs formed inside. It wasn’t polished yet - in fact, there wasn’t even a front door to hang the spider wreath that he had bought at Home Depot. But there was a house, and it stood as a reminder that time was passing quickly.

Despite how over the top the Dolan’s were about it, Halloween was a blink. Ethan was still in California, spending a few more days with Eden, but they facetimed in their costumes anyways - Indy had been convinced into dressing up at the last minute, which resulted in a witch costume that consisted of black leggings and a black bodysuit, which got covered up by a spare hoodie of Grayson’s early in the evening, brought on by the ever-dropping Jersey temperatures. But they celebrated with Lisa, and with E squared across the miles with a bonfire and too many pieces of candy, and Indy realized at the end of the night that it was the first holiday she’d had with family in years. It filled a vacant room in a back hallway of her heart that she didn’t realize had been abandoned, and as soon as the calendar turned to November, she was determined.

“Thanksgiving. Me, you, Lisa, Ethan, Eden, Cam, Charlie and Devin. Thoughts, opinions?”

Grayson quirked an eyebrow from the other side of the couch, face lit by his laptop screen.

“Vegan thanksgiving?”

She nudged him in the side with her foot, getting the perfect angle from where she was laying to tickle him. “Nah, we’re gonna cook a whole meal that 25% of the participants can’t eat. Sounds like the holiday of dreams.”

He poked her with a toe. “Yeah, that sounds good to me. Might have to find an extra table at Ma’s though.”

“I can plan out a menu, make sure everyone brings something. Charlie can bring plates, for all our sakes.”

“Then Ethan can bring cups, cause god knows he doesn’t know what the fuck to do in a kitchen. And I can do the menu, you’ve got enough on your plate.”

“It’s not that bad this week,” she countered, but before she could say anything else he’d picked up her planner, looking at all the little color coordinated blocks that she’d drawn out. Grayson had never had a planner before, much less an hourly one, and it stressed him out a bit just to see how little time she didn’t have allotted to something. His finger moved over a little block in dark blue, a tiny scribble inside it - time with g :).

“You block out time for us to hang out?”

“I block out time to do just about everything but pee,” she laughed, keeping her eyes on her textbook as he continued to look through her pages.

“You haven’t peed in like… 3 hours. Drink your water.”

She stuck her tongue out but did as he asked, watching the way he found something on the page and frowned, eyebrows creasing across his forehead.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He answered it too quickly, and it was her turn to frown.

“Babe. What is it?”

“It just says, uh, ‘deposit from Kenneth’. Who’s Kenneth?”

Her breathing stopped for a moment. She hadn’t heard that name said aloud in years.

“Oh um. That’s my dad. Kenneth Cross.”

He switched from realization to guilt in an instant, flipping the planner shut. Grayson wasn’t privy to much information about Indiana’s father, but he didn’t need much to know that the relationship wasn’t great.

“Shit, Dee, sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

She closed her textbook, sitting it aside with a sigh. Sitting up, she crossed her legs on the couch, a bid to get a little closer to him.

“No, it’s okay. We probably should have talked about it by now anyways. What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me.” He offered her his hand, knowing she liked to toy with her fingers when she talked, hoping it would help.

“Well. He wasn’t always a shit head. Actually, he used to be a pretty good dad. When Charlie and I were growing up, he was always there. He coached Charlie’s basketball team, then mine. He helped mom with dinner, we all went on vacation together. I mean, I had a good childhood, I really did. But things changed when mom got sick.”

“How long was she sick?”

“Six months. It took her fast, much faster than usual with her stage and her type. I thought my dad would step up, but he didn’t. He shut down. And I get that, it was hard, but we needed him and he just… wasn’t there. Charlie had to take her to appointments because I couldn’t drive yet. He stayed at home and worked, and drank, and then drank some more and called it work. He never talked about mom, never even admitted to himself she was sick I don’t think. So Charlie and I did our best, and we stayed with her as much as we could, especially towards the end. I’d ride the subway out of the city to get to school cause I slept at the hospital most nights. And I guess Charlie and I didn’t realize, but he was working on selling the house while we were doing all that, before she was even fucking gone. So, when she did go, all of a sudden she was gone, and my house was gone, and Charlie was going to school, so it was just me and him.

“We moved into a smaller house. He didn’t talk to me. He was a shell without my mom. And I thought it would get better but it didn’t. So, I taught myself how to be okay without him, and without my mom… without anyone. I think he realized it too, and some part of him felt bad. But he knew he couldn’t fix it. So, the summer before college, he said he’d pay for wherever I wanted to live for school. I couldn’t swing rent on a Jet’s salary, and I wanted to get out of his house, so I agreed. I moved in here freshman year, and we haven’t seen each other since. Haven’t even talked on the phone really. He deposits rent in my account each month, and as soon as I can get enough money to not have him do that, I’m going to tell him to stop. I don’t want him to think I need him, for anything.”

Indy looked up for the first time since her story started, and she sucked in a breath at the sight of Grayson’s watery eyes. He blinked it away and cleared his throat, but the way he opened his arms up told a different story.

“I don’t like hating him. But I don’t know how to forgive him either.”

“C’mere,” he mumbled, waiting for her to readjust and climb on top of him. His arms wrapped around her tightly, like he wanted to press her into him and make her a part of him.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that with your mom like that, I can’t imagine.”

Indy lifted her head and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Yes you can.”

The knot in his throat grew, and he kissed her head when she relaxed against him again. He let the silence settle for a few minutes, tracing a heart against her back and pressing his lips into her hair over and over.

“I had my mom though. She helped us through the entire thing. And I had Ethan, and Cam. And I know you had Charlie, but thinking about you having to do that without a parent.” He shook his head. “I hate it. Not to mention the rest of the bullshit he’s probably put you through that you’re too nice to tell me about.”

It was her turn to get teary.  

“Well, I’m okay now. I made it, and so did you.”

He ran a thumb over her cheek with a soft smile.

“Wish you didn’t have to make it through it at all.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Grayson shifted then, rolled them over to the side so Indy was between him and the back of the couch, coiling his arms around her tightly, shifting her up enough for him to kiss her. He let his hand roam down her back, over her ass, grabbing and moving until her leg slotted above his.

“I love you,” he said, hoping she knew just how much. She moved her hand from his cheek, let her arm wrap around him, trapping him closer to her.

“Love you more.”

He shook his head at her, making her laugh against his skin.

“You don’t have a nap written in your schedule, am I gonna screw it all up?”

“I can shift things. I’m flexible.”

He laughed again, a beautiful sound that bounced off the walls of the apartment and filled the space. Indy kept her leg wrapped around him, holding him close and finding his lips with hers again, breathing him in - her favorite distraction.

“Flexible hm? How flexible?” His voice had dropped slightly, throat gruff.

She knew they weren’t going to sleep, so she gave in, dipping down to kiss along his neck, taking charge a bit more than usual.

“You know, I think we might be the only couple who can switch from parental trauma to horny within 60 seconds,” she mused, smiling at the rumbling laugh it got out of him.

“Maybe we’re just built different.”

“Hate that,” Indy mumbled, moving back up to kiss him again. He wasted no time in coaxing her shirt off, sitting them up with her in his lap so he could do the same to his own, getting her bra off quickly after his own sweatshirt was gone. There was no better feeling than her skin against his, he was sure. Her hand landed on the middle of his chest and she hummed, smiling.

“You didn’t shave your chest hair.”

He pulled back a bit with an incredulous look. He hadn't even thought about it, but she was right. “You noticed that?”

“I notice everything about you. You’re my favorite thing to study,” she smiled, and his heart melted in his chest. The only way he knew to respond was to pull her back to him. In a bed, he would have rolled them over, climbed above her, but the couch limited him and he was at her mercy for the time being.

She didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, and between the slow roll of her hips and the kisses she pressed along a path from his jaw to his collarbone, he was very much wishing she would pick up the pace. His hands slid down to her hips, pressing her down against him in a bid for friction.

“Easy,” Indy laughed his favorite laugh, the breathy one that seemed like an afterthought. “If I’m gonna rearrange my schedule, I get to set the pace.”

“Well then, take it away,” he chuckled, but it faded into more of a groan when she nipped at his shoulder, letting her hands run down his sides. She left goosebumps in the wake of her nails, and he couldn’t help but shudder as she toyed with the waistband of his sweats for a moment, like she was playing a game. Grayson Dolan wasn’t used to being at the whim of anyone, and it was liberating in a way that had his nerves buzzing.

Indiana was perhaps enjoying herself a bit too much. Usually, she was so overwhelmed by him that she didn’t have time to really take him in. So, she soaked up the opportunity of having him displayed out for her, tracing her fingers over every plane of him - the v of his hips, the muscles over his ribs. Down his arms, back up to his shoulders, running her thumbs over his scruff as she cupped his face. When she made it back down to his abs she felt them flex under her hands, his hips bucking up just barely against hers.

“Baby.” His tone was stern, and she played into a bit, looking at him as innocently as she could.

“Hmmm?”

“You’re teasing.”

“I’m admiring.”

“Okay, then you’re cheesy and you’re teasing.”

“Guilty as charged,” she murmured, shrugging a bit.

Bad move.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, ensuring he didn’t lose his grip as he planted a foot on the floor and rose up just enough to roll them, getting her underneath him on the couch. It happened so fast that all she could do was gasp, eyes wide as she stared up at him, the blues bright with shock.

“Now, where were we.”

His cockiness was back in full swing, but he paused at the pout that came over Indy’s face.

“What?”

“I kinda liked being up there,” she said, running her hands along his arms as he held himself up above her.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna switch again?”

“Kinda.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. Pants off, then we switch.”

“Deal.”

He stood up first, taking her hand and pulling her up to her feet. They shimmied out of the pants and underwear quickly, leaving them in a pile on the rug in a rush to get back to each other. The mood shifted yet again when he guided her onto his lap as he sat down, lighthearted and fun as she got herself settled. Grayson had never had lighthearted sex before he met Indiana Cross. It was always scratching an itch, even when it was with people he was in a relationship with. She seemed to unlock another side of him, one that made it so much more fun to have her above him, struggling to keep her hair out of her face and get close enough to him at the same time. He wasn’t sure how she managed to be adorable and sexy at the same time, but when she finally got herself lined up and began to sink down onto him, he didn’t have the brain power left to care.

“Shit Dee,” he groaned, using every bit of self control he had to keep his hips still, letting her set her agonizingly slow pace.

She whimpered with every inch that she moved down, finally taking all of him somehow, arching her back for a moment before she caved, leaning forward onto his chest, burying her face in his neck.

He started as slow as his body would let him, groaning as she started to grind her hips, searching out an angle that kept the pressure building. It took a moment, like it always did when they tried a new position, but when she found it Grayson knew by the way her nails dug into his shoulders. He grabbed her hips to hold her there, memorizing the way their bodies fit together so he could get right back to that same spot over and over again.

“Gray,” she whimpered into his ear, bracing her forearms on his shoulders as he chased her high for her, determined to have her shaking. All she could do was moan and hold on as he thrusted into her faster with a renewed purpose, only stopping when she clenched so hard that he could barely move.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Indy whined, every muscle in her body tightening down in defense of how overwhelmed she suddenly felt, breath catching in her throat as her orgasm ripped through her. His arms coiled around her back as if he was trying to hold her together as she shook, and he chased the last of his high, lifting her off of him at the last possible second before he came, white streaks landing on his torso. He knew it would be a mess and he didn’t care - he pressed her back to him, wrapping her up for a moment in his arms and letting the two of them come down.

“Woah. Good woah,” Indy mumbled, pressing kisses to his neck where she could reach.

“I second your good woah.”

“Good.”

“Do you have time in your flexible schedule for a shower? I got you all sticky.”

She sat up and pretended to ponder it for a moment, making a show of quirking her eyebrow just to make him laugh. “I suppose I could pencil it in. C’mon.”

She climbed off him and took his hand, leading him to her bathroom with a smile. They paused in front of the mirror for a moment, and it was the first time in a long time that Indy felt happy to be looking in one. But still, she turned around and looked up at her boyfriend - he looked better in real life than in his reflection anyways.

“You know, if you play your cards right, you might just win yourself a round two.”

That was all it took for him to pick her up so fast she squealed, carrying her behind the privacy of the shower curtain for a second taste.

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

Bekah’s hands were always cold, but they felt like ice cubes in Indy’s hands. She rubbed along her skin in a bid to warm her up, eyes wandering over to Grayson.

“She’s pale,” he murmured, keeping his distance as he stood at the end of the bed. The sight of her so still in her hospital bed was unsettling. He had expected their first visit back to be filled with smiles, and ‘I miss you’s’, stories of California and her recovery.

Instead, they’d walked into Bekah’s room to find her fast asleep underneath her Halloween blanket, brows furrowed in what he hoped was concern and not pain.

“Her body is probably just trying to get used to the new cells. Not making enough blood, she’s probably up for another transfusion soon.”

“How do you know?”

Indy nodded towards what Grayson had assumed was an IV pole - he supposed it was, but instead of the usual bags of clear or milky liquid, there were just empty hooks.

“An hour.”

Bekah’s voice was dry and horse, and although it was quiet, it made both of them jump.

“Hey! How’re you feeling?” Indy immediately perked up, painting that smile across her face that Grayson had started to associate with everything hospital, from the sounds to the smell of bleach.

“Tired. My next transfusion is in an hour.”

“Did the doctor say anything about your counts?”

Bekah looked at her and rolled her eyes, wincing as she tried to sit up in bed. Indy reached to help her but she held a hand up.

“I have a transfusion in an hour, you tell me what my counts are,” she muttered, sitting up for a moment before she let out a sigh and put her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Beks,” Grayson said.

“No, it’s not. You all came to see me and I’m being an asshole.”

“No one is nice when they don’t feel good,” Gray offered, moving to the other side of the bed and resting a hand on her shoulder. It was a simple gesture, a small attempt at consoling, but it was too much for Bekah. The sniffles turned into broken sobs that shook her entire body so hard it looked like she would come apart.

“I’m just tired of this. I’m tired.”

There wasn’t an adequate response to give, so the room filled with silence apart from her sobs as they did their best to hold her together, wrapping their arms around her, around each other. Indy’s eyes were red by the time Bekah’s cries quieted, and Grayson scrambled to come up with something, anything, to lighten the mood.

“Well, if we have an hour, that means we have time for an episode of something. Didn’t you say you were watching Vampire Diaries while we were gone?”

Bekah nodded, laying back against the pillows.

“Then let’s watch one and just chill. Save your energy.”

He set it up quickly, turning off the lights and pulling his chair over to the side of her bed as it started to play. When he looked over, there was just enough light to see that Bekah had reached for Indy’s hand. And to his surprise, she reached for his too. He took it, trying to ignore the way his throat tightened at the feeling of her squeezing weakly - a silent thank you as the episode began to play.

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

The first two weeks of November passed with unrelenting speed. Indiana buried herself in her school work, carving out what she could for quality time for Grayson, even if it was just going out to Jersey with him for a movie night that ended with her asleep on his lap before the opening scene was done. He didn’t mind - he just liked having her around, watching her get closer with Ethan and his mom, knowing she was safe because she was there with him. It was hard to help someone who was so determined on being independent, but he did what he could and she did the same, spending what little time she had encouraging him and supporting him.

Grayson had his own work to focus on, and it filled the time nicely as they worked to get their brands up and running through the holidays, plus the task of finalizing the plans for the details of the tiny homes. Somehow, it was already the week of Thanksgiving before he stopped to take a breath, which he found in the backyard with his brother the day before the holiday.

“Listen. I can make rolls. I can’t fuck that up.”

“Ethan, you could fuck anything up, including rolls. Just get cups. And things to put in the cups.”

“Fuck you,” Ethan grumbled, tossing the football a bit harder than necessary across the back lot. Grayson wished he’d put on gloves, but

“When is evil coming in?”

“She lands tonight, gotta go pick her up at 10:30. Is Indy staying out here tonight too?”

“No, I’m staying at her place, her sister and her boyfriend fly in tomorrow morning so we gotta pick them up. You’re picking up Cam tonight too right?”

“Yeah. Damn, I feel like dad,” Ethan laughed, a puff of white in the cold air.

Grayson waited for him to elaborate, throwing the ball back.

“He was always the chauffeur. I mean jesus, how many times do you think he picked us up from the airport when we came home?”

“True, he fucking hated that drive too. Complained about it the whole time, every time.”

“Like you don’t hate driving into the city.”

Grayson quirked an eyebrow at him, tossing the ball a bit harder, trying to put a different spin on it.

“Okay, fine, used to hate it. Now you just like it cause you get laid at the end of it.”

“True,” Gray grinned. “That makes me sound like a douchebag though.”

“You are a douchebag.”

“We’re identical twins, so if I’m a douchebag you’re a douchebag by association,” Grayson said.

“True. You aren’t a douchebag when you’re around Indiana, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, she wouldn’t put up with that shit.”

“You are a simp though.”

“Says you.”

“I never said I wasn’t.” Ethan shrugged, offering up a smile as he threw. “Eden really likes her by the way. Says they’d be great sister-in-laws in the future. I told her to chill with that shit though.”

Grayson missed the ball, not even bothering to watch it bounce away on the ground.

“Why?”

“Well, you said you were never going to ask her to leave, or move or whatever. And you live in LA, we live in LA, so... I mean, being here this long is just because of the tiny houses. And I know you, you can’t do long distance bro, you’re too physical.”

“Oh fuck you, I can survive without getting my dick wet if it means being with somebody I love.”

“That’s not what I fucking meant, I mean you’re touchy, and you need to be close to the people you love. Like physically close, as in in the same room, in the same house at least. That’s why I haven’t said shit about you being at her place every night of the week. I get it Gray, it’s how you are. But that shit won’t work when you’re on the other side of the country, and I know you aren’t going to ask her to fly out there to see you after how bad those flights were for her. And I love you, and I’m gonna support you, but you can’t fly home every weekend either. We have businesses, we have shit to do. Work.”

“I know that, I’m not stupid.”

“And it makes me feel like a shit brother but you always tell me that I’m supposed to keep you on track, so if that means being the bad guy then that means being the bad guy.”

“E I know.”

“I’m not saying you have to like break up with her or anything but, I just, I think it’s gonna be hard. Like really really hard.”

“Ethan. I know.”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt, that’s all.”

“Yeah. I get it. But can you just drop it for two fucking seconds? It’s almost Thanksgiving, let’s just focus on that. Besides, you’re the one who said to wait to cross the bridge when we come to it,” Grayson huffed.

“It’s the last week of November almost. Hate to break it to you, but the bridge is right in front of you.”

The thought made his stomach drop.

“Let’s go inside. S’cold.”

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

It felt unnatural to have her sister in the back seat, but that’s where Charlie climbed in after Grayson had helped them load their minimal luggage into the back of the car and made his introductions. They’d borrowed Lisa’s SUV for Devin’s sake, knowing that his long legs would be cramped in the backseat of anything, especially the truck.

“How was your flight?” Indy turned almost fully in her seat, trying to soak in every minute she had with her sister - they had to fly out bright and early the next morning.

“Bumpy,” Charlie laughed, picking at her nails in her lap. Indy frowned when she noticed - it was her nervous tick.

“Devin I have no idea how you fit in coach bro, I barely fit and I’m tiny compared to you,” Grayson chimed in, checking over his shoulder as he pulled out of the pick up lane.

“It’s a struggle my man, it’s a struggle. But I don’t think anyone in their right mind would look at you and call you tiny. You’ve got me beat in every department but leg length.”

“Hey, if you’re actually serious about growing muscle I can throw together a workout for you while you’re here.”

“For real? That would be sick bro, I could really use the help.”

Indy held back her laugh at how they both slipped into bro mode so quickly, and Charlie seemed to be on the same page as she snickered. Eventually conversation gave way to music, Indy proud of herself for finding a perfect 2000’s throwback playlist that had everyone singing and bouncing around in their seats. By the time they made it to the house, they were all a bit breathless and full of nostalgia.

When they climbed out onto the gravel, Charlie stuck close to her sister.

“Lisa is mom. And Ethan is the twin, Eden is the sister, Cameron is the girlfriend?”

“Cameron is sister, Eden is girlfriend,” Indy laughed. “Thank god you asked.”

Charlie gave a bit of a chuckle, and Indy nudged her.

“They’re good people Char. Don’t worry, they’ll love you.”

“I just… haven’t done this in a while.”

She wrapped her arm around her older sister’s shoulders as they approached the house, squeezing her lightly.

“I know sis. I know.”

Inside, Eden was trying to be subtle as she peeked through the blinds on the windows, watching the whole crew approach.

“They’re here! Come to the door, they’re here!”

“Babe, that’s creepy. Just come sit down,” Ethan laughed, waiting for Cameron to make her next move in chess.

“It’s not creepy, it’s friendly,” she countered, but she stood back from the door at the last moment to try to make it less intimidating.

“Hey guys!” Grayson’s voice boomed loud through the house as soon as he opened the door, his excitement obvious. Cam and Ethan abandoned their chess game for a moment, and Lisa came from the kitchen with a warm smile.

Indiana officially met Cameron for the first time, happy that she went in for the hug. Lisa hugged everyone, making everyone laugh when she looked up at Devin and said “my god you’re tall.”

Once everyone had met everyone, Lisa clapped her hands.

“Alright, let’s get to work!”

The Dolan’s did things in stations it seemed, which pleased Indy’s organizational side that usually went a bit crazy around the holidays. Lisa was nice enough to assign each couple a dish to work on, which of course became a competition, like everything seemed to. Indy wasn’t sure how they were going to truly compare E squared’s vegan stuffing to Charlie and Devin’s vegan mac and cheese, but she didn’t care.

Because Grayson was beaming beside her as they worked on peeling potatoes over the trash can, and everywhere she looked she saw smiles. Devin was swaying his hips to the music while Charlie tried to copy him, just a blip behind the beat. Ethan and Eden raced to see who could chop vegetables quicker until Lisa told them to slow down so someone didn’t end up needing stitches.

LIsa was the master of the operation, working on three different things at once, waving off Indy’s offer of help.

“I used to feed all three of them and their dad. Cooking for an army is second nature,” she teased, but that familiar tone was in her voice that tugged at Indy’s heart. Ethan eventually connected to the speakers and shuffled a playlist filled with everything, from Elton John to Cudi. Grayson got vegan butter on his shirt at one point while dancing too hard, and when Indy laughed he swiped it off with a finger and smeared it on her nose. The kitchen got so hot they cracked a window, with the revolving door of the oven trying to handle all the dishes and all the bodies close together.

By 2pm, everyone took turns carrying everything into the dining room to the massive which Cameron had decorated. Everyone took their places at the table, with LIsa at the head, Grayson and Ethan beside her with the girls beside them, and Charlie beside Indy, Devin beside Eden, who had seemed to hit it off with him in their short few hours of knowing each other, and Cam at the other head.

“Before we start, I think we should all go around and share something that we’re thankful for,” Lisa proposed. “I’ll start. I’m very thankful for my health, and for my family. For my wonderful daughter, and my amazing boys, and my husband, who I love and who watches over us every day.”

She could only speak for herself, but it was a safe bet that everyone’s throats tightened. Ethan cleared his before he spoke.

“I’m thankful for my family, for the quality time we get to spend together. For my brother’s ability to deal with my ass and his help in chasing our dreams and making that shit happen. And for Eden, because… well just because.”

Eden laid her head against his shoulder for a moment before she spoke up.

“I’m thankful for my dream job, and getting to do something I love every day. I’m thankful for Ethan, for loving me and keeping me sane. And I’m thankful for all of you, especially you Lisa, for welcoming me into the family.”

“I’m thankful to be here, to meet new people and get to eat some awesome food. Thank you, for inviting us in and sharing your holiday with us,” Devin said, polite as ever.

“I’m thankful for the wine,” Cam grinned, sipping from her glass quickly just to get an eye roll out of her mom. “And for all of you, and good food, and for family. Charlie?”

Charlie threw Indy a nervous glance before she spoke.

“I’m thankful for my sister, and my boyfriend, who always keep me together and on track, and who make me laugh. And I’m thankful for new friends, and good food.”

Indy had been so intent on listening to everyone else that she hadn’t even thought of her own response.

“I’m thankful for my sister, and for all of you guys, who have been so kind to me. I’m thankful for this guy,” she bumped Grayson’s shoulder. “For loving me, and supporting me in everything I do. And, I’m thankful for the years I had with my mom. I wish she could be here today, but I know she’s up there watching, and she’s thankful that I have you guys.”

She ignored the way her eyes stung, turning to Grayson, who squeezed her thigh under the table.

“I’m thankful for my family, and for the way that dad guided us to be who we are today - all of us Dolan’s. And I’m thankful for Indy for showing me what strength and determination looks like. And for everyone here, because we’re all family. I love you guys.”

The weight of his words hung in the air for a moment as everyone soaked them in.

“Alright, dig in!” Lisa broke the silence, reaching for the rolls.

Grayson squeezed Indy’s thigh once, tracing a little heart with his index finger when she leaned over to kiss his cheek before turning back to the table. They all ate until their plates were clear, almost all of them heading back in for seconds. The final verdict was that the vegan mac and cheese was the winner of the side dish competition, much to the pride of Devin. The evening settled into various activities, from Grayson teaching Devin proper pull up form to Charlie letting Eden take test shots on her camera. Indy mostly watched from the sidelines, happy to see all the people she loved all together in one place.

Her family.

“Thank you for this.” Lisa’s voice startled her a bit, but she relaxed when the older woman moved to stand beside her.

“I should be thanking you!”

“No. We didn’t do Thanksgiving last year. Everything was still too… raw, I suppose. Everyone is here because you asked them to be. So, thank you, truly.”

The tears that Indy had been fighting all day finally found their place on her cheeks, and she sniffled through a laugh when Lisa hugged her.

“Well, thanks for sharing your family.”

“It’s not sharing if you’re a part of it my dear.”

She pulled her close for a hug before the two of them folded themselves into the mix, running around in the cold air of the backyard and enjoying each other’s company as the night drew to a close. They opted for pie and vegan ice cream to finish off the night, and Charlie insisted they take some pictures before the food comas took over. She’d thought ahead enough to bring a tripod, and she sat it up in the living room, making sure every couple got a few that they liked, and that they all got one together. Lisa requested one of just her kids where they of course all goofed off enough to annoy her. Charlie would send them all in the next few days, Indy’s favorite being the one of her on Grayson’s back, wrapped around to kiss his cheek while he grinned with his eyes squeezed shut. It became her lock screen as soon as she saved it, and Lisa went on to get the family one framed, as well as the one of all of them together too, both beside each other on the mantel held with equal importance.

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

The Thanksgiving leftovers only lasted two days in Indy’s fridge. With the stress of preparing for four cumulative finals, she didn’t have time to cook anything, and the microwaveable vegan leftovers were a god send. So was Grayson, who stayed by her side each day as she studied, quietly keeping himself busy with work until she needed him. It was a nice co-existence, both of them understanding the need for quiet but enjoying each other’s presence nonetheless. By Wednesday, she was only left with one last final, though it was her hardest, and she couldn’t convince herself that she’d prepared enough despite pulling multiple all nighters. He quizzed her when she asked, even though he butchered half the pronunciations. His commentary was the comedic relief she needed to get through it though, and she was more than grateful that he was there.

“Last set, and then you need to take a break.”

“But-”

“No buts. Unless you’re talking gluteus maximus.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes. “Baby you’ve been going non stop for 4 hours now.”

“Okay fine, hit me with it.”

“Soleus.” She pointed to the side of his calf. “Extensor carpi ulnaris.” The outer side of his forearm. “Zygomaticus major.” His cheek. “Iliopsoas.” The inside of his thigh.

“Dee, you know these. You literally don’t even have to think about it, you know them.”

She shook her head before he even finished his sentence. “I need more practice.”

“The only thing you need more of is sleep,” he countered. “C’mon, we’re both exhausted, let’s just take a nap.”

“Once we finish the set, then we can.”

“Fine. Serratus anterior.”

She tickled his ribs, making him squirm away from her.

“Biceps femoris.” She heaved his leg up from where it was resting on the couch, pointing to a spot in the middle of the back of his thigh.

“Teres major.” It was a reach, but she made it around to the back of his armpit.

“Teres minor.” She poked the same spot, just a bit harder.

“Okay, ouch, don’t abuse my teres. Uh, gastrocnemius.” She was gentler on his calf.

They went through the rest of the stack like that, with Grayson doing his best to say them correctly while Indy poked and prodded.  

As soon as he flipped the last card he yawned, sitting the stack aside and leaning forward to grab her, dragging her on top of him and nuzzling his nose into her hair. Indy sighed and relaxed into him, his warmth and the weight of his arms settling her body down. She could remember the days where she’d always wanted something as simple as this, just laying on her couch with someone to hold, and she tried to soak it in.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you more,” Grayson countered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His hands moved under her shirt over her back, finding space.

R-E-L-A-X

“Can’t. My mind won’t stop.”

“Well, I’d offer to sing to you or some shit, but your ears would probably bleed,” he chuckled.

“S’okay. I’ll just dream about muscles or something. Innervations.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Oh yeah, riveting stuff.”

She wiggled around to get comfortable, her cheek squished against his chest as he rubbed her back.

“Sleep, have your little anatomy dreams,” he teased, reaching over the back of the couch for a blanket to drape over the two of them.

It took a little while, but she managed to drift off to the soothing sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his fingers against her skin.

And she dreamed.

Indiana was in a hallway. White, smooth walls with doorways that stood black and brooding on either side. Her stomach turned a bit, unease washing through her veins as she took a few small steps forward, moving to peek past one of the frames.

“Don’t sweetheart.”

Her head shot up. At the end of the hall was Nicole. She looked young, even younger than Indy’s last memories of her. Youthful, and full of life, her blonde hair familiar as it hung down and framed her face.

“Mom.”

“Hi my love.”

Indiana ran. She barreled past the doors, not even giving them a second thought as she finally, finally landed in her mother’s arms. The tears were inevitable, but she didn’t care that she shook as Nicole held her, the way only a mom could. Held her body, but held her soul.

“Where have you been? Where’d you go?”

“I’ve been here the whole time. Right here with you.”

“I miss you. I miss you so much.”

“I know. But I’m here.”

She pulled back, letting her mom brush her hair behind her ear the way she always used to when it fell into her eyes.

“Look at you. You’re all grown up. Look at those beautiful eyes. So blue.”

“Just like yours,” Indy said.

“Just like mine.”

A part of her knew that she was dreaming. She knew her mother was gone, that this wasn’t real. But her heart refused to accept it, because she could feel her mother’s skin, hear her voice, feel her like she hadn’t been able to in so long. So she just stared. Tried to memorize every part of her face, every smile line, every freckle. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but Nicole was the one to break the silence.

“Baby. I need you to be careful.”

Indy frowned. “Careful?”

“With your heart. I need you to be careful with your heart, with my heart.”

“Momma what do you mean?”

Nicole looked to the left. Indy followed her gaze, surprised to see that the light was on in the doorway.

The doorway to Bekah’s room.

“Beks,” she breathed. Her feet automatically moved, taking her into the room until Nicole’s arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her back.

“Indiana,” Nicole cautioned. “No.”

“No, no Mom it’s okay, she’s getting better, see? Look, she’s fine.”

She pushed forward, but Nicole’s grip only tightened.

“No baby. Look.”

Indy listened. And she watched. Watched Bekah try to sit up in her bed. She was probably calling for Jessica, or Emily, or maybe even Indy. Her mouth opened, and no sound came out, her eyes going wide for a moment before she fell back against the pillows, chest rising too fast, too shallow. Indy knew what that meant.

“No. NO! Beks! Bekah!”

“Shhhhh baby, there’s nothing you can do, Indiana stop, there’s nothing you can do.”

“BEKAH!” She cried anyways, fighting her mother’s grip as she watched the monitors light up, heard their mocking monotone calls as they alarmed. Nurses appeared, and Indy watched them do all the right things, give all the right medicine.

She didn’t wake up.

“No, no no no no,” Indy wailed, thrashing in her mother’s arms.

“Indiana. Indiana. Dee!”

She was back in her living room, and Grayson was scared.

“Wha-” she looked around, bewildered. She was sitting up, which disoriented her a bit, though she was with it enough to realize she was still in Grayson’s lap.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re safe,” Grayson said, eyes still wide. He pushed her hair back out of her face as she looked down, only then realizing that she’d balled up his shirt in her hands. She let go, looking at the disheveled fabric, which was also splotched with dark spots.

“I’m- sorry, I don’t… I uh… I had a nightmare. Sorry.”

“It’s okay baby,” Grayson murmured. “You okay?”

Those two words brought on a whole other wave of tears, and she crumpled into him, shaking her head as she cried.

It took him by surprise for a moment - he knew she didn’t like to cry, and he’d never really seen her so upset. So he took a moment to process, and then he lifted her arms up over his shoulders, coiling his own around her and squeezing her to him as tight as he could without crushing her. He didn’t speak. He just held her, let her get it out of her system, whatever it was.

When her sobs turned to sniffles and his shirt was fully soaked through on the shoulder, he spoke up.

“What do you need? What can I do?”

She pulled back from him, frame seeming even smaller somehow as she sat there.

“Can you go check on Bekah? I know it’s Wednesday, and I know we’re going to tomorrow but… you don’t have to, I just, I know she’s alone up there, but I have so much work to do, and-”

“I can go. I’ll go,” he said. The pieces fell together in his brain, and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you,” she exhaled, shoulders slumping back down.

“Are you gonna be okay here by yourself while I’m gone?”

“Yeah, I need to study anyways, I’ll keep myself busy. Just need to know she’s okay.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure she’s good, might hang out for a bit and watch something if she’s up for it.”

“That sounds amazing. Thank you.”

He didn’t like the idea of leaving her there, but he could tell she wouldn’t have any peace of mind until she knew that Bekah was okay. It reminded him off all the times he’d called his mother in the middle of the night in those last few months before he’d officially come home, just to make sure his dad was still there.

“If you need me, call me okay? I’ll turn back around.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I love you,” she said, kissing him quickly.

“I love you more.”

He shifted her off him onto the couch and got up, putting his shoes and coat on quickly before he could convince himself to stay. It was already dark outside despite it only being 6pm, and he kept his head down on the streets on his way to the hospital, mind racing until he got up to the unit and signed in.

He half expected Bekah to be lying still in her bed, on her back with all her machines on. Or, at least for her to be drained and tired like she had been the last few times they saw her. But when he cleared the doorway she was sitting up in bed on her phone, random Tik Tok audio’s playing. She looked up at him and smiled her brightest smile.

“Earrings! It’s a Wednesday, the fuck are you doing here?!”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You get an extra dose of me this week, deal with it,” he teased, unzipping his coat and laying it over one of the chairs.

“Where’s Indy?”

“Studying for finals. It’s a me you date tonight, you pick. What’re we doing?”

“Well, I restarted Vampire Diaries.”

“Restarted? Bro, you were on season 7 yesterday!”

“Yeah so? The best seasons are the first two, we’ve been over this.”

“Whatever, scootch over.”

She did as he asked, though he had to put the bedrails down to even fit halfway on the mattress.

“Here, get in here so we can send some motivation to Dee,” he said, pulling out his phone and opening snapchat. They moved so just their noses-up were on screen, making Bekah laugh as he sent it off.

She screenshotted it and sent back a heart, which put his mind at ease enough to relax and attempt to enjoy an episode, though he wasn’t really following the plot considering they were almost halfway through the first season.

“So, what’s happening exactly?” He finally asked 20 minutes into the episode.

“Stefan is trying to be all ‘you deserve better than me’, and Damon just doesn’t give a shit. Essentially, Stefan doesn’t want to hurt Elena so he wants her to make the decision to break it off so he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy.”

“But if he loves her, then why does he want to break it off at all?”

“Well cause he’s bad for her. She would have to give up so much for him. She’s having to lie to her friends, hide all this stuff for him. Change her whole life really. But she wants to, because she loves him, he just doesn’t think it’s fair to ask that of her. But like… he’s still asking her to do it just by being with her, you know?”

He knew.

“I mean, and he’s a fucking vampire. Yah know, suck suck and all that jazz,” Bekah laughed. “If the rest isn’t a deal breaker, then that definitely is. I mean, yeah, Damon’s a vampire too but at least he just accepts it, and he doesn’t ask her to change or anything.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m Team Damon, if you couldn’t tell,” she tried again.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Grayson tried to shake himself out of his thoughts, but it was proving difficult. Luckily, Bekah just mistook it as him being super invested in the show, which made her happy. Jessica let him stay an extra fifteen minutes, and he took a quick video of Bekah wishing Indy luck on her last final before he left and headed out.

The walk home was worse. It was darker somehow, colder as his mind raced with realization after realization. He did his best to do the math in his head. It was December 3rd, which meant 30 days until he was supposed to go back to LA. All the way to the other side of the country, only coming back to Jersey every few months if he was able to. Ethan’s voice rang in his head as he trudged through the lobby and into the elevator.

That shit won’t work when you’re on the other side of the country.

He tried to breathe it off, put on a positive face before he opened Indy’s apartment door, smiling when he saw her on the couch, pencil tucked behind her ear as she looked over diagrams.

“Hi! How was it?”

“It was good, she’s good. Looks great actually.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket once, then again, and he pulled it out to check it.

A notification of a payment from the joint bank account, and then a text from E.

Booked the flights for the 2nd. Hope that’s cool.

“Everything okay?” Indy asked.

He put his phone back in his pocket and smiled.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.”

#lmao at me not formatting this right haha #lets try again! #mixtape #grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan fanfiction #let me know what you think in exchange for my eternal love

[prettyvampiress96]

trackers hearts desire part 4

Leaving hand in hand with Gianna ,Phoibe couldn't help but keep glancing back behind her wondering just who he overly affectionate man was and why? Why did those three people turn their heads and look at her like she had three heads and six arms at the mention of her name? Tonight she would ask Gianna all her questions but for now she would allow her best friend to celebrate her birthday as planned . As time got on Phoibe had a pain in her chest that kept making itself known for an unbeknownst reason to her .

Both girls sat at their table in the restaurant when Gianna spoke. "So Phoibs did you get to see the Marcus day festival or was it more of shop til you drop situation" Gianna chuckled musically. " I did it was splendid , shame its only once a year but thats what makes it more special I guess" Phoibe replied with a shrug. glancing at her menu, Phoibe settled for ordering a spaghetti carbonara with a lemonade whilst Gianna ordered a vegetarian lasagne with a glass of white wine . Phoibe subconsciously kept clutching at her chest every time the pain made its way to the surface ,being a trained nurse Phoibe knew this was not a heart attack or a sign of a stroke , so putting it off her mind the best she could to enjoy her meal with her friend. little did both women know that just outside the restaurant from outside the window, across the street in a dark lane two dark figures were watching.

Meanwhile back inside the restaurant Gianna and Phoibe were coming to the end of their meal and had ordered dessert. " so lets discuss our options for tonight and for the weekend , I say with your parents away we have a proper girls weekend you spas , makeovers , shopping the whole whack but tonight how about dancing at a club and back to mine "Gianna suggested glancing hopefully at her friend before frowning slightly. "Actually Gi I'm not feeling to great could we watch a movie or something at yours and go dancing another night , if you want to go I dont mind my parents didnt go in the end . They'd understand " Phoibe mumbled feeling guilty but there was no way she could dance and have a good time if she could barely enjoy herself now. Gianna brushed her hand in mid air as if dismissing Phoibe's statement. "of course I dont mind are you sure your alright Phoib I thought you seemed a bit off come on lets go get into something more comfy" exclaimed Gianna . Both women paid the bill and left unaware of what was to come .

Upon arriving at Gianna's own apartment the two friends got settled in Gianna's bed with their sleep wear on . hoibe was putting the DVD on when Gianna came back into the room holding two glasses of water and some painkillers for her friend. both girls had decided on 27 dresses. Jumping under the blanket Phoibe couldn't help but apologise to Gianna for in her words ruining the night but Gianna assured her that it wasn't ruined and the Phoibe just owed her a night dancing when she was up to it. Before Phoibe could get around to asking her questions she drifted off into a peaceful sleep where the handsome face of Demetri plagued her dreams once again. When Phoibe woke in the morning she found a note on Gianna's pillow.

Phoibe,

I'm so sorry ive been called into work on an emergency and theres no idea yet when I get off but ill do my best to make it as soon as possible. I promise I will make it up to you

Gianna

With a sigh Phoibe decided she would go home to her parents and see if they wanted to get breakfast and do something until Gianna could return. Phoibe quickly sent a text to Gianna to tell her what she was up to. Phoibe got dressed and made Gianna's bed before leaving to go home. After all manners cost nothing . Phoibe arrived at her front door with her keys to find it was already unlocked, humming to herself Phoibe opened the door and dumped her bag by the front door closing it behind her. Turning into the kitchen nobody was there. " Mom Dad are you home?" she shouted. Phoibe ran towards the stairs only to slip on something wet , raising her wet hand to her eyeline, Phoibe scrambled to her feet . Blood . Phoibe looked around the room and for the first time she noticed the complete war zone. Flower vases knocked over , coffee table in pieces and family photos all with the family members heads torn off all besides Phoibe's that is. It was then she saw it . The bodies of her mother and father.

Phoibe rushed to their sides panicking and distraught on what to do . Her medical training kicking in she checked pulses. her mothers was gone but her fathers was faint. In an attempt to do all she could to save her dad she applied pressure to his very much open wound on his neck and attempted cpr . Phoibe tried and tried but to no avail his pulse slowly stopped . Phoibe started to scream in agony , her parents were dead . it was like a scene from a horror movie both parents had their throats ripped out . Hearing screams passers by entered through the door and called the police and an ambulance service. Phoibe went upstairs to wash the blood off her hands, she couldn't bear the sight of her parents like that. Phoibe looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't help but wonder if she had been there last night would they be alive now or would she be dead also. Phoibe went into her room to grab a sheet to cover her parents with . stopping when there was a note on her bed with a disc. without reading the note Phoibe stuck the DVD into her laptop and pressed play , soon wishing she hadn't as there on the disc was the entire murder of her parents. She had never seen their faces before but red eyes. Gianna's co workers had red eyes. unable to watch the act be committed , Phoibe opened the note it read :

youngest Phoibe

we have yet to meet in person , your parents refused to give us your whereabouts and as a result this had to happen and the volturi cannot have you added to their clan of imbeciles . this whole situation could have been avoided if your little volturi pet Gianna hadn't invited you into their precious castle. You see sweet angel , theres many things Gianna has not told you starting with the volturi.

we will see you in the very near future .

we shall be watching.

Stefan and Vladimir

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip - Pt 12: Answers

Mina’s eyes finally lift from her notebook, and you are struck the beauty of the young woman - it is a beauty that would not be out of place in a fashion magazine or in a painting in some Japanese history museum. The young lawyer is wearing a short black dress with a plunging neckline, and you found your eyes wandering a little towards the delicious looking cleavage and the creamy, pale vanilla skin of her upper chest.

“I’ve already told you this, but boys aren’t my preference,” she says with a soft tone, “although I do make an exception here and there for… special men.”

“This is our proof.”

 At your nod, Park Choa clicks her mouse, bringing up a picture on the large flat screen TV mounted to the meeting room wall. Seated around the large table in the middle of the room are yourself, Choa, Momo, Seolhyun, and Mina; sitting opposite your team are Tzuyu and Sana, the former with an unimpressed, arrogant look on her young features - the latter with a blank, emotionless look on hers.

 On the screen is a picture of a battery pack - one of relatively common design, at least externally. But on the side is a small label; such a small thing, but something that would have a massive impact on the fate of two companies and the lives of many dozens of its employees.

 “This device,” you continue, “was lent to me by one of your employees several months ago. As you will see, the label reads: Minatozaki Sana.”

 A hush falls over the room at the revelation. There it was, clear as day - proof that Tzuyu’s company’s tech was stolen, and proof that Sana was complicit in the theft of said data from Seolhyun’s company.

 “We have reason to believe that this device actually contained a hacking program that used the connection my cell phone had to our network to break into our servers and steal the intellectual property that you presented as your own yesterday.”

 “That’s not proof at all,” Tzuyu retorts, “that could be any battery pack. There’s no proof whatsoever that it’s any sort of data theft device. For all I know, you bought that this morning and slapped a label with my employee’s name on it.”

 “I figured you’d say that,” you answer, and you nod once more to Choa, who switches the display to show a Skype window. On the screen is a young woman, her blue-green hair and circular rimmed glasses making her look a little like she stepped out of an anime or video game.

 “This is our IT analyst, Yoo Jeongyeon,” you say, “and she has had some time to retrieve the device from my apartment and analyze its contents. Jeongyeon?”

 “The battery pack has been modified to house a hacking device,” Jeongyeon begins, adjusting the large glasses on her nose, “it’s been programmed to hack into the network of any portable device it’s plugged into, before identifying, copying, and transmitting selected data from the host device’s network to a secure server.”

 “Jeongyeon, was there any specific data on the device that indicates where the data was sent to?”

 “Yes. Server records indicate it was sent to a secure server in Taiwan. I’ve contacted internet service providers both here and in Taiwan, and they have corroborated the transfer of data. The secure server is housed in a building that is owned by Chou Tzuyu’s company. This is all indisputable, unedited hard data that I can send to anyone who wants to see it.”

 All eyes turn to Tzuyu, and it was obvious that the young woman was expending a significant amount of effort to remain composed in the face of her accusations.

 “Thank you, Jeongyeon,” you say, and the aloof young woman on the screen nods before taking a swig of what appeared to be an energy drink and closing her connection.

 “This is preposterous,” Tzuyu says, dismissing Jeongyeon’s statements with a wave of her hand, “and downright offensive. We don’t have to sit here and listen to your baseless accusations. We came here out of professional courtesy, but we don’t have to sit here and simply take this.”

 The young woman rises from her chair, anger twisting her youthful features into a scowl.

 “Let’s go, Sana,” she says, looking at the seated Japanese girl next to her, who thus far had been silent and wearing an expressionless mask.

 “Before you go,” Seolhyun says, the anticipation of revenge palpable in her voice, “you should know that we are planning to sue the shit out of you for hacking a private server, intellectual property theft, and whatever else the fuck it takes to make you regret ever messing with me and my company.”

 “Miss Miyoui, if you will,” you add, and at that Mina, who is also present, reaches into her folder and produces a thick stack of paper, which she slides across the table.

 “We will see you in court,” Mina says, her tone as confident as ever, “and I will beat you.”

 “You? You think you can beat a multi million dollar team of lawyers in court? You, alone?” Tzuyu says, the words almost a hiss.

 “Yes, me,” Mina retorts, her face as serene and calm as ever, “I will wipe the floor with you and your company, no matter how many stuck up, expensive lawyers you throw at me. And when I’m done, your company won’t want anything to do with someone who did something as stupid as steal a rival’s tech. Not only will you never work in this industry again; I’ll also make sure you end up in jail.”

 “Not to mention that public opinion will against your parent company very quickly,” Hirai Momo adds, “we’ll put our proof out into the public. Social media will take it from there, and not only will your division lose any sort of foothold you may have gained in this industry - your entire parent company will take a reputation hit it probably won’t ever recover from. You’d be making some powerful enemies.”

 Tzuyu’s hands have balled into fists. She is furious now, the last remnants of her discipline struggling to retain her composure. Beside her, Sana has not moved an inch, her face still expressionless.

 “There is a way out of this,” you begin, “a solution that will result in a favorable result for all parties involved.”

 “Oh yeah?” Tzuyu retorts, “and what might that be?”

 “We will buy out your division of your parent company. That includes your entire staff and intellectual property, including, of course, the intellectual property you stole from us. We then announce the acquisition of both your division and FNC Inc. at our presentation tomorrow.”

 “If we buy your division, we promise not to divulge your little theft to the public,” Momo adds, “and we gain a new division of staff and an office here in Taiwan. You gain the privilege of, well, not going to jail for intellectual property theft.”

 “That’s blackmail. You still haven’t proven that we did anything. You can’t force us to sell our division to you just because you’re accusing us of theft,” Tzuyu says, although the desperation in her tone betrays the cracks in her initially impenetrable armor of confidence.

 “We’re giving you the opportunity to get out of this scott free,” you answer, “everyone in this room knows you stole the tech, and we have ironclad evidence to prove it. Your choice is simple. Either throw away your entire career and face possible jail time, or swallow your pride and join our company. Who knows, you might even like it.”

 The young woman bites her lip, looking very much like a cornered animal. Her fists are still clenched, her brow furrowed as she contemplates her options.

 “We’ll get back to you in two hours,” Tzuyu says, and without further word, she gathers her laptop and bag before storming out of the room. Beside her, Sana rises, her face still blank - but when you lock eyes with her for a split second, you notice that her eyes have an unbearable sadness about them that breaks your heart.

 The Japanese girl walks slowly to the door and leaves the room; involuntarily, your hand rises as if to beckon her to stay. But then she is gone, leaving you staring at a closed door once again.

 “We have those bitches!” Seolhyun exclaims as soon as Sana leaves, “They’d be stupid not to take that deal. I really wanted to make introduce the tech myself tomorrow… but I’m just happy they’re not getting away with what they did to us.”

 “Me too,” Momo agrees, “speaking of which, we need to get some logistics ready for tomorrow - assuming they take the deal, of course. We’ll need to set up the presentation to introduce both FNC and Tzuyu’s division as our new acquisitions.”

 “We’ll also need to take care of the legal paperwork,” Mina adds.

 “Right. Momo, you take Choa and Seolhyun and work on the presentation. Mina and I will stay here and wait for Tzuyu’s decision. In the meantime we’ll work on the legal paperwork and have a contract ready for them to sign.”

 “Roger that, boss,” Momo says with a smile and a mock salute, glancing at both you and Mina before adding, “you two have fun.”

 You catch a hint of suggestiveness in your girlfriend’s smile and the weighted look in her eyes - but you don’t have time to question her as she takes Choa and Seolhyun and leaves the room.

 You let a sigh out and lean back in your chair as the three girls exit the room. You weren’t enirely sure how Tzuyu would react to your claims, but you were thankful that it at least looked like she was going to consider your offer.

 “Well, I’m glad that’s over and done with - the rest is up to Tzuyu now,” you say.

 “Agreed,” Mina replies, her expression as calm and stoic as ever as she jots down some notes in her notebook, “that went as well as we could have hoped. There’s no way they reject that deal. They’ll accept it.”

 “A lot of it will be thanks to you, Miss Miyoui. You scared them out of taking us to court.”

 “It wasn’t scaring them. It was a promise. I would have beaten them, no matter what they threw at me.”

 “I believe it.”

 “And also,” she adds, “please. Just call me Mina.”

 “Sorry, Miss- err, Mina. You’re not officially an employee of JYP, so I didn’t want to assume anything. And while we’re on that topic, I know you were hired to take care of the legal matters related to our acquisition of FNC, but I’m sure you could have a job with JYP if you wanted it.”

 A slim smile appears on her lips, but Mina’s eyes don’t leave her notebook. 

 “Why, so I can join your little group of women that you fuck at will on a daily basis?”

 You are taken aback slightly by Mina’s frank statement, although at the same time you weren’t surprised given her forthright nature.

 “My relationships, personal or otherwise, with my colleagues are purely consensual.”

 “I’m sure they are,” Mina replies, “and I didn’t say I have a problem with it.”

 Mina’s eyes finally lift from her notebook, and you are struck the beauty of the young woman - it is a beauty that would not be out of place in a fashion magazine or in a painting in some Japanese history museum. The young lawyer is wearing a short black dress with a plunging neckline, and you found your eyes wandering a little towards the delicious looking cleavage and the creamy, pale vanilla skin of her upper chest.

 “I’ve already told you this, but boys aren’t my preference,” she says with a soft tone, “although I do make an exception here and there for… special men.”

 “Is that so,” you answer. You smile slyly. You liked where this was going.

 “Tzuyu says we have two hours. Better make the most of it.”

 “And what did you have in mind, Mina?”

 Mina rises from her chair, a slim smile on her perfectly shaped lips as she approaches your chair. With no further prompting or pretense, she reaches for your tie and with swift movements, she undoes the knot and slips the tie from around your neck.

 You are wondering exactly what she has in mind when she folds the tie in half and presents it to you, as though she were giving you a gift.

 “If you impress me, I’ll consider joining your company,” she says, “Tie me up. Strip me. Make me wet. And then, you can fuck me.”

 You weren’t exactly a bondage enthusiast, having only indulged here and there with light experimentation in your younger days, but you weren’t one to turn down a gift when it was given to you, and certainly not a gift from a woman as beautiful as the one right in front of you.

 You take your tie from Mina’s hands as you rise from your chair. Her eyes meet yours, and notice that her eyes are beginning to show signs of something other than businesslike indifference - there is a little bit of lust there, a little bit of need beginning to show beneath her prim, proper exterior.

 You can’t resist anymore; you lean forward and bring your lips to hers. Your lips press hard against each other for only a moment, before Mina’s tongue slides against your mouth, and before you know it your tongues are duelling, pressing and swirling around each other. Her kiss is frantic, fierce, the complete opposite of her demure personality.

 Mina breaks the kiss and you lock eyes with her for a moment before you are suddenly very aware of the tie in your left hand, and with a quickness and aggressiveness that surprises even you, you grasp the young woman by her slim shoulders and turn her around. Grasping her wrists, you bring them behind her back and begin to tie up her hands.

 “You like being tied up, do you, Mina?”

 “Mina?” she says to your surprise, “It’s Miss Miyoui to you,” she finishes. The smile on your lips widens.

 “Do you like being tied up, Miss Miyoui?” you ask, finally finishing the double knot that is binding her hands together behind her back.

 “Yes,” she answers, her tone a little breathier than usual.

 You bring your hands to her shoulders, relishing the feel of her soft, blemishless skin - like perfect vanilla, smooth and pale. Mina’s head falls backward slightly, and you hear a soft breath of air escape her lips.

 “Strip me.”

 Your fingers reach the neckline of her thin, black dress, and you slowly draw the fabric down her shoulders.

 “Do you like being undressed, Miss Miyoui?”

 “Yes,” she answers, her tone now a soft gasp, desire building and threatening to break down the last vestiges of her demure exterior.

 Finally, you draw the dress far enough down her shoulders until it is just barely covering her nipples - and with one last pull, you draw the flimsy dress down past her breasts, her soft, small mounds escaping the fabric with a small bounce.

 Mina is squirming now, her arms still bound behind her back, her naked shoulders and small, perfect breasts now exposed. Your arms snake around her small frame, and you grasp both her breasts in your palms, enjoying the feel of her warm flesh in your hands. You smile as you feel her nipples hardening, her buds poking against your palms.

 You capture both of her nipples with your index finger and thumb, and give the hardened buds a slight pinch.

 Mina moans - the first outright sound of pleasure she has allowed to escape her mouth since you started.

 “You’re mine now, Miss Miyoui,” you whisper softly into her ear.

 You press forward on the young woman’s back, bending her forward until her upper body is pressed against the table. Wasting no further time, you grasp the hem of Mina’s dress and pull it up over her upraised ass, revealing more perfect, vanilla skin - and the absence of underwear. You take a moment to burn the image in your mind of the young woman bent over on the table, her hands bound behind her back, her naked save for her black dress bunched around her waist.

 “No underwear, Miss Miyoui?”

 “No,” she answers, pausing slightly before adding, “Eat me.”

 You weren’t one to keep a woman waiting, and you drop to your knees and admire the soft, glistening flesh of Mina’s pussy for a split second before pressing your mouth to her lips and giving her a long, slow lick.

 The moan that leaves Mina’s mouth tells you that she has finally cracked - gone is the demure, reserved young woman you knew from meetings and office presentations - the woman that you were currently tongue deep in was a new woman now. A wanton, lustful young thing.

 Her moan encourages you, and you dive in the same way you did with the other women in your life, pressing the flat of your tongue against the lips of her pussy before dragging it up and down, stimulating her sensitive flesh with long, broad strokes. You bring a finger up to her crotch and, with your middle finger, search for and quickly find the hardened, erect bud of her clit.

 The dual stimulation has turned Mina into a mewling, moaning mess, every vestige of her demure exterior now long gone - there was only pleasure now, emanating from your tongue and fingers and coursing throughout her young body. Her naked breasts are crushed against the table, and she rubs her chest on the cool wood of the table in some attempt to stimulate her nipples given her bound hands.

 “Fuck! Fuck you’re so good at that,” she says, “now I know why Momo loves when you eat her out.”

 You want to answer, want to tell her that wasn’t the only thing she liked about you, but you decide instead to redouble your efforts, driving your tongue as deep as you can inside her pussy and bringing your ring finger up to join your middle finger in stimulating her clit. Her juices are flowing freely now, and you gladly gather them on your tongue, the bittersweet taste of her body staining your mouth.

 Your eyes are closed as you dive into her pussy, focusing all your attention on tonguing her pussy, but when you open them your eyes are drawn to the tightly clenched ring of her asshole, not even inches away from your eyes.

 “My asshole,” Mina hisses, as though reading your thoughts, “my ass. Do it…”

 You give Mina’s juicy, heavily leaking pussy one last lick, savoring the juices on your tongue one more time before raising your head slightly and angling your mouth to match Mina’s rear entrance. And with no further hesitation, you press forward with your mouth, your tongue reaching out and giving her clenched asshole a long, soft lick.

 “Fuck!” Mina yelps at the first contact of your tongue and her most private of areas, “Yes! More!”

 Your tongue almost moves of its own accord, and before you know it you are tonguing Miyoui Mina’s ass, her clenched muscle loosening slightly as she becomes used to the stimulation of her asshole. All the while, your fingers are playing with her clit, never stopping rubbing and swirling around her hard bud, the juices making her flesh slick and magnifying the pleasure emanating from her clit.

 “Oh God!” Mina moans, “Oh god! Eat my ass! I’m gonna cum! Yes… right there…. Ohhh!”

 Mina’s squirming, wriggling body suddenly goes taut as an orgasm wracks her young body. You continue to tongue her ass and finger her clit, albeit with a slightly slower pace, encouraging aftershocks of pleasure in her body without making her uncomfortable.

 Miyoui Mina is a far cry from the ladylike, reserved lawyer she was a half hour ago - now she is a disheveled, half naked mess, bent over on the boardroom table, her juices leaking freely from her pussy and making her thighs glisten. Her face is pressed against the table, but she still finds the strength to make her next demand.

 “Fuck me.”

 They are words you have been waiting to hear, and you rise quickly, undoing your belt and zipper, finally freeing your fully erect shaft from your boxers. You grasp Mina’s bound wrists with your left hand and your shaft with your right, pressing the cockhead against her drenched lips, lubricating it with her pussy juices.

 Mina lets out a soft gasp before she speaks with a lustful tone, “My pussy… is only for girls.”

 It takes you only a split second to put two and two together. Then, adjusting your angle slightly as Mina lowers her hips to allow you better access, you press your cockhead against her tight, clenched asshole.

 “...but… you can fuck my ass.”

 You didn’t think there were any more arousing words in the English language, and you move your hips forward slightly, pressing your hard shaft against Mina’s ass, before you finally feel the tight ring of her anus begin to give way to you. You didn’t have too much experience with anal sex aside from your first time with Momo last week, but you were certainly eager to increase your knowledge.

 Soon half of your shaft is now embedded within Mina’s ass, every square millimeter of penetration drawing a lustful moan from her lips. Your grip on her bound wrists tightens, and you pull backward slightly on your tie, pulilng her wrists and upper body back against your hips as you thrust forward - simultaneously, the thickest part of your shaft finally eases into Mina’s tight ass, and you have finally fully impaled the young woman’s asshole with your hard, thick cock.

 “Fuck,” Mina says, the curse word escaping her lips in a long, drawn out hiss as her body adjusts to the new feeling of fullness. She had told you she usually slept with women, so this must have been a new or rare experience, although it occured to you given how much Momo enjoyed anal sex that it was likely not Mina’s first time.

 “Enough,” Mina says, interrupting your reverie, “Fuck me already. Show me what a man can do. Fuck my ass until you fill it with cum.”

 You want to say something, something that is bold or cocky, but you decide to answer her challenge the best way you know how - with action. And to that end you draw your shaft out of her body, and when only the cockhead remains, you thrust forward again, impaling the young lawyer’s asshole with the full thickness of your shaft. With Momo you took it slow, careful not to cause your girlfriend any pain or discomfort - but Mina didn’t seem to have any difficulty allowing you into her body, and so you quickly find yourself pumping in and out of her bent body with the same speed that you had when fucking another woman’s pussy.

 A long, drawn-out string of moans begins to leave Mina’s mouth, accentuated at the end of every thrust into her asshole with a loud gasp as your hips meet the firm flesh of her asscheeks. Soon you are thrusting hard enough that your balls are slapping against her drenched pussy with a wet smack - Mina’s ass was much easier to fuck than Momo’s, which wasn’t surprising given Mina’s seeming comfort with anal sex.

 “Oh God,” Mina says, her body rocked with each thrust on the table, “That feels so good! Your cock… your cock is so deep in me! So deep in my ass! Yes! Keep fucking me!”

 You are slamming in and out her tight, hot asshole now, truly fucking the young lawyer with long, smooth strokes of your shaft, enjoying the sight of her body as it is bent over in front of you, the perfect skin of her shoulders and back flexing with effort as she absorbs each thrust.

 You pull backward on your tie, pulling her bound wrists backward and lifting her upper body and shoulders slightly from the desk. Her breasts are freed from being crushed against the table, and you curse the fact that you are unable to watch as they bounce erotically with each thrust into their owner’s body. You content yourself with watching her full, round ass cheeks giggle as they are rocked with each slam of your hips into hers.

 With your free hand you grasp her right butt cheek, squeezing the firm flesh, spreading it outward slightly to give you a better view of your shaft as it plunges in and out of Miyoui Mina’s tight ass. You realize that while she was comfortable with anal sex, the fact that she usually slept with women meant that she probably mainly penetrated by sex toys.

 “You like… being filled with cock, instead of some toy?”

 “Yes!” is Mina’s immediate reply, “A toy… a toy can’t fill me with cum.”

 Her words are so erotic, so lusty, that you are momentarily taken aback by the vulgar, wanton young woman Mina has suddenly become. You decide to reciprocate, and ensure that you had fully broken her outer shell of propriety.

 “You like being tied up and bent over a table while a man pounds this tight little ass of yours?”

 “Fuck yes!”

 You decide to take things into your own hands, so to speak, and you pull back with your left hand, pulling Mina’s upper body off the table completely until her body is almost upright - simultaneously you move your right hand around her torso and grasp her naked left breast, grabbing the entire mound with your palm and squeezing. You find yourself disappointed yet again that you weren’t able to taste her breasts earlier - but you content yourself with the fact that your new position could at least allow you to whisper directly into Mina’s ear.

 “You like having your ass fucked, Miss Miyoui? You like being with a man?” you hiss.

 “Yes! I love it… I’m so full.. So full with your cock. You… You’re gonna make me cum!”

 “You’re such a proper little lady at work,” you hiss, pulling back even more on her bound wrists, driving her torso into an even more upright position as you tighten your grip on her breast, “but you’re not like that at all when your hands are tied and your ass is being fucked, are you?”

 “No… I… I’m so close…”

 “You’re not such a proper lady right now, are you, Miss Miyoui?”

 “No… I… I….”

 You fuck her a little harder, drawing startled little gasps from her pretty mouth. You were almost there, almost at the point of fully breaking her little facade…

 “Then what are you, Miss Miyoui?”

 “I’m your fucktoy! My ass is yours to fuck whenever you want!”

 Mina’s reply is loud, and if you weren’t balls deep into her tight, clenching asshole then you might have been afraid that someone passing by outside would have heard. But at the moment you didn’t care - the CEO of your companies could have walked in the room and you wouldn’t have stopped fucking the young, quivering woman in your arms.

 You are satisfied that you had finally broken through her demure, ladylike exterior and exposed her true nature. Now it was time to concentrate on pleasure.

 “Good… I’m going to be fucking this ass quite a bit, Miss Miyoui. Do you like when I’m so deep in you?”

 “Yes… I love it when I’m stretched out… Oh… Oh god. I… I’m gonna cum!”

 Her slim, tight body would have been too much to handle during normal vanilla sex, but with her half clothed, arms tied behind her back as she is bent over a table, and with your shaft buried in her asshole as she is on the brink orgasm, it is far too much to handle. And it embarasses you a little bit, how quickly you have found yourself so close to orgasm yourself, but given the circumstances you weren’t exactly surprised.

 “I… I’m gonna cum soon too, Miss Miyoui,” you admit, somewhat shamefully. Your shaft never stops pistoning in and out of her clenched ass, however, not that Mina minds as she nears the brink of orgasm.

 “Then cum… cum with me! Fill my body with your cum... Cum inside my ass! Oh! I’m cumming!”

 Mina does just that, the combination of your hand on her breast and the hard, thick flesh pistoning in and out her body driving her into an orgasm that leaves her trembling and spasming in your arms. You pull back on her bound wrists like it was some sort of leash, all in an attempt to drive yourself deeper into Mina’s willing, wanton body.

 It is too much for you to handle, and you are struck with an orgasm that takes you completely by surprise - usually you knew when you were about to cum, knew when to expect that wonderful plateau of pleasure - but not this time. It is an orgasm that strikes you completely unprepared for it, and before you know it you are buried balls deep in Miyoui Mina’s body as you release stream after stream of thick, hot cum into her ass, both of your hot bodies trembling with pleasure.

 You black out - nothing else exists except the pleasure that has overtaken your body. You feel the semen leaving your shaft, feel Mina’s asshole tightening around your cock, you are even aware of Mina’s long, sultry mid-orgasm moan that fills the room, but only barely - above all, there is the pleasure.

 Slowly you both wind down from your mutual orgasms, and you are both left bent over the table, both breathing heavily. You gather your wits enough to slowly withdraw your softening shaft from Mina’s tight ass, savoring the feel of her body squeezing every inch of it as it exits her, leaving behind a mess of thick white semen that begins to flow slowly from her freshly fucked opening.

 You grasp the young woman’s shoulders softly and turn her around so that she is facing you again, her hands still bound behind her back. You run your tongue over your lips as you notice her bound hands have thrust her chest forward, presenting her naked breasts, the firm mounds pushed up by the black dress bunched beneath her breasts.

 You lean forward, bending slightly, and take her left breast in your mouth, savoring the feel of her sweat misted skin and the hard nub of her nipple on your tongue.

 “Momo always said you were a boobs guy,” Mina says as she lets her head fall back, still happily stuck in that wonderful post-orgasm haze, enjoying the new sensation of your tongue on her breasts.

 “I wanted to taste them, but I couldn’t with you turned around,” you say softly between licks. You bring your other hand up and squeeze her right breast, not wanting it to be left unattended.

 “Maybe next time,” Mina says softly, “I won’t be turned around. Because maybe… it’ll be my pussy you’re fucking.”

 —-

 “We accept your offer.”

 Tzuyu’s words come as a definite relief, even if you knew they were the only real choice the young woman had of avoiding the fallout of her decision to steal Seolhyun’s tech. There is an audible sigh of relief in the room, at least from the women on your side of the table. You note, however, that Sana was absent from the room.

 “We will commence formal talks after this conference. I presume your lawyer here will preside over the legal aspects?”

 “I will,” Mina confirms, and you relish the fact that her normally pale skin was still a little flushed from your recent exertions.

 “I also demand that I and all my staff members receive complete immunity from prosecution.”

 “Done,” you answer.

 There is a look of defeat on Tzuyu’s face that almost - almost - makes you feel sorry for her. Despite he audaciousness if her plans, she was still just a young girl that was trying to make a name for herself in a competitive industry, even if her methods were suspect.

 “And how did your parent company take this news?” Momo asks.

 “Not well,” Tzuyu replies, “I don’t think I’ll be invited to the Christmas party this year.”

 “We’ll ensure they don’t do anything to harm you or your staff, Tzuyu. And you can be assured that no one else in our company will be aware of what you did. You’ll have a fresh start with us at JYP,” Momo says, surprising you a little bit with her apparent compassion. Perhaps the older woman was feeling a little sympathetic towards the vulnerable girl in front of you.

 “Good. They have a reputation of being rather… cutthroat. It’s how they did so well in other industries.”

 “We can take them on,” Seolhyun boasts, “there are only two other companies I know of that could possibly threaten us in this industry. Unless it’s one of them, they won’t be a problem.”

 “It is,” Tzuyu says with an ominous tone, “if they decide to, they can wreck JYP without lifting a finger.”

 “Then who are they?” Choa asks. Tzuyu pauses for a moment as she prepares to reveal the identity of her parent company.

 “SM.”

 —-

 In an empty meeting room elsewhere in he conference hall, Minatozaki Sana is having a hushed conversation on a cell phone.

 “Everything is going according to plan. Tzuyu’s plan was foiled. The targets found the hacking device as planned and my name on the device implicated us, as expected.”

 …

 “No, they still believe I’m a part of her staff. Tzuyu isn’t suspicious of me. They purchased our division as part of our plea bargain, so I’m now once again part of JYP.”

 …

 “Yes. I will proceed as planned. You can tell Joy she can send me the stealth hacking program when it’s ready.”

 …

 “Yes, I understand. Good bye, Irene.”

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #pov smut #Smut #male reader #twice #twice mina #miyoui mina #mina

[captainmazzic]

Happy Halloween.

So it’s about time I gave a real fucking update instead of just dicking around being cagey about shit. I’ve mentioned a new project repeatedly. So let’s sit down and actually talk about it, friends. Pull up a chair, grab yourself some hot cocoa and strap in. Welcome to Sarc’s emotional roller coaster.

Bear with me. This is hard to talk about for so many reasons, but mostly because I’ve been belittled and ridiculed so many times in my life for liking “cringy” things or wanting to do things that other people think are stupid or childish. I hear the voice of my father telling me to “make something of my life” and “don’t squander your talents”, I hear the voice of my mother telling me I have “so much potential” and “one day I hope you get some ambition”, I hear the voice of my ex telling me to “stop wasting time with stupid shit” and “nobody is interested in failures”. I hear old teachers telling me honor roll students should go to college and study high-demand majors and anything else would be lazy and detrimental and won’t contribute anything worthwhile to society.

It’s the same shit that prevented me for a long time from posting art online. From posting writing online. From making ocs and showing them to other people. And now it’s preventing me from starting this project, and I’m so, so tired of it.

My biggest fear right now is that once I start talking about this project I’ll lose this tiny little community of people vaguely interested in my stuff that have somehow stuck around. External validation and sharing the things I love are my primary motivations with everything I do online, and while screaming into the void is all well and good, I need feedback and interaction and community. I need it so, so badly. I wouldn’t post jack shit – ever – if I didn’t need that, to be honest.

So anyway.

When the pandemic kicked into high gear earlier this year I got laid off for a few months. It gave me a lot of time to think about who I am and where I wanted to be in life, what mattered to me, what dreams I still had and which ones had fallen by the wayside.

Some of them are huge – once upon a time I was very religious. I went through seminary, got my minister’s certification, and was slated to be an associate pastor in a mega-church and rake in a six-figure income within 3 years. But I lost my faith and couldn’t stand the idea of being disingenuous.

And there was also a time when I received a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious university that would have spanned a 12-year program and resulted in me having several doctorates and masters degrees by the end of it, in the fields of geology, palaeontology, and cladistics. But the scholarship program that was supposed to sponsor me went bankrupt the very semester I was supposed to capitalize on it. I was still accepted into the school, but the $1.2 million price tag would have all been out of my own pocket. So obviously that didn’t happen.

Those were the “acceptable” dreams. Those were the ones that parents and teachers and the general outside world approved of and thought were worthy goals. But neither of them panned out, and all I have left are the cringy ones. Like homesteading and sustainable living (can’t start without land, can’t have land without money). Like making comic books and doing art commissions for a living (it has to be steady to support myself, and I’m far too slow an artist for things to be steady). And like… playing video games.

Ha.

What’s funny is I can already envision the eyerolls and hear the snorts of laughter. What kind of dream is that? Only a handful of famous youtubers and twitch celebrities play video games for a living, and breaking into a field like that is pretty much impossible unless you already have friends in famous places.

Yeah, but… it would be so much fun. Right?

It WOULD be fun. I don’t have to become a super popular celebrity for it to be fun, right?

I don’t have to make it my day job and rake in piles of cash for it to be fun, right?

… I don’t have to actually be successful for it to be fun… right?

… Right?

:/

… I love video games.

I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed so many times to win The Empire Strikes Back on Atari 2600. I’ve loved them ever since I played Mortal Kombat with my cousin in his basement with the sound down super low because it was ultra-violent and I would have been in so much trouble if mom caught me playing it. I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed to finish Strife and Hexen and Heretic without the computer crashing and rebooting to DOS. I’ve loved them ever since I had to cheat-code my way through Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II just to get past the first boss fight but then no-clipped through the wall and died anyway. I still love that game.

But I stopped playing video games for a very long time. I was intimidated out of them by an ex and a somewhat toxic friend group who were Real Gamers™. I was brought to LAN parties but not allowed to play, because I slowed down the team and didn’t know the controls. I was banned from commenting on other people’s moves or cheering people on because it was distracting and I could cost them a win. I was even kicked out of their online D&D campaigns because I couldn’t be serious enough or roleplay well enough for their standards. Even if I was playing a game on my own, I couldn’t play with anyone else in the house because I’d be ridiculed for dying a lot, or for going the wrong way, or for picking the wrong game because only certain games are “good” and most of the ones I wanted to play were “stupid” or “trash” or a “waste of time”.

That kind of thing sits with me for a very, very long time. I didn’t really play games at all for over a decade. Even after I ended up on the opposite side of the country, with a new circle of friends, I couldn’t bring myself to play much of anything.

And then I had an extended visit with a friend of mine, and he introduced me to an early version of a ridiculous little game called Minecraft. My friend was an avid gamer but also a very kind one. In the ten years before this, I had told myself that I just preferred to watch other people play games instead of playing them myself (a lie. I mean, I absolutely adore watching other people play, but I also want to play too lol), my friend saw through that and very gently encouraged me to take a stab at playing Minecraft myself. He moved his laptop over to me, and I played a whole ten minutes with him watching before my nerves failed me and I promptly died. But miraculously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just a game. I might have cried in relief, I don’t remember.

After my visit I shelved playing video games for like another year, despite buying a whole mess of them because other friends online loved certain titles and wanted to talk about them with me. (I never played them, just bought them. I couldn’t even handle the thought of playing by myself in my own house). But for some reason I mentioned to my brother-in-law my old visit to my Minecraft-loving friend, and he just… up and bought the game for me. My brother-in-law is also an avid gamer with a lovely and patient disposition, and he suggested I just play in creative mode and build things to start. So I did that (behind a locked door in the RV that I lived in by myself, with the lights off and the sound down low) and Minecraft was my sole video game for another several years.

Then a couple years ago another friend of mine (hi Char) introduced me to Star Wars: The Old Republic, and I fell in love. It sparked a renewed interest in video games that I thought I would never really have the opportunity to satisfy, because games were still intimidating.

Let me clarify: I… SUCK. At video games. I’m terrible at them. Learning controls is a nightmare and a tunicate evolving its own brain would learn faster than me. If I’m aiming, I can’t hit the broad side of a barn. I have the direction sense of a whirligig beetle on the back of a drunk pigeon. I die fast and I die often. I can count the number of games I’ve actually finished on one hand. Even less if we don’t count the ones I had to use cheat codes to get through. But none of that diminishes my love of experiencing them, and over this whole pandemic and quarantine thing I’ve had a lot of time to unpack and mull over my thoughts and feelings and passions about them.

… I moved my RV to a new spot literally the day before the lockdown in my state first initiated. Before this I was in a spot that had no internet other than what reception I could get on my phone, with severely limited bandwidth and patchy, unreliable service. The new spot has a steady wi-fi connection, and while upload speed is utter shit, downloading and streaming video are just this side of manageable. So I spent the first three months of the quarantine lockdown doing pretty much nothing other than watching Jacksepticeye, CrankGameplays, and Markiplier play video games on YouTube. (I honestly had no idea before this that people even did let’s plays. My internet access/speed has been shit for so long I’m totally out of the loop).

It… for fear of sounding utterly stupid yet again, it inspired me.

Like. These people really love what they’re doing. They just. Play video games and have fun with it, and I mean yeah they make money hand-over-fist doing it but the main thing is they HAVE FUN doing it. They have fun! Playing video games! In front of people! It’s wild. And the thing that REALLY got me was… they have feedback on it too. They have a COMMUNITY. They have people they can talk to about it. They have people that they can play games WITH, even, who don’t yell at them or tell them they suck every five minutes or tell them they can’t play with them because they’re worthless as teammates. They can fuck up in a game and their friends are laughing along with them on Discord instead of screaming at them to get it right or get out. They can play games by themselves in their house and then upload videos on the internet and then they can talk to other people about it! They have fun! It’s awesome! They have fun!!

I just. It meant so much to me. It meant so much to me to see these videos of these three, and then another dozen or so that I’ve followed since, play all these games and have such a good time and also be such a positive and kind and encouraging source of energy.

I know all of this is not exactly about video games specifically. It’s about coming to terms with how I’ve been treated as a person and as a friend, about how other people respect someone’s interests and passions, about how it’s okay to share your interests with other people and it’s okay to like things that other people might not care about or think are important.

And I’m so, so tired of not doing the things I love because I’m afraid of what other people will think.

So I, uh. I invested all of the stimulus money I had into a new rig and equipment like a camera, lighting, acoustic panels, all that shit. I dug out all the games I bought but never played, I made accounts on all the big gaming services like Steam and Itch.io and GoG, and I made a YouTube channel. And I’m going to be making my own let’s plays. And it will suck, and it will be cringy and awkward and badly done, and it won’t make me money or be a valid career option or be anything but another very expensive hobby, but it will be mine, and it will be something I can share with people and (hopefully) have fun with, and it will (hopefully) be an avenue for some of this positive social interaction I’m craving.

I know YouTube can be toxic and super negative and full of trolls and cancel culture fanatics and people just waiting to find something to tear you down for, but like. Come on, y’all. I’m posting this on tumblr dot com. Toxic is everywhere anyway. I just want to try, you know?

I just want to love video games again.

Someone famous that I look up to so, so much told me – without knowing that I was even listening, without even knowing that I even exist – that if I enjoy doing something, to just go for it. To just jump in and do it, and if it works then it works, and if it doesn’t, what have I actually lost?

And I’m lucky enough to have four whole offline friends that I’ve mentioned this idea to, and each of them has said encouraging things like I’d have a good voice and face and style for making let’s plays. I honestly don’t know how true that part is, but on my good days I believe them. And they also said that I should go for it, to just try.

So that’s… that’s what I’m doing, I guess. I just want to try.

I know it’s not Star Wars fanart. I know it’s not Star Wars fanfiction. I know it’s not Star Wars meta or essays or ranting about the Sith and the Jedi and the Force. I know it’s not what y’all want from me. And that’s utterly terrifying. I’m bracing myself to be alone on the internet again, because I know that when I dive headfirst into this thing, it’ll eat away into the time that I normally might be spending doing writing or art, and it’s going to be something no one else wants to see and no one signed up for. And that’s partly why it’s taken me so very, very long to get started.

The other part is more physical. Of course as soon as I decide that I’m going to put my face on a camera is when my entire face goes to shit. I’m currently waiting on a potential diagnosis for mouth cancer, while already dealing with a severe jaw infection that’s causing my teeth and gums to rot inside my mouth. They already took part of my jaw, I’m missing teeth, others are turning black, if I open my mouth even just a little it is so obvious and I look like a very, very literal zombie. I have never been more grateful that masks are socially acceptable. I have a series of twelve appointments scheduled to treat this shit now that I have dental and health insurance (goodbye paycheque), and I might qualify for reconstruction surgery too. But that doesn’t really help how I look right now.

So I just can’t bring myself to start this project just yet. I’ve been sitting on it for months now with all the other pieces in place, but I just. Can’t. Start. It’s driving me crazy, because I want to start so badly. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel like I’ve already wasted so much time, because I haven’t even done anything else in the meantime. I haven’t done hardly any art or fanfic, nothing. My anxiety is spiking so high right now because I have all these expectations of myself, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve been told that I could just start without a camera or wear a mask on screen, and I’ve actually done some recording doing exactly that, but I just… can’t seem to make anything I want to finalize.

It’s also frustrating because I have no way of uploading anything at home. I’ll have to go over to my partner’s house which is nearly an hour’s drive away in order to get internet good enough to upload videos, which means that upload schedules are going to be shiiiiiit and that’s also frustrating.

But. But. BUT. I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly. I want to share let’s plays and experience a love of video games with other people. I want to actually play games with other people too. I also just acquired a piano keyboard, and I want to play again on the regular because I miss it so much. I used to play piano for hours every single day, it’s so relaxing and fun, maybe I can post that too. Maybe I can post let’s draws or something, where I ask y’all what to draw and then make a video of me drawing it while bullshitting to the camera I don’t know it sounds like fun. Maybe I can post videos of my cooking because the shit I make seems to be everyone’s favourite thing on instagram, and maybe I can take my camera with me when I go to the ocean or hike up into the middle of nowhere in the mountains and film how beautiful everything is up there. Or maybe I can do none of that and just focus on one thing, I honestly have no idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I just… I want to try. I just want to try.

I don’t know where any of this is going anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to messages, or opened up commissions. I’m sorry that this isn’t what y’all wanted. I’m still going to continue drawing and writing, I’m still going to be around, I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how prolific I’m going to be and I have no idea even when I’ll start uploading videos, to be honest. But I just. I’m just gonna try. It might still take me a while but I’m gonna try. Wish me luck. I love y’all.

#long post #psa #sarc speaks #sarc speaks a LOT #3k words worth of a LOT #I'm so sorry #OTL