#How to center text in word 10

[nevvdrinksteaa]

PLEASE Spencer answering a work call in the middle of sex??? Super smutty

just wanna say that this is my first request and it makes me feel special so thank you !!! hopefully you like this <3

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn with small plot, afab reader, fingering, p in v sex, post prison spence, riding, doggy style, and missionary (yall were busy), spitting kink !!, spanking (once?), face slapping (i’m not sorry), slight oral (f receiving), lots of pet names (baby, angel, pretty girl), let me know if i missed anything !!

word count: 1.8k (got a little carried away)

also note to everyone- y’all absolutely devoured my spencer post the other day, a little less than 800 notes last i checked, and i just want to say i was very caught off guard and appreciate it so much !!

+ i apologize for the overuse of commas & very limited vocabulary,, i feel like i used the same 10 words smh

+ NOT PROOF READ !!

~~~

“i was able to talk to the brass about getting the week off. the past few weeks have been tough and i think we all need a well deserved break.”

you were all gathered in the round table room for a meeting emily called. in the past two weeks, the team had been assigned three back to back cases; which meant three different unsubs, three different cities, and three different hotel rooms. you hadn’t slept in your own bed in fifteen days, already feeling giddy at the thought of snuggling up in your bed, binge watching mindless reality tv, and fueling yourself with nothing but sweet treats.

matt was the first to speak, already standing up gathering his things from the table, “as much as i love you all i’m going to rush home to the wife and kids, i miss their little faces”

you all followed suit, collecting all of your belongings and saying your goodbyes, all of you raving about your week off plans. you walked to your desk, grabbing your bag and keys. you walked towards the elevator, pressing the down button, watching it slowly fall from floor 10 to floor 9, before tapping your foot, slightly agitated about how long it seemed to be taking.

you heard footsteps heading your way, small taps on sneakers on the slick marble floor, before felt a slight nudge at your side “you know, being mad at it won’t make it work any faster”

you chuckle looking up, making eye contact with spencer before giving him a small grin. “i’m just really ready to get home.”

the elevator doors open, spencer waved his hand up, allowing you to go first, before following you in and pressing the main lobby button. “you in such a rush because you have a hot date to get to?”

you looked up at him and grinned, you felt spencer’s hand move to your back, rubbing the center in small circles with your thumb. you felt your face get hot and you allowed yourself to slightly lean into his touch. the elevator stopped at the lobby, a small chime signaling the doors opening, and you felt spencer’s hand fall back to his side before you both stepped out of the box.

you both made your way to the parking garage, spencer walking you to your car before he headed towards the station to take the subway. you got to your car, unlocking it and throwing your purse inside before looking up at him with a slight smirk “text me when you’re on your way”

he shook his head and laughed as he gave you a small wave goodbye and headed towards the subway.

~~~

it had only been three days since you were given the week off, enjoying the company of spencer in your bed two thirds of those nights. he texted you the same night as the encounter in the parking garage, eager to see you in a private setting.

“look how pretty you look sitting on my cock”

you were straddling him, your head thrown back with both hands on his shoulders as you tried to keep a quick pace. he had his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. you felt him hit your sweet spot every time you made your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.

“i love when you use me like this, getting yourself off like a good girl”

you couldn’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. you felt a slight burning in your thighs and you knew spencer’s shoulders held tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip had become. you felt one of spencer’s hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.

he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes. you looked at him and grinned, fucked out and eager before you felt a sudden surge against your cheek before he let his hand rest there, rubbing his thumb to ease the pain.

“you gonna cum for me angel?”

“fuck- yes spence, i’m so- so close” you couldn’t even hear the words coming out of your mouth, your heartbeat beating so loud your hearing going out.

you moved your head down pushing your forehead to spencer’s with your eyes tight.

“cum for me baby, wanna feel you tighten around my cock.”

you felt that tight feeling in your stomach, the mix of his skilled fingers and his thick cock rubbing against your walls caused your breath to stop in your throat, your release making you see stars. you stopped your movement, breathing heavily as you leaned down into spencer. you felt soft kisses on your head and face, peppering you all over.

“did so good for me baby, love watching you use me”

you smiled against his neck, starting to do your own kissing. you felt his breath hitch when you found the sweet spot behind his ear, the small mole behind it always guiding you to the exact spot. you took your time, sucking and biting at the spot, grinding your hips, ready to keep going.

spencer gave your thigh a quick tap, before telling you to bend over. you were quick to roll over, propping yourself up on your hands and knees before slowly wiggling yourself back and forth to him.

you felt a sharp pain on your ass, a slight stinging feeling before you felt a tight grip run through your hair. you felt your body being pulled tightly to his, his chest flushed against your back. he moved one of his hands to your chest, a his fingers glazing your nipple, his other moving to your neck, pushing his thumb and middle finger to just the right spot to apply pressure.

“i let you use me, now it’s my turn to use you angel” spencer had leaned down to your ear, kissing your jaw before pushing you back down onto the bed.

spencer leaned down slightly, gripping your ass with both hands before spreading them. he let a trail of spit fall to your eager hole, before he rubbed it onto your pussy, giving your clit extra attention.

you moaned and pushed back into his touch before you felt him enter you quick and unforgiving, your ass jiggling with every move of his hips.

“fuck- so fucking deep” you arched your back, begging your body to somehow take him deeper. you felt his firm calloused hands rub against your back before settling into a position on your hips, his thumbs pressing small bruises into your skin.

“taking me so fuck-”

spencer’s voice was cut off by his phone ringing, vibrating on the nightstand beside you, and you felt his hips slow down, letting out a soft sigh as he was considering stopping completely.

you felt him hesitate but needed him to keep going, pushing your hips back into his trying to keep both of your focus.

“spence, please don’t stop” your voice still unsteady, “just ignore it”

spencer pulled out of you, and you let out a whine as the loss of contact. you rolled yourself over, making yourself comfortable on the pillows expecting him to walk away to return the call.

instead he leaned back over you and pulled you into a deep kiss, holding your face in both hands. your lips parting slightly when you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, allowing your tongues to meet.

spencer grabbed his dick, rubbing over your clit before he lined himself up with you, gasping when he pushed himself in.

“you’re so fucking perfect angel”

he pulled away, lifting your legs up to your shoulders and latching his hands to your thighs. he found himself moving slow and deep, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him.

you moved your hands to play with your nipples, rolling the hard buds between your finger tips. he bent down, pushing his weight into you, almost like he was folding you. he pooled spit into his mouth before he let it go to your clit, moving his hand to the bundle of nerves.

“want you to cum again for me pretty girl, want one more before i fill you up”

you let out a moan, sighing before you went to speak “gonna fill me-”

you were cut off by the phone ringing again, the buzzing sound making you forget your thoughts. spencer dropped your thighs and leaned over before giving you a quick kiss before he reached over to grab phone.

“spencer do not answer that”

he moved his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion “it’s emily”

you rolled your eyes, ready to kick him out and finish yourself off before heading to bed when you felt him move again. he moved his hand to cover your mouth before answering the phone.

“doctor reid”

you felt yourself get wetter, the sound of your slick filling the room, your moan mumbled behind his hand. spencer’s motion was relentless, his pace quick and brutal, jabbing your sweet spot with every push.

“i thought we were getting the week off”

your leg was lifted up, making the angle even deeper and you felt your eyes roll back, out of pleasure or annoyance you couldn’t tell. there was no way you were getting called in.

“i can get a hold of her for you, i remember her mentioning something about having a date this week”

you grinned, giggling behind his hand before spencer moved the phone to hold it on his shoulder, letting his now free hand to move back down. he never took his eyes off you, holding a shit eating grin as he felt you squeezing him tighter, squirming at how close you were. you furrowed your brows and pinched your eyes shut.

“i’ll be there in an hour”

you heard the phone beep, signaling the call was disconnected. spencer moved his hand away from your mouth down to your neck, cursing as he heard you gasp.

“did so good for me pretty girl”

his hips stopped deep inside you as you felt his cock twitch, filling you up. he groaned as he felt you cumming again, keeping his thumb in place to help your orgasm finish and you let a loud moan out in response. spencer gave you a long kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before he trailed his lips down your neck. he pulled himself out of you, grinning at the soft sigh you let out. he kept his lips on your body, trailing them down your stomach before reaching your thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.

he moved his tongue and licked a long strip up your pussy, sucking on your clit before pulling up to look at you, shit eating grin on his face. “we’ve got roughly 30 minutes, that’s enough time for me to help you clean up, right angel?”

[venusveil]

Random astrology observations.

(My personal observations what I think)

✎ Taurus Moons be like Comfort > everything else.

✎ A Gemini Has 25 group chats but can’t reply to a single text you sent two weeks ago.

✎ Venus in Sagittarius Can love you from afar but don’t suffocate them or they’re gone.

✎ one think I noticed that Scorpio Sun with Sagittarius Venus is like they'll cling to you when they're feeling spicy but when that's over "who are you?"

✎ Never met a Pisces who doesn't have a issue with sleep. Either sleeps all day and night or no sleep at night. wakes up at 2 or 3 pm.

✎ Moon in Scorpio craves deep emotional (and physical) intimacy. Casual flings leave them feeling empty but they’ll never admit it.

✎You think you had the worse break up. Until your ex and you have 8th house synastry. And if you survived that? My strong babe you can do anything in life.

✎ by the way 8th house synastry reminds me of bad romance - lady gaga.

✎ My 8th house is in Taurus and I realized I can't be friends with a Taurus male. It's either we're a love/hate couple or nothing. No in between.

✎ Leo Needs constant admiration but pretens they hate being the center of attention (yeah right).

✎ I never wanna pick a fight with a Gemini Mars. I'll end up crying screaming vomiting. They'll hit you with words. will make you lose your sleep doubting your own intelligence.

✎ Sagittarius Mercury be like "let me teach you something" while offending you. "Why are you so stupid?" Probably gives (unwanted, nobody asked for) advice like It's a love language.

✎ 12th house Venus / Mars may attract people by accident then blame them for falling for them.

✎ One time I tried telling a Pisces Mars they're wrong. And he straight up was like "yeah I know I'm a bad person" ok? Thanks for knowing that.

✎ Aries Venus wants the hottest person in the room, the one looks hard to attract but when they do, They'll get bored before the 2nd date.

✎ Does Capricorn moon even cry? Once a year?

✎ Arguing with a Taurus Mercury in the 3rd house is like screaming at a brick wall. You'll be tired by the time they change their mind.

✎ Sun in Pisces/6th house is like you think working 9-10 is death. Also cries if there's no routine.

✎ I love people with Jupiter in Gemini or 9th house Jupiter. They knows a little about everything won't shut up.

✎ Sagittarius Mercury as a child I was a chatterbox talking non stop. And I've my big cousin sister (she's a Capricorn) telling me to stfu.

✎ Pluto in the 1st house : you walk into a room triggering at least 5 people's childhood trauma.

✎ Neptune in the 7th house attracts emotionally unavailable people.

✎ Jupiter in Scorpio people talks like a sexy cult leader. Can convince you to ruin your life in seconds.

✎ Neptune in the 4th house thinks their childhood was either a fairy tail or a horror movie - no in between.

✎ Mars in Scorpio knows exactly how to ruin you emotionally also sexually. And they will.

✎ Mars in the 4th house fights in the kitchen brings up childhood trauma mid-argument.

✎ You're not dating a Scorpio Venus you made a deal with the devil. Good luck moving on. Probably casting a spell to make you obsessed.

✎ Chiron in Scorpio heals people but breaks them first.

✎ Pluto in the 12th house knows the vibe is off 3 weeks ago

✎ Pluto in the 3rd house can destroy someone’s sense of self in a paragraph… and then say “I was just being honest.”

[what-even-is-thiss]

Free or Cheap Mandarin Chinese Learning Resources Because You Can't Let John Cena One Up You Again

I will update this list as I learn of any more useful ones. If you want general language learning resources check out this other post. This list is Mandarin specific. Find lists for other specific languages here.

For the purposes of this list "free" means something that is either totally free or has a useful free tier. "Cheap" is a subscription under $10USD a month, a software license or lifetime membership purchase under $100USD, or a book under $30USD. If you want to suggest a resource for this list please suggest ones in that price range that are of decent quality and not AI generated.

WEBSITES

Dong Chinese - A website with lessons, a pinyin guide, a dictionary, and various videos and practice tests. With a free account you're only allowed to do one lesson every 12 hours. To do as many lessons as quickly as you want it costs $10 a month or $80 a year.

Domino Chinese - A paid website with video based lessons from absolute beginner to college level. They claim they can get you ready to get a job in China. They offer a free trial and after that it's $5 a month or pay what you can if you want to support their company.

Chinese Education Center - This is an organization that gives information to students interested in studying abroad in China. They have free text based lessons for beginners on vocab, grammar, and handwriting.

Pleco Dictionary App - This is a very popular dictionary app on both iOS and Android. It has a basic dictionary available for free but other features can be purchased individually or in bundles. A full bundle that has what most people would want is about $30 but there are more expensive options with more features.

MIT OpenCourseWare Chinese 1 2 3 4 5 6 - These are actual archived online courses from MIT available for free. You will likely need to download them onto your computer.

Learn Chinese Web Application From Cambridge University - This is a free downloadable file with Mandarin lessons in a PC application. There's a different program for beginner and intermediate.

Learn Chinese Everyday - A free word a day website. Every day the website posts a different word with pronunciation, stroke order, and example sentences. There's also an archive of free downloadable worksheets related to previous words featured on the website.

Chinese Boost - A free website and blog with beginner lessons and articles about tips and various resources to try.

Chinese Forums - An old fashioned forum website for people learning Chinese to share resources and ask questions. It's still active as of when I'm making this list.

Du Chinese - A free website and an app with lessons and reading and listening practice with dual transcripts in both Chinese characters and pinyin. They also have an English language blog with tips, lessons, and information on Chinese culture.

YOUTUBE CHANNELS

Chinese For Us - A channel that provides free video lessons for beginners. The channel is mostly in English.

Herbin Mandarin - A channel with a variety of lessons for beginners. The channel hasn't uploaded in a while but there's a fairly large archive of lessons to watch. The channel is mainly in English.

Mandarin Blueprint - This channel is by a couple of guys who also run a paid website. However on their YouTube channel there's a lot of free videos with tips about how to go about learning Chinese, pronunciation and writing tips, and things of that nature. The channel is mainly in English.

Blabla Chinese - A comprehensible input channel with content about a variety of topics for beginner to intermediate. The video descriptions are in English but the videos themselves are all in Mandarin.

Lazy Chinese - A channel aimed at intermediate learners with videos on general topics, grammar, and culture. They also have a podcast. The channel has English descriptions but the videos are all in Mandarin.

Easy Mandarin - A channel associated with the easy languages network that interviews people on the street in Taiwan about everyday topics. The channel has on screen subtitles in traditional characters, pinyin, and English.

StickynoteChinese - A relatively new channel but it already has a decent amount of videos. Jun makes videos about culture and personal vlogs in Mandarin. The channel is aimed at learners from beginner to upper intermediate.

Story Learning Chinese With Annie - A comprehensible input channel almost entirely in Mandarin. The host teaches through stories and also makes videos about useful vocabulary words and cultural topics. It appears to be aimed at beginner to intermediate learners.

LinguaFlow Chinese - Another relatively new channel but they seem to be making new videos regularly. The channel is aimed at beginner to intermediate learners and teaches and provides listening practice with video games. The channel is mostly in Mandarin.

Lala Chinese - A channel with tips on grammar and pronunciation with the occasional vlog for listening practice, aimed at upper beginner to upper intermediate learners. Some videos are all in Mandarin while others use a mix of English and Mandarin. Most videos have dual language subtitles onscreen.

Grace Mandarin Chinese - A channel with general information on the nitty gritty of grammar, pronunciation, common mistakes, slang, and useful phrases for different levels of learners. Most videos are in English but some videos are fully in Mandarin.

READING PRACTICE

HSK Reading - A free website with articles sorted into beginner, intermediate, and advanced. Every article has comprehension questions. You can also mouse over individual characters and see the pinyin and possible translations. The website is in a mix of English and Mandarin.

chinesegradedreader.com - A free website with free short readings up to HSK level 3 or upper intermediate. Each article has an explaination at the beginning of key vocabulary words in English and you can mouse over individual characters to get translations.

Mandarin Companion - This company sells books that are translated and simplified versions of classic novels as well as a few originals for absolute beginners. They are available in both traditional and simplified Chinese. Their levels don't appear to be aligned with any HSK curriculum but even their most advanced books don't have more than 500 individual characters according to them so they're likely mostly for beginners to advanced beginners. New paperbacks seem to usually be $14 but cheaper used copies, digital copies, and audiobooks are also available. The website is in English.

Graded Chinese Readers - Not to be confused with chinese graded reader, this is a website with information on different graded readers by different authors and different companies. The website tells you what the book is about, what level it's for, whether or not it uses traditional or simplified characters, and gives you a link to where you can buy it on amazon. They seem to have links to books all the way from HSK 1 or beginner to HSK 6 or college level. A lot of the books seem to be under $10 but as they're all from different companies your mileage and availability may vary. The website is in English.

Mandarin Bean - A website with free articles about Chinese culture and different short stories. Articles are sorted by HSK level from 1 to 6. The website also lets you switch between traditional or simplified characters and turn the pinyin on or off. It also lets you mouse over characters to get a translation. They have a relatively expensive paid tier that gives you access to video lessons and HSK practice tests and lesson notes but all articles and basic features on the site are available on the free tier without an account. The website is in a mix of Mandarin and English.

Mandarin Daily News - This is a daily newspaper from Taiwan made for children so the articles are simpler, have illustrations and pictures, and use easier characters. As it's for native speaker kids in Taiwan, the site is completely in traditional Chinese.

New Tong Wen Tang for Chrome or Firefox - This is a free browser extension that can convert traditional characters to simplified characters or vice versa without a need to copy and paste things into a separate website.

PODCASTS

Melnyks Chinese - A podcast for more traditional audio Mandarin Chinese lessons for English speakers. The link I gave is to their website but they're also available on most podcatcher apps.

Chinese Track - Another podcast aimed at learning Mandarin but this one goes a bit higher into lower intermediate levels.

Dimsum Mandarin - An older podcast archive of 30 episodes of dialogues aimed at beginner to upper beginner learners.

Dashu Mandarin - A podcast run by three Chinese teachers aimed at intermediate learners that discusses culture topics and gives tips for Mandarin learners. There are also male teachers on the podcast which I'm told is relatively rare for Mandarin material aimed at learners and could help if you're struggling to understand more masculine speaking patterns.

Learning Chinese Through Stories - A storytelling podcast mostly aimed at intermediate learners but they do have some episodes aimed at beginner or advanced learners. They have various paid tiers for extra episodes and learning material on their patreon but there's still a large amount of episodes available for free.

Haike Mandarin - A conversational podcast in Taiwanese Mandarin for intermediate learners. Every episode discusses a different everyday topic. The episode descriptions and titles are entirely in traditional Chinese characters. The hosts provide free transcripts and other materials related to the episodes on their blog.

Learn Chinese With Ju - A vocabulary building podcast aimed at intermediate learners. The podcast episodes are short at around 4-6 minutes and the host speaks about a variety of topics in a mix of English and Mandarin.

xiaoyuzhou fm - An iOS app for native speakers to listen to podcasts. I’m told it has a number of interactive features. If you have an android device you’ll likely have to do some finagling with third party apps to get this one working. As this app is for native speakers, the app is entirely in simplified Chinese.

Apple Podcast directories for Taiwan and China - Podcast pages directed towards users in those countries/regions.

SELF STUDY TEXTBOOKS AND DICTIONARIES

Learning Chinese Characters - This series is sorted by HSK levels and each volume in the series is around $11. Used and digital copies can also be found for cheaper.

HSK Standard Course Textbooks - These are textbooks designed around official Chinese government affiliated HSK tests including all of the simplified characters, grammar, vocab, and cultural knowledge necessary to pass each test. There are six books in total and the books prices range wildly depending on the level and the seller, going for as cheap as $14 to as expensive as $60 though as these are pretty common textbooks, used copies and cheaper online shops can be found with a little digging. The one I have linked to here is the HSK 1 textbook. Some textbook sellers will also bundle them with a workbook, some will not.

Chinese Made Easy for Kids - Although this series is aimed at children, I'm told that it's also very useful for adult beginners. There's a large number of textbooks and workbooks at various levels. The site I linked to is aimed at people placing orders in Hong Kong but the individual pages also have links to various other websites you can buy them from in other countries. The books range from $20-$35 but I include them because some of them are cheaper and they seem really easy to find used copies of.

Reading and Writing Chinese - This book contains guides on all 2300 characters in the HSK texts as of 2013. Although it is slightly outdated, it's still useful for self study and is usually less than $20 new. Used copies are also easy to find.

Basic Chinese by Mcgraw Hill - This book also fuctions as a workbook so good quality used copies can be difficult to find. The book is usually $20 but it also often goes on sale on Amazon and they also sell a cheaper digital copy.

Chinese Grammar: A beginner's guide to basic structures - This book goes over beginner level grammar concepts and can usually be found for less than $20 in print or as low as $2 for a digital copy.

Collins Mandarin Chinese Visual Dictionary - A bilingual English/Mandarin visual dictionary that comes with a link to online audio files. A new copy goes for about $14 but used and digital versions are available.

Merriam-Webster's Chinese to English Dictionary - In general Merriam Websters usually has the cheapest decent quality multilingual dictionaries out there, including for Mandarin Chinese. New editions usually go for around $8 each while older editions are usually even cheaper.

(at the end of the list here I will say I had a difficult time finding tv series specifically made for learners of Mandarin Chinese so if you know of any that are made for teenage or adult learners or are kids shows that would be interesting to adults and are free to watch without a subscription please let me know and I will add them to the list. There's a lot of Mandarin language TV that's easy to find but what I'm specifically interested in for these lists are free to watch series made for learners and/or easy to understand kids shows originally made in the target language that are free and easy to access worldwide)

[demie90s]

That’s My Point Guard

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ PAIGE BUECKERS X READER ꒱ 🍒 ꒱ MASTERLIST

MORE

⭑ pairing: Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

⭑ summary: You’re out on injury reserve, but that doesn’t stop you from showing up post-game in full team wife mode—flowers, smug energy, and a crowd full of cameras catching it all.

⭑ genre: Fluff, chaos, public affection, team teasing

⭑ warnings: Slight language, unserious behavior, light PDA

⭑ word count: ~ 0.7k

The post-game press conference room was buzzing. Reporters scrambled, flashbulbs clicked, and Paige was already seated front and center, still glowing—sweaty curls pinned back, legs crossed like she didn’t just drop 20 and 10. UConn had just taken a hard-fought win, and she was calm, collected, politely answering questions like a pro.

Until the door opened again.

A beat passed before everyone turned their heads.

You walked in slow—still in your tracksuit, knee brace visible but not slowing your stride. In your arms? A ridiculous bouquet of flowers—tulips, roses, something that looked expensive and loud. You wore your shades indoors like you had somewhere better to be, even though you knew damn well you cleared your whole schedule just for this.

The cameras clicked faster. Paige glanced up—and for the first time in twenty minutes, she cracked.

A half-smile pulled at her lips, subtle, but real.

One of the reporters whispered, “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” another muttered, lowering their mic. “That’s her.”

You didn’t bother asking for a mic. You just walked over and slid in next to Paige like the seat had been reserved. You dropped the flowers into her lap and leaned toward the mic like you were the one getting interviewed.

“Just wanted to say congrats to my girl,” you said, voice smooth, unmoved. “Twenty points, ten assists, four ankles snatched, one heart fully owned.”

The room howled.

Paige tilted her head and bit back a smile, looking down at the flowers like they were offensive. “You are so unserious.”

“And yet, I still showed up with gifts,” you grinned. “Unlike some of these people in here asking weak-ass questions.”

Coach Geno from the side, half in frame: “Seriously.”

The UConn media staff looked like they wanted to speak up, but didn’t. The reporters were losing it—some were laughing, others just recording silently like they’d struck gold.

One brave soul asked, “Y/N, how’s recovery going?”

You leaned into the mic again like it owed you rent. “God’s strongest soldier, baby. Still cute. Still loyal. Still watching from the bench like a jealous wife. Couldn’t let her slay on court and not show up.”

The crowd laughed again. Paige just sighed and shook her head. “Can someone please get her out of here?”

“No,” you answered, straight-faced. “I’m the morale coach now. I motivate. I hydrate. I show up pretty with flowers. That’s all that matters.”

Another reporter asked Paige, “How do you feel about having such strong sideline support?”

You didn’t let her answer.

“Let me handle this, baby.” You turned, still facing forward.

“She loves it. I keep her humble. Make her smoothies. Post her highlights with corny captions like ‘mine fr’ and ’anyone else breathing can stop now.’ I’m what they call crucial support.”

The UConn team Instagram immediately posted a story:

📸: Y/N crashes Paige’s post-game like a true sideline baddie.

💬: “Crucial support.”

Someone from the back mumbled, “This is why she shouldn’t be mic’d ever again.”

Meanwhile, your girl tried to hide her laugh behind her hand. You could see her biting the inside of her cheek to stay composed.

Another reporter—clearly one of the brave ones—asked, “So… is this official now?”

You tilted your head. “Was it not?”

Paige leaned into the mic, voice dry. “It’s always been official. She’s just loud about it.”

You smirked like you’d just won something. “And don’t you forget it.”

Across the gym, the rest of the team was already texting the group chat:

📱 Ice: “Mom and Dad are fighting again but like… cute fighting.”

📱 KK: “Can someone mute Y/N. She’s hijacking the whole media session.”

📱 Ayanna: “Paige better propose with a ring AND a press pass.”

📱 Jana: “I need what they have. Minus the sass. Maybe.”

Later that night, the clip of you sliding into that press seat would hit TikTok and rack up over 200k likes in less than two hours.

The top comments:

👤 @uconndynasty: “nah this is couple GOALS”

👤 @ballislove: “I want someone to crash my life with flowers like this.”

👤 @benchwarmbaddie: “Still watching from the bench like a jealous wife is the quote of the

[witherby]

Please help a starving Anon..... I need more Mother Hen Hal from you...The way you write him and the characters are so good and perfect(idc if anyone disagrees), i am dying../silly/nf

It can have anything you wish to add, maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort (let's not forget the queers(BatLantern) too/verysilly)/lh

Yeah, you can absolutely have more mother hen Hal!!! This one is a little early in the relationship, pre-Flittermouse, and Dick-centric.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen (Dick)

"B! Thanks for coming to get —"

Dick stops and tilts his head as the window of the Lambo rolls down. It's not Bruce, here to pick him up from a celebration at Titan's Tower he was just a smidge too drunk to drive himself home from.

It's Hal.

"Hi, kid," he greets. "Bruce was asleep when you texted. I told him to chill out and I'd get you instead."

"Oh, hi," Dick says, a little off-kilter. His grin only wanes a little. "Yeah. Okay."

He walks around the car and climbs into the front passenger seat, brows furrowed. It's the first time they've been alone together since Bruce told the boys that they started seeing each other.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have you eaten in a while? Might hit a drive-through before we get back. My treat as long as you don't tell Alfred."

Dick nods slowly, staring at Hal like he can't quite figure everything out. Hal just shoots him an easy smile, then focuses his attention on the road.

They're quiet for a while, the radio playing some top 10 hit softly through the speakers neither one of them recognizes. When Hal pulls up to order them some food (and how curious that he knows Dick's usual) then waves away Dick's effort to pay, the man can't help but say something.

"You don't... have to do that."

"It's like thirty bucks, champ. I've got it," Hal chuckles.

"I don't mean the food."

Hal looks at Dick curiously. It's probably the fact that he's still pretty sloshed, but he feels especially vulnerable in the car with him, and can't quite keep his thoughts to himself.

"You don't have to pretend to care about Bruce's kids just because you're dating Bruce." Even as he says it, he knows it was mean and dismissive. Dick chews on the inside of his cheek and can't figure out how to take that back, so he stops talking.

Hal doesn't respond. Dick can't make himself look at Hal's face, so he fiddles with the Nightwing charm dangling off his cellphone.

"Here's your meal, sir. Enjoy," says a fast food employee. Hal thanks her quickly, then pulls into a parking lot and kills the engine. Dick listens to him rustle through the bag and sort out what belongs to whom for a minute, then gently takes his portion from him when it's offered.

"Hey," says Hal. Dick pretends he's too preoccupied with opening the sauce packet for his chicken nuggets to look up. "Okay. I'd probably be a little skittish after dropping a bomb like that, too. So, just listen for a sec, okay?"

"Kay," he mumbles through a mouthful of fries, trying very hard not to feel like he's eight years old and sitting in Commissioner Gordon's office, waiting to find out if Bruce will assume guardianship and take him home, waiting to see if he'd be accepted or rejected.

"I think Bruce is it for me."

Hmm. Okay, not the words he expected to hear, but Dick is listening.

"You've probably heard that from his exes before. Something about Bruce is just...captivating. He's got his own gravitational pull, and I'm not interested in getting knocked outta orbit."

Hal pops a couple fries in his mouth. Dick sees his shoulders shrug in his periphery.

"I'm in love with him, is the point. Have been for a few years now, but I didn't think it was reciprocal until that battle in Coast City. But Bruce isn't just Bruce, is he?"

Hal reaches across the center console to gently squeeze Dick's knee.

"He's Bruce, and Dick, and Jason, and Tim, and Damian. He's got a whole gaggle of wonderful sons I'd love to get to know."

"We've worked together tons of times before," Dick says. He's barely picking at his food, too busy trying to figure out Hal's point.

"Sure. I've worked with Nightwing a lot. But that's not all you are. I don't really know anything about Dick Grayson, and I'd really like to."

Hal pulls his hand away and picks up his burger to take a bite.

"All this to say...I know you guys are mostly grown. You're used to having one parent and don't really need another one, and, damn, I don't know the first thing about any of that. But I'm in this for the long haul, and you can rely on me. I don't want any of you believing you're just an afterthought to me. Okay?"

Oh. Oh.

In lieu of an answer, and also because his throat feels too tight to speak, Dick just nods and goes back to eating. They finish their food in silence and Hal gets out to dispose of the trash, then turns the engine again to take him the rest of the way home. As he parks and they leave the garage, Dick throws his arms around Hal. He pretends the stinging in his eyes is some weird effect from the alcohol when Hal hugs him back just as tight.

"Goodnight, kid," he murmurs. "Go take a glass of water and some ibuprofen to bed with you for that hangover in the morning."

"Yes, mom," Dick snorts, teasing, but he detours to the kitchen with a shy little grin anyway.

[loucifersbitch]

BuckTommy - you’re such a needy boy

Buck is ready to vibrate out of his skin. It's been four days since he last saw Tommy. FOUR. He feels ridiculous for it, but he needs Tommy. Needs him immediately. They haven't gone more than 24 hours without seeing each other since they got back together two months ago. Four days is HELL.

But the wait is almost over.

Tommy had texted 25 minutes ago that he was leaving Harbor - a 35 minute drive - and Buck hasn't been able to sit still for 24 minutes and counting. He's freshly showered, kneeling in the center of the bed, curls still drying in the cool air from the AC. His bare skin would be pebbling in the chill if he weren't so restless.

Finally, 28 minutes after Tommy first texted, Buck can hear the exhaust of the old truck as it pulls into the driveway. A relieved sigh works its way out from the depths of Buck's soul even as his heart rate picks up in anticipation.

The sound of the engine cuts off, and a few seconds later, Buck hears the lock on the front door click open. He keeps his arms resting at his sides, forcing himself to relax. They're not going to be doing anything crazy - they don't even have a scene planned. They're just Buck and Tommy tonight, and Buck is already so turned on by just the thought of Tommy touching him soon, he might be embarrassed if he had any higher brain function working.

Tommy is doing his usual just-got-home-from-work things - boots off, duffel dropped to the floor, keys on the hook by the door, front door and sliding patio door both locked and double checked - and Buck is about to start whining if Tommy doesn't get his perfect ass in the bedroom in the next 10 seconds.

"Hi, baby," Tommy says, shutting the bedroom door behind himself. Buck can feel Tommy staring at him, looking him over, almost like a caress. "You look so beautiful like this. Always so obedient for me, even when you don't need to be."

"Wanna be good for you, s- Tommy," Buck catches himself at the last second. "Let me?"

He lifts his gaze to Tommy's, gratified when he sees blown pupils and the pure want in Tommy's eyes.

Tommy grabs him by the curls, hauling him in for a kiss. He loses his balance for a moment, but Tommy catches him easily.

"Please," he says in the brief second when Tommy lets him get a breath.

"You're such a needy boy, aren't you, sweetheart," Tommy murmurs lowly, the gravel in his voice going straight to Buck's weeping cock.

"Yes, yeah, please," he babbles, feeling more words build up in his chest. "Please, Tommy, need you. Missed you so much. Need you, ple-"

Tommy cuts him off with a kiss, one giant hand wrapping around the back of Buck's neck, moving him where he wants him. His other hand goes to Buck's cock, stroking with barely-there pressure and ghosting over the head.

"Tell me what you want, baby," Tommy says, forehead pressed against Buck's as he continues stroking, slowly driving Buck insane.

"You." Simple. Factual. Straight to the point. But Tommy raises an eyebrow pointedly, so Buck adds, "Inside me, Tommy. Come on." He affects a pout, and it's silly, but he knows it'll work. "If you don't get that gorgeous dick in me soon, I will explode from lack of Tommy cock."

"That's not a real thing."

"It could be! And then you'd feel bad for killing me because you withheld the healing cure - your dick in my ass."

"You're ridiculous," Tommy snorts, but he's grinning as he strips out of his jeans and flannel. He's hard and almost dripping, and Buck's mouth goes dry at the sight of him, naked and stunning. Tommy stalks toward him, climbing onto the bed, inches from him now. Two steady fingers lift Buck's chin so they're eye to eye. "How do you want it?"

He's thought about this. A lot in the past four days. He leans back, lying down and gesturing for Tommy to close the distance.

"Just like this," he says, Tommy's lips close enough to kiss.

Tommy teases the head of his cock around Buck's rim, occasionally catching, but completely driving Buck crazy. When Tommy finally, finally pushes forward, Buck sees stars. He loves this part - the too-much-not-enough burn as his body adjusts, feeling filled in every possible way.

"There you go," Tommy says as he bottoms out. "Look at you. You take me so well, baby. Just beautiful." Tommy pulls out a few inches, slamming back in, repeating the move. Studying Buck's face, he asks, "Feel okay?"

"S- so good, Tommy. So fucking - oh god, ngkh- just like that."

It's been more than a year since Buck begged Tommy to let him try bottoming, but it's still just as thrilling as that first time. Buck will swear until his dying day that his boyfriend's cock is magic.

He's been so wound up that he's already close, nearing the edge as Tommy hits his prostate sporadically. Then he's being lifted, Tommy settling him in his lap, impaling Buck on his cock. Tommy is everywhere - in him, surrounding him, his cock so far inside Buck that he can almost taste it.

That's how Buck cums, feeling consumed by everything Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, painting their chests and stomachs. He squeezes around Tommy's cock, hears his low groan as his hips stutter right before Tommy cums deep inside him. Buck's cock twitches valiantly at the sensation, but he's spent, the sensitivity already bordering on too much.

As Tommy lays him down gently, pulling out slow and steady, Buck sighs, exhausted but happy. For the first time in four days, his mind is blessedly quiet. And when Tommy gathers him in his arms after a perfunctory wipe down, he drifts off to sleep, content.

[honeydippedfiction]

Hi Cici! Can I request angst/fluff Joe x reader from the pre-relationship prompt no 10. They’ve broken up but they still love each other. Reader’s mom invites Joe to dinner and they reunite after 2 months. Can you make it a happy ending pls?

"Hey, my mom wants to know if you're coming to family dinner tonight?" "Isn't it weird for me to come? We broke up two months ago, baby." "Okay, I'm not going to lie, you're giving me mixed signals. I'm telling her you're coming.”

Ayyye it’s a bad bitch birthday y’all, BIG 24🤪🤪 sorry for not posting yesterday, things got a little crazy. But here’s some Joey to make up for it, love yaaa😚💋

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

#10. "Hey, my mom wants to know if you're coming to family dinner tonight?" "Isn't it weird for me to come? We broke up two months ago, baby." "Okay, I'm not going to lie, you're giving me mixed signals. I'm telling her you're coming.”

Joe Burrow x black!femreader

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

They didn’t fall apart all at once.

No one slammed a door. No one shouted across the kitchen table. There were no ultimatums thrown like grenades, no harsh words hurled in the heat of anger. Instead, it was quiet—the kind of quiet that creeps in like cold air through an open window. The kind you don’t notice at first, until one day you realize you’re shivering.

That was how it ended.

Joe was deep into the off-season grind—film study, conditioning, meetings with coaches, and early press obligations. He kept saying he was fine. That he was just busy. That he was trying to be better.

And Y/N—she was trying too. Trying to be patient, trying not to count how many texts went unanswered. Trying not to take it personally when he forgot the dinner reservation she'd made for their anniversary. Trying to convince herself that love was supposed to bend under pressure. That he’d come back to her when the weight lifted.

But weeks passed. Then more. And with every day, she felt herself slipping from his periphery—like background noise to a life she used to be centered in.

They had their final fight on a Wednesday night.

She had waited for him to come home after practice, her dinner long cold on the stove. She’d spent hours rehearsing how to talk to him gently, how to ask for more without sounding like she was demanding it. But the second he walked through the door, eyes heavy and voice detached, the words scattered.

“You don’t see me anymore,” she’d said quietly, arms folded across her chest.

Joe had stopped mid-step, the key still in his hand.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re here,” she said. “But you’re not with me.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Y/N, I can’t give you all of me right now. You know what’s on the line this season.”

“And what about what’s on the line with us?” she asked, voice cracking under the weight of her restraint. “I’m not asking for your whole career. I’m asking for a place in your life that doesn’t feel optional.”

That hit something tender. He flinched. But then the wall came up. That impenetrable, practiced calm he wore in press conferences and on fourth downs.

“I’m doing the best I can.”

“No, Joe,” she said, tears burning at the edges of her vision, “you’re doing the best you can for you. And I’m just collateral damage.”

The silence after that was louder than any shouting match could’ve been. He didn’t chase her when she walked out. She didn’t call when she packed her overnight bag. Neither of them said goodbye, but they both knew what it meant when days passed and no one reached out.

It was the kind of breakup that didn’t feel like a clean cut. It was a tear—uneven, ragged. The kind you keep running your fingers over, hoping the skin will knit itself back together.

But it didn’t.

Not for a while.

✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧

Two months later, and she could still hear the last thing he said as she closed the door behind her:

“I don’t know how to love you right now.”

And she, broken in ways she didn’t have the words for, had only whispered back:

“Then you don’t get to love me at all.”

✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧

The late summer heat in Cincinnati was starting to soften into something more bearable—less suffocating, more nostalgic. The kind of weather that whispered of changing seasons, even if the days still clung to a sticky kind of warmth. The breeze carried the faintest hint of something crisp, something about to end or maybe about to begin.

Y/N stood barefoot on the concrete balcony of her apartment, her toes curled against the cool surface. The skyline stretched hazy in the distance, the sun dipping behind buildings like it didn’t want to be seen anymore. She cradled her phone loosely in one hand, thumb tracing the edge of the screen, debating—for the fifth time in the last half hour—whether to call him.

Inside, her living room was quiet except for the distant hum of the ceiling fan. Her dinner sat untouched on the coffee table, congealed now, the takeout box slightly ajar. The text from her mother still glowed at the top of her screen like a dare:

“Tell Joseph to come to dinner tonight. I’m making gumbo and peach cobbler.”

No context. No awareness—or maybe just willful ignorance—of the two-month silence between them. As if she hadn’t sobbed into her mother’s arms the night after the breakup. As if Joe Burrow was still part of the family like he’d always been.

She hadn’t answered right away. She’d stared at the message, then scrolled back through old texts she’d never deleted, some of them still marked unread even though she could recite them by heart.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him. That was the problem—she did. Too much. Still.

The phone felt heavier than usual in her hand. Her finger hovered over his name in her contacts—Joey 🏈💬. Stupid nickname. Stupid emoji. She hadn’t changed it.

Then, finally, she sighed and hit Call.

It rang twice.

“Hey,” his voice came through, low and quiet. Familiar, even with the rougher edge that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey,” she echoed, her voice tighter than she meant it to be. She bit the inside of her cheek, suddenly conscious of the stretch of silence folding around them.

There was faint movement on his end—something shifting, a soft thud, maybe the creak of his old leather couch. Then, the sound of him exhaling.

“My mom wanted me to ask if you’re coming to family dinner tonight,” she said at last, her eyes fixed on the pink glow of the skyline. “She’s making gumbo. Peach cobbler too.”

Another pause. Longer. Deeper. She imagined him in that familiar kitchen of his, leaning on the counter, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he didn’t know what to say.

“Isn’t it weird for me to come?” he said, eventually. His voice dipped lower. “We broke up two months ago, baby.”

That word—baby—landed like a pebble tossed into still water. It rippled through her, sudden and unwanted, stirring up everything she had tried to settle.

Y/N blinked hard, gripping the balcony railing.

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie, you’re giving me mixed signals.” Her tone was brisk, a shade too light. “I’m telling her you’re coming.”

She expected him to push back. Say don’t. Say I can’t. But he didn’t. He was quiet for a second, then—

“I’ve missed her cooking,” he said, soft. Almost too soft to hear. “And... I’ve missed you.”

Her breath caught. Her fingers curled tighter around the railing.

“You don’t get to say that, Joe,” she said quietly. “Not unless you mean it.”

There was a rustle on the line. She could almost see him now—jaw clenched, brow furrowed, eyes somewhere on the floor.

“I do mean it.” His voice cracked. Just a little. “I think I always meant it. I just didn’t know what to do with it.”

That stopped her. Her chest ached. She closed her eyes, the breeze brushing loose strands of hair against her cheek.

“You don’t get to act like you’re the only one who didn’t know what to do,” she murmured. “We were both lost, Joe.”

He was silent.

Then: “Can I come early?”

The question hung in the air between them.

She opened her eyes. The sky had shifted to deeper gold. The city looked softer, like it had been smudged at the edges.

“You want to come early?” she repeated.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just us. For a bit. If that’s okay.”

Y/N swallowed. Her pulse thudded in her throat.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

The line went dead.

She stared at the screen, the call log glowing like it knew something she didn’t. Her fingers trembled slightly as she lowered the phone. Inside, her untouched dinner looked sad and irrelevant now.

Y/N walked back in, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. She caught her reflection in the mirror above the couch and paused, brushing her hair back, eyes searching her own face as if trying to remember what he used to see there.

Maybe it was still there.

She changed out of her oversized T-shirt into something more neutral—simple. Familiar. A soft tank and jeans. Nothing that screamed I want you back, but not indifferent either.

Then she waited.

And twenty-three minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧

The Burrow name didn’t exactly go unnoticed in the city, and yet somehow, It was nearly dusk when Joe turned onto the quiet street, unnoticed, where Y/N’s childhood home stood. The tires of his SUV crunched against the curb as he parked across from the house, letting the engine idle for a few seconds longer than necessary.

The porch light glowed faintly against the darkening sky, casting long shadows across the yard. Through the front window, he could see the flicker of movement—people laughing, passing plates, a burst of someone’s high-pitched voice.

It had been two months. And yet, pulling up to this house felt like a reflex. He’d spent entire holidays here. Off-seasons. Weeknights. Lazy Sundays. Y/N’s mom treated him like a second son, and her cousins never passed up an opportunity to challenge him to a basketball game in the driveway.

But this was different.

This was after.

Joe took a breath, then another, resting his forehead briefly against the steering wheel. His fingers flexed around the neck of the wine bottle he’d brought as a peace offering. He wasn’t sure who it was really for—Y/N’s mom, or Y/N herself.

He climbed out of the car and made his way up the porch steps.

The door opened before he could knock.

“Joseph!” Y/N’s mom greeted him like no time had passed at all. She pulled him into a hug that squeezed the breath out of him. “Lord, you still don’t call me enough.”

“Sorry, Mrs. L,” Joe said with a sheepish grin. “I brought wine?”

“You trying to bribe me?” she asked, plucking the bottle from his hands. “It’s working.”

Inside, the air was rich with spices—onion, celery, garlic, and heat. The gumbo simmered in a cast iron pot on the stove, and laughter echoed from the living room. The house felt alive.

He stepped into the kitchen, heart stuttering when he saw her.

Y/N stood at the stove, stirring the pot with one hand, her face turned slightly toward the doorway like she’d felt him arrive. She wore a faded Spelman sweatshirt and jeans, her curls piled loosely atop her head. The sight of her sent something crashing through his chest—grief, want, familiarity.

She turned slowly, her gaze meeting his.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft, careful.

“Hey,” he replied.

He hadn’t seen her in person since the breakup. Not really. There had been a brush of arms at a team event she helped organize. A glimpse of her car leaving his building. But not this—proximity, silence, her voice spoken only for him.

The tension between them was thick enough to chew.

Joe stayed out of the way during dinner, letting the family orbit him while Y/N moved through the room with practiced grace. Her cousins grilled him about the season. Her aunt complimented his posture. Her mom forced second and third helpings onto his plate. It was familiar, even comforting.

But beneath it all was the undercurrent—the absence they had tried to hide. Y/N laughed, but she didn’t look at him when she did. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were in the same room, breathing the same air, but the space between them held a history neither of them had figured out how to put down.

✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧

The table was set like it always had been—cloth napkins folded with care, the good dishes pulled from the cabinet where they were only ever used for holidays or homecomings. The gumbo simmered in the center, rich with heat and spice, and the peach cobbler cooled on the counter, its sugar crust still bubbling at the edges. The dining room glowed under the soft dome light, as if trying to pretend this was a normal evening, like dozens before it.

Y/N sat across from Joe. Her mother took the head of the table, ladling out generous portions as if she hadn’t just dropped a grenade into the calm of their lives by inviting her daughter’s ex-boyfriend to dinner without warning.

“So, Joseph,” her mom said, tone light but watchful. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

Joe looked up from his bowl, spoon poised mid-air. He swallowed whatever he'd been about to say, then offered a polite, measured smile.

“I’ve been good. Busy. Camp started a few weeks ago, so… full days. A lot of film. A lot of lifting. You know how it is.”

Her mother nodded, scooping more rice onto her plate. “Of course. You look tired, though. You getting enough rest?”

Y/N watched him glance briefly her way—just a flick of the eyes, quick and unsure.

“Trying to,” he said. “There’s always a lot on my mind this time of year.”

Y/N’s mother made a small sound of agreement, something between a hum and a sigh. “Well, I hope you’re eating enough. You always forget to feed yourself when the season starts. Y/N used to nag you about that constantly.”

“Still does,” Joe said, before he could stop himself.

The words hung there. They were soft. Not accusatory, not hopeful. Just… factual. Like a line from a shared history that neither of them could quite stop quoting.

Y/N pressed her lips together, reached for her glass of water, and took a long sip.

Y/N glanced at him without meaning to. He looked… different. The kind of different you only notice when you haven’t been allowed to look for a while. His hair was a little shorter, jaw sharper from preseason grind, but the tired under his eyes was the same. It always showed in August.

Her mother, of course, kept talking. “Well, you’ve certainly been busy. I saw you at the Met Gala.”

Joe blinked. “You did?”

“Oh, please,” she said, waving a hand. “The moment your photo hit the internet, Y/N was showing me every angle of that suit. That blue-on-blue? Absolutely gorgeous. You looked gorgeous.”

Y/N choked on her water.

Joe’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Did she now?”

Y/N shot her mom a look. “I didn’t show you every angle.”

“You showed me enough,” her mom said, sipping her wine with barely disguised mischief. “He looked good. That suit was beautiful. Right, Y/N?”

The silence that followed was immediate and awful.

Y/N cleared her throat. “It was fine.”

“Fine,” Joe echoed, grinning now. “Wow. High praise.”

“You were styled well,” Y/N said carefully, stabbing her gumbo a little too aggressively. “Good tailoring. No complaints.”

Her mother beamed, delighted. “See? I raised a woman who knows a good lapel when she sees one.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “I’m putting that on my résumé.”

The laughter that followed was brief but real. And that was somehow worse.

Because for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like they were still together. Like she could still reach under the table and rest her foot lightly against his like she used to when the conversation got too long and his mind started to wander.

Y/N didn’t reach. But she remembered.

“Your mom must’ve loved that look,” her mother continued. “She’s always said you clean up well.”

“She did,” Joe said. “She kept trying to get me to pose like I was on a cologne ad. Said I looked ‘mysterious.’”

He glanced across the table at Y/N.

“I didn’t feel mysterious. I felt like an idiot trying not to sweat through my shirt.”

Her mother looked between them but didn’t comment. She simply passed the hot sauce down the table.

“And your parents?” she asked instead, ever the master of casual redirection. “They doing okay?”

“They’re good,” Joe replied. “My mom says hi, by the way. She, uh… she was surprised when I told her I was coming here tonight.”

Y/N’s mom raised her brows, but her smile never wavered. “Was she now?”

He nodded, then hesitated. “Yeah. But I think… I think she was happy. Said it was nice to hear your name again.”

That landed differently. Softer. Slower.

Y/N’s fork paused mid-scoop, gumbo dripping back into the bowl. She didn’t look up.

“Tell her I said hello,” her mother replied, folding her napkin neatly in her lap. “And next time she’s in town, she better come over for coffee.”

“I will.”

They fell into silence for a beat—just the clink of silverware and the low hum of crickets outside the open window.

Joe took a bite, then set his spoon down.

“This is amazing, by the way,” he said. “I’ve missed your cooking.”

“You always did eat like you hadn’t seen food in days,” her mom teased gently. Then, with a glance in Y/N’s direction: “I don’t suppose you’ve managed to cook anything for yourself, have you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, grateful for the normalcy of the jab. “I’ve cooked.”

Joe coughed into his napkin. “Microwaving Trader Joe’s doesn’t count.”

“I will kick you under this table, Burrow.”

He laughed—really laughed—and the sound hit her like a memory wrapped in sunlight.

Her mother just smiled, sipping from her glass of wine. “Well, some things haven’t changed.”

No one answered that. They didn’t have to.

After a moment, Joe reached for the breadbasket and passed it across the table to Y/N, the edge of his finger brushing hers.

She didn’t pull away.

✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧

The lingering warmth of the evening wrapped the apartment in a quiet afterglow. The game blared from the living room as the rest of the group settled in front of the TV—familiar voices and laughter floating through the air, as if time hadn’t shifted beneath them. Y/N's mother, settled in her usual chair, clapped occasionally and cheered for a team she only pretended to follow. Her father, reclined with his legs up, seemed content enough just to be part of it all. The familiar hum of the house felt like a strange balm, smoothing over the awkwardness between her and Joe, even if they weren’t quite done with it yet.

But Joe, ever the gentleman—or maybe just trying to stay busy—hung back. As the others crowded into the living room, he made his way to the kitchen, where Y/N stood at the sink, sleeves pushed up, water steaming around her wrists. The clink of ceramic plates met the gentle trickle of running water.

“Hey,” she said, a quiet murmur as he began to collect the leftover dishes from the table, a familiar rhythm between them. “You don’t have to do that,” she said

Y/N didn’t immediately turn to look at him. Her hands worked in practiced motions, setting dishes into the sink, rinsing them with a quiet determination. The hum of the faucet seemed to fill the silence between them. She shrugged, still focused on the task at hand. “You didn’t have to come over.”

Joe paused. His hands, still holding a plate, lingered in the air. He let out a soft exhale, then placed it gently into the soapy water. “You didn’t invite me. She did.”

Y/N’s lips curved slightly in that half-smile he knew so well. “She made that pretty clear,” she said, her voice carrying an edge of humor, as if she were trying to dismiss the awkwardness that hung between them like a fragile thread.

“But you called me,” Joe said, his voice lower now, quieter.

Y/N set a plate down with a little more force than necessary, the sound sharper in the otherwise calm room. She didn’t look at him, but her words were steady. “Because I knew she wouldn’t leave me alone until I did.”

Joe stepped closer, moving to stand beside her at the sink. The space between them was small but charged, the faintest brush of his arm against hers making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. The scent of his cologne, familiar and warm, mingled with the steam from the water. He kept his voice just above a whisper, careful not to break the fragile silence. “You could’ve just texted me.”

She finally turned, meeting his eyes. Really meeting them—no distractions, no excuses.

“I wanted to hear your voice,” she said, so softly it barely reached the space between them.

That was all it took. The weight of her words broke open everything they’d been carefully avoiding for months. Joe’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The kitchen felt suddenly smaller, the noise from the living room faint in the background like a distant memory.

“I didn’t want us to end like that,” Joe said, his voice rougher now, as if he were confessing something he hadn’t known how to say until this very second.

Y/N pressed her lips together, swallowing hard. Her gaze dropped to the sink, the water swirling in lazy spirals. She was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was tight. “Then why did we?”

Joe looked down, his jaw flexing as he considered the question. His fingers lingered on the plate he was holding, not sure what to do with it now.

“I thought I couldn’t give you what you needed,” he said, the words coming slow, weighed down with regret. “I thought if I loved you less, if I focused more on... everything else, I could keep my life from falling apart. And if I focused more, maybe I could be a better version of myself. But I was wrong. Because the whole time I was trying to make everything perfect, I... I loved you more than I thought I could. And that scared the hell out of me.”

Y/N held her breath as she absorbed his words, the rawness of them striking deep inside her chest. She glanced down at her hands, the wetness of the spoon she held reminding her of everything she’d lost in the silence between them.

“You hurt me, Joe,” she said, her voice a little smaller than she’d intended, her fingers trembling as they held onto the spoon. It was hard, even now, to say those words without feeling the weight of them.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve hated myself for it every day since.”

Y/N’s gaze softened, the hardness in her chest giving way to the tenderness she’d been guarding for so long. She turned toward him, her breath steadying, though her heart was racing. “What do you want from me?” The words felt like a plea, but she couldn’t keep them back. She needed to know.

Joe stepped a little closer, the space between them shrinking. He reached out, hesitated, then lowered his hand to his side. “I want another chance. I want to make it right. I know it won’t be easy, but I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m here, Y/N. I’m all in, every day. Win or lose.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The room felt too small now, too close. She could hear the beating of her heart, the faintest sound of the game still playing in the background. But it was distant. Fading.

She wiped her hands on the dish towel slowly, the fabric rough under her fingertips. She exhaled a long, tired breath, not ready yet to make a decision, but not quite ready to say no. Not yet. “Well...” she murmured, the words slipping out with a quiet finality. “We can talk about it... after cobbler.”

Joe looked at her, eyes softening, and he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him. It was light, genuine—like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment.

“Deal,” he said, his voice low but filled with relief.

Y/N turned to step toward the living room, but just before she reached the doorway, she felt him move behind her. His hand found her wrist, gentle but insistent, and in a swift motion, he pulled her back. Without a word, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumb grazing the line of her jaw.

She froze for a heartbeat, caught between hesitation and something stronger—something she hadn’t let herself feel in months.

Then, slowly, carefully, he kissed her. It was soft at first, almost tentative, as if they were both unsure of the ground beneath them. But soon, the weight of it grew—layers of longing, regret, and the faintest trace of hope filling the space between their lips. It felt like the world was holding its breath.

And just as Y/N thought she might let herself fall completely into it, the sound of her mother’s voice—loud and unrestrained—broke through the quiet like a gong.

“Oh, finally!” her mom cheered from the living room, her voice so high-pitched with excitement that it echoed off the walls. “I’ve been waiting for this! Now you two can get started on those grandbabies!”

Y/N pulled back immediately, her face flushing crimson. She looked at Joe, embarrassed and wide-eyed, but he only laughed—his deep, genuine laugh that sent a flutter through her chest. His arms circled her, pulling her close, and in that moment, it wasn’t just the awkwardness of the situation that made her heart race. It was the warmth of him, the steadiness she’d always found in his arms.

“Well,” Joe said, his voice low and teasing, “I guess we better get started, huh?”

Y/N buried her face in his chest, both mortified and relieved at the same time. But as he held her close, she knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch. 3 returning the favor

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 3/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 4.5k

a/n. hope you enjoy! i really had fun incorporating a lot of the other characters in this one.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

|| 9:21AM Gojo Satoru sent you a photo

|| 9:22AM Gojo Satoru: Here’s our practice schedule for the week. Honestly, it’s better if you come when we do practice games or something, since on other days we just do drills or strength training, but coach doesn’t really tell us what we’re doing beforehand so would probs have to play it by ear

|| 9:27AM Gojo Satoru: Oh yeah, we’ve got a big game in three weeks on the 28th. It’ll decide if we’re automatically seeded into the top 16 teams bracket, which is really crucial if we want to eventually bring home the championship. Not sure when your assignment is due, but that would be a good official game to come to 

|| 9:28AM Gojo Satoru: Let me know as soon as you can if you want to make that game. I’ll have to ask coach to get the referee sign-off for you to be on-field during play at least a week before

You look down at all the messages he was sending you during class on a Monday morning. After he sent you that house party details post from his fraternity’s Instagram page last week, their posts kept popping up in your feed and you saw one this morning with a bunch of the guys in the frat, Gojo included, shotgunning beers until 3AM last night. You marvel at how he’s somehow not hungover beyond repair and is texting you before noon. 

Pressing and holding on to his messages, you give him little thumbs up reactions and you decide on a heart reaction for the picture he sent you of the practice schedule. Then, you set your phone down and look at the video of the men’s soccer team highlights your professor was playing from the game a week and a half ago.

“Here, here, this right here. Midfielder #24 surveyed the field, spotting #13 making a run for it down the flank. Pinpoint pass to left winger, who starts steering through defenders, but loses the ball. Then, center forward #10 steals the ball back! He steals the ball, he fucking steals the fucking ball back!” Your professor was running back and forth in front of the projector screen, his finger following the movement of the soccer ball in the video. Your heart jumps a beat when Gojo shows up on screen, with his signature #10 jersey, and some people in the lecture hall stand up in excitement with the professor. “Beelines towards the goal, and BAM! Goalie stood no fucking chance, ball sent immaculately into the back of the net. Victory for UTokyo, 2-1, in the last seconds of the game!" Your professor cheers and jumps up and down. Some people cheer with him, others sigh, others are in awe, and some simply clap. 

Another entire lecture goes by where the professor spends absolutely no time going over film photography theory and instead just talks about how soccer used to be back in his day. You approach him after class, clutching your laptop case to your chest, and it’s only when you clear your throat in front of him that he finally looks up at you from the podium. 

“Oh, y/n, how can I help you?” He asks as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“Hey, professor. Bit of a request, could I have like two extra days for my assignment? There’s this event that I really want to use for the subject matter but it’s the day before the deadline, and I would need some time to develop my photos,” you say in the politest tone you can muster up.

“Yeah, sure. Just get it in before the end of the deadline week,” he says nonchalantly. “Looking forward to seeing it. Good work on the last one, by the way.”

You give him a smile and a word of appreciation before turning on your heel and making it up the stairs to exit the lecture hall, pulling your phone out of your tote bag. 

|| 9:53AM You: i can make it on the 28th. please get that referee permission for me

You press your lips together as you press send, and then type a bit more.

|| 9:54AM You: and thanks a lot

Your stomach is suddenly growling and you’re about to head over to the student hub when your phone starts ringing. You look down at the contact name that says Nobara and pick up.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up,” you say as you make your way towards the heart of campus, enjoying the light breeze as the sun peeked through the clouds. 

“Where are you? Didn’t we have a Film Club meeting today?” She asks you, her tone a bit impatient. “We were supposed to discuss that collaboration with the school newsletter.”

Shoot. You forgot. These days, you were a bit too distracted by recent happenings, like Mina practically falling head-over-heels for a guy that was quite possibly the opposite of her type, the towering amount of class assignments that never seemed to end, and this whole arrangement you were trying to coordinate with Gojo Satoru. The Film Club meeting totally slipped your mind. You were supposed to head out of class a bit early to make it on time. “I’m so sorry, Nobara. I totally forgot about it. I’m unfortunately all the way on the other end of campus right now. I typed up some notes in the document, can you just run those by them? If we need anything else, I’ll reach out to them by email.” 

She sighs on the other end of the line. “Yeah. I’m not good at these conversations, but I guess as President I should be better at them anyways. I’ll let you know how it goes.” And then she hangs up. 

Mentally happy that you were at least free of one other obligation today, you prepare to make your way to the dining hall when your phone vibrates again.

|| 10:01AM Gojo Satoru: Will do, and sure thing. By the way, you free right now? Coach is having us do a practice game, probably for around 2 hours

You squint your eyes at his message, considering the opportunity. You didn’t have any other classes left for the day and were just going to grab something to eat before heading home, but now you wonder if you should make it to this practice session. He did say that you have to be flexible since he doesn’t even know exactly what they’ll end up doing before practice, so you figured this might be your only chance this week to practice capturing shots of them as they play, since it seemed like they had Tuesday & Friday off based on Gojo’s schedule picture. Unfortunately, you only brought your digital camera with you today since your film camera was too heavy to carry around unless you knew you needed it, but you can still do a lot with digital that would help for the film camera shoot. You could make it work.

|| 10:05AM You: yeah, i’m free. i was just gonna grab something to eat first, and then i’ll head over to the field in maybe 15 min. but i’m not exactly sure how to get onto the field, or where the entrance is…

He adds a heart reaction to your message which startles you a little bit. An accident, maybe?

|| 10:06AM Gojo Satoru: Lol, just meet me at that weird art sculpture they put up last semester. The one that cost like all of our tuition money. I’ll walk you to the field

You let out a sigh, somewhat nervous that you'll be seeing him again soon. The last time you saw Gojo was when you left him standing unceremoniously at the kitchen island with a somewhat offending comment. Nonetheless, he didn’t necessarily seem angry at you. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s been way more helpful than you had ever anticipated. You started to feel like the effort you put into getting Mina to go to that house party was nothing compared to the effort he was putting in for you to ace this assignment. 

Stopping by your school’s mini grocery store, you pick up a sandwich plus some strawberry vanilla soda, and take some bites as well as some sips as you leisurely make your way to the expensive art sculpture near the sports fields. As you get closer to it, you see Gojo from a distance talking to some people. A few of them were guys, a few of them girls, and he was laughing out loud at something one of the girls said. A part of you wonders what it’s like to be adored by so many people. 

When he spots you at the other side of the cross walk, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he’s hurriedly saying goodbye to the group in front of him. Their heads turn to each other in confusion before turning their attention in your direction as he makes his way over to you.

“Hey,” he says as he lightly jogs up to the sidewalk you were standing on. You notice he’s wearing a black long sleeve undershirt with a short-sleeved blue one on top, along with some athletic black shorts and running shoes. When he brushes some of his hair away from where it had fallen near his eyes, your heart skips a beat at his handsome expression. A smile graces his face. “You ready?”

You nod, swallowing the mouthful of sandwich you didn’t realize you had stopped chewing, and follow his lead as the two of you cut across behind the batting cages of the school’s softball training area. Your eyes fell to Gojo’s back as he walked on the pavement. His shoulders were broad, shoulder blades pulling the upper half of the fabric of his clothing somewhat taut across as the rest of it freely flowed down to his lean lower back. The long sleeved shirt he wore underneath was pretty loose-fitting, but you could still see the thickness of his muscles. With every step that he took, his calves flexed in a way that made you realize he must really work out.

“What are you eating?” He says as he turns around to face you, walking backwards for a few paces as he looks at your hands.

“Oh, just a veggie sandwich,” you answer as you hold it up next to your face. “Campus delicacy.”

His smile widens. “And what are you drinking?” This time he asks with a bit more curiosity.

“It's strawberry vanilla soda,” you say as you juggle all of the things you were holding in your arms. 

“Can I have some?” He asks with a somewhat innocent tone. “The soda, I mean. I’ve never had that flavor.” 

You hesitate, but alas you were a people-pleaser. “Sure.” 

He halts his movements and so you do too, and he closes the gap between you two in one exaggerated stride. His hand gently pulls the soda bottle out from where it was tucked into your elbow to keep it from falling. You notice the veins on his hand get more defined as he squeezes & twists to release the cap and it sends something akin to a wave of arousal through your body, entirely startling you. But when he brings the bottle up to his lips with his head tipping backwards, drinking directly from it, neck bobbing as he swallows and a single drop trickles down the expanse of his jawline, the arousal directly hits you at your core. 

“Hm,” he licks his lips. “That’s pretty good.” 

You’re standing there in shock, your grip on your sandwich causing dents in the bread. He dabs the stray droplet of liquid at his chin with the back of his hand and turns around to keep walking ahead, making his way up the stairs onto what looks like a grassy field. It takes you a second to start moving too, and by then you need to do a light jog just to catch up to him. 

There’s a comfortable silence that develops between the two of you and when you glance at Gojo, you notice his eyes are closed and there’s a serene smile on his face, a gust of wind pushing the hair up out of his forehead and sending the blades of grass dancing across the hilly field. You smile too at the sensation of cool wind on your skin. It was a beautiful day outside with sparkling sunshine and quiet whistling wind.

“Can I ask you something?” You say after contemplating if you should interrupt his somewhat meditative state. 

“You can ask me anything,” he easily replies. 

“Why are you so willing to help me out with my assignment?” 

He turns his head to look at you with a neutral expression. “Because you did me a favor.” 

You sigh. “I know…but it really wasn’t that hard to convince Mina to go to that party. I feel like you’re helping me out way more than I helped you out.” A small ladybug lands on the fabric of your jeans and you marvel at it before it flutters its wings and flies away.

He’s silent for a second. “Honestly, when you agreed to help me out with Todo’s little crush, which by the way I had to do because I lost a bet, and you mentioned something about terms and conditions in your message,” he starts to say, a brief pause making its way between the sentence as if he was actively trying to relive that first night he was texting you, “I thought you were going to ask for something sexual in return.” 

Your mouth drops at his line of thinking, suddenly mortified. That’s how your message came across to him? Oh my God, you had to rethink how you texted everyone in your life from now on.

“I mean, weren’t you being a little flirty? ‘My terms and conditions will come later’. Or do I just have some weird sexual brain rot?” His eyes are still on you, his tone way too casual in your opinion for this sudden topic of conversation. You also realize that he thinks having sex with him would be returning you the favor. And then you try not to think about how good he probably is in bed. 

When you can’t think of what to say and just stare at him with wide eyes, he smiles and stretches his arms out in front of him as another gust of wind passes by. “Well, anyways, when you shared what you actually wanted from me and it ended up being a pretty earnest request…let’s just say I was emotionally moved by your dreams and aspirations.” He says that last part somewhat dramatically and you roll your eyes, sending him an annoyed look. “A little disappointed, but nonetheless moved.” 

“Wow, you’re the type of person that would trade favors for sex?” you ask him with a sneer to your tone. 

He sends a lazy smirk to you over his shoulder to where you’re trailing behind him now. “Not really, no, can’t say I’ve ever done it before,” he says slyly, “probably would’ve made an exception for you, though.” And then he’s giving you a wink.

You can’t help but blush a little. He was definitely just teasing you, some hobby of his that he does just to constantly get a kick out of the people around him since he knows he just has that much of an effect on them, so you try not to let his words get past your skin to the more vulnerable parts of you. He’s reading your expression before he speaks up again.

“We’ve already started this little return favor of yours, so no take-backs. It’s an eye for an eye. Not an eye for an eye and throw some casual sex in there, too.” He makes his way up what seems to be the largest hill across the field and he stops at the top, peering out at whatever was across from it. When you made your way to the top too, your eyes widened as you saw an expanse of flat grassiness covered in orange cones, green land markers, white chalk outlines, and netted goals. Oh, and a lot of men. “Alright, you freaky little photographer. Here are your muses.” 

You let out the breath you were holding in and smiled, hands immediately reaching for your digital camera case within your tote bag. A wave of creativity and inspiration hit you as you were finally able to lay your eyes on your subject matter and setting, and you couldn’t wait to get started. 

Gojo makes his way down the hill and you stumble after him. He high-fives a couple of his teammates that were leaving the first wave of practice and makes his way over where the second-wave practice players were stretching on the field and running laps.

“C’mon, Itadori, I’ve seen snails with a more urgent sense of direction than you! Pick up those goddamn knees!” You hear a loud voice from a few feet away from you and flinch, eyeing the scary looking man that had a…Pomeranian dog in his arms? He was wearing a black athletic jumpsuit and had extremely tinted, thick sunglasses on. His facial hair was a bit jarring and you immediately decided you were scared of him, despite how gently he was petting the little dog cradled in his arms. 

“That’s coach Yaga,” Gojo says beside you with a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Real nice guy.”

You turn to give him a suspicious look and he just returns it with a wider smile. 

“Hey! It’s y/n,” you hear a somewhat familiar voice call out and you glance at the direction it came from. You see Geto standing next to Nanami and he whacks his hand against the blonde's chest to get his attention when he makes eye contact with you before jogging over. You see Gojo put his hands in his shorts pockets in your periphery. “What are you doing here?” 

You give him a shy smile, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Here to take some photos.”

“Are you with the school newsletter?” Nanami’s smooth voice says as he approaches Geto, standing next to him. They both were wearing matching blue tracksuits. 

“No, I’m not. Just here to…take some photos for one of my classes. It’s for a film photography assignment.” You suddenly wished you were part of the school newsletter committee, so that you could at least provide them with some positive publicity with your photos. You wondered if they would think you’re just using them. As if Gojo could read your mind, he patted Geto harshly on the back and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh.

“Hear that, punks? She wants to try and take some nice photos of you lot. Be grateful! Of course, your grotesque appearances cannot simply be fixed by any technology yet known to man,” Gojo says rather loudly, continuing to smack Geto on the back. Geto has a small pitiful smile on his face and Nanami just looks annoyed. You feel lighter somehow, less tense. 

“Okay, cool, let us know if we can help in any way,” Geto says kindly as he sits down on the grass to continue stretching out his legs. “Oh by the way, Satoru, Chosou’s out sick today so you might need to cover for goalie.” 

“What? Why’s that fucker always getting sick?” Gojo says as he walks towards one of the duffle bags on the bench, and you assume it’s his. He pulls out a water bottle. “He needs to stop eating that goddamn grocery store sushi.” 

“Oh! Oh! It’s you,” another somewhat familiar voice calls out from ahead. You see a guy wearing a dark blue jacket that had a red hood approaching you from the inner field. Then you recognize he was that guy at the entrance of the house party that called you a- “It’s casual tomboy!” 

Your eye twitches slightly as you take in your appearance. Sure, you were wearing jeans again, but your top was somewhat stylish and feminine. He arrives in front of you and notices the digital camera hung at your neck. “Hey, what’s that?” He points directly at your midriff where the camera sat. He almost pokes his finger right through the delicate attachable lens that cost you nearly two months of rent.

“A little rude, Yuuji,” Geto says, grunting as he switches from one stretch to the other. 

Yuuji gets closer to you to study the camera and you instinctively lean away from him before Gojo is grabbing him by the hood of his jacket and yanking him away from you, Yuuji’s arms flailing out in front of himself in a struggle. “Hey, get back to practice. You’re not allowed to talk to pretty seniors.” 

Coach Yaga grunts and crosses his arms from where he stood a few feet away, the tiny pomeranian now barking at his feet. “I never said you could stop running laps, Itadori! Get your ass back out there! I’ll be sending you to recreational soccer for the rest of your freshman year if you don’t get your damn head straight!” Gojo lets go of Itadori’s hood and the poor boy is scrambling across the field to join what seems like the other first-years for their warm-up laps. Coach Yaga turns to you and gives a hmph before vaguely gesturing to you. “May I know what you’re doing out on my field?”

“Coach!” Gojo says, making his way over to the scary man. He slings his arm around his neck and the man just continues to glare at him through his sunglasses. “She’s with me today. Photographer y/n will be taking some handsome photographs of you that you can send to your wife, and then maybe your wife will actually want to-”

Coach Yaga puts Gojo in a headlock and Gojo’s instantly tapping on his back to get him to ease up. “I dare you to finish that sentence, boy.”

You let out a small laugh. This was certainly a lively bunch. Nanami approaches you and expresses interest in your camera. You lift it up for him to take a closer look. He pinches his chin between his bent index finger and thumb, as if he was a detective analyzing a crime scene. “I see…so this is a film camera.” 

“Ah…” you laugh awkwardly. “No, this is just a digital camera.” 

“I see…so this is a digital camera,” he repeats, equally as intrigued. 

The time eventually comes along where all the players start the practice match. There’s obviously not enough players out on the field for full teams on each side, but they’re split into 1st & 4th years vs. 2nd & 3rd years. You learn that the second wave practice group has the talented players at the top of each of their year groups. Gojo doesn’t seem to participate in the practice match despite one team having to omit having a goalie since the coach requested he sit out to watch the plays and make suggestions.  You’re a bit sad you don’t get to see him play, but figured you’ll have a chance in the future. You take a few snapshots as one of the other first-years, a quiet boy named Megumi, kicks the ball towards the goal that ends up bouncing off the goal frame. You spend some time tweaking the exposure, zoom, and focus until you feel like you have a pretty good idea of the settings you’ll need to get some fluid shots. 

When you look up over the field again, raising your digital camera to your face, you notice Gojo looking at you from across the field where he stood at the sidelines. You both keep your gaze on one another for a couple of seconds, and you boldly lift the camera up to your eye, taking a few snapshots of him. When you pull it away, look down at the results on the small screen, and then glance back up at him, his eyes are slightly wide. Something stirs within you when you remember his words from earlier: I thought you were going to ask for something sexual.

Your mind wanders back to the party from last weekend, and the feeling of him leaning down next to your ear in the kitchen as he said “Thanks, I owe you one. Find me later, ‘kay?” The memory itself made your cheeks feel warm. Did he…think that something was going to happen that night at the party? Probably would’ve made an exception for you…Disappointed, but nonetheless moved. Somewhere in the haziness of your thoughts, you realize that meant that Gojo would’ve wanted to sleep with you if that was indeed your condition.

When you look to the other side of the field again, Gojo’s eyes are still on you but his handsome face looks a bit troubled, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly pursed. You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking, but for some reason you felt like he could tell what you were. When you raised an eyebrow at him, his face relaxed and he slowly shook his head as if to say it's nothing. 

Coach Yaga’s sharp whistle cuts through the silent conversation you two were having as he yells, “alright, boys. Practice over! Go stretch yourselves out.” 

You quickly stuff your digital camera back into its case and collect your things into your tote bag. In your peripheral vision, Gojo’s making his way over to you and when he’s right next to you, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“How’d it go? Get some good shots?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” You’re still not looking at him, pretending to fiddle with something in your tote bag. He leans down a bit to look at your face more clearly when he notices you’re not meeting his gaze, but you still struggle to make eye contact with him. “I’ve gotta go, can you tell the guys I said bye?” And then you’re making your way up the hill.

There’s a beat of silence as confusion washes over him from your behavior. “Hey, wait, y/n, do you know how to get back to campus?”

You spin to face him when you're at the top of the hill, finally looking him in the eye. There’s a concerned expression on his face. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Thanks a lot for today. Let me buy you a strawberry vanilla soda sometime, okay?” Flashing him a small smile, you turn around and run down the hill, ignoring the fast beating of your heart.

a/n. thanks a bunch for reading!

➸ take me to chapter four!

[yvaineseleneposts]

Bombshell Pt. 1

A/N: This is part 1 of my new love island series! I will be moving this weekend, so a new part will be uploaded next week probably. I hope you like it!

Requested: no

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Words: 1k

Warning(s): none

Episode Title: “10/10 Lips and a Game-Changer”

The villa was buzzing with anticipation. The sun beat down over the glistening pool, bodies sprawled across sunbeds, the Islanders soaking up both the heat and the drama.

The girls were inside the kitchen when Jessie got a text. “I’ve got a text!” she shouts across the garden, “Islanders get ready for today’s Blind Kissing Challenge! #lipsdontlie #girlsvsboys”.

The rules were simple: each boy would kiss the girls one by one, blindfolded, and the girls would rate the kiss out of ten, and then they would switch places.

But what they didn’t know… was that a bombshell was entering the villa.

The Kissing Challenge

The boys had finished their kisses, and now it is up to the girls. One by one, blindfolded, each boy stood center stage. Each girl in the villa got their kisses, and they thought the challenge was over. Suddenly, the iconic Love Island door creaked open. Striding in with confidence, wearing a red bikini and an even redder lipstick, was Y/N, the newest bombshell.

Heads turned. Jawlines dropped. Jessie quietly gasped, “Wait, who is that?”

Y/N stepped up, not missing a beat. Her kisses were bold, lingering, and expertly playful.

Mitch rated her kiss an 8/10. Tyrese smirked after removing his blindfold. “That was mad. Gotta be an 8.” Will fanned himself dramatically. “That was… unexpected. 8.5, but I’ll round down so I don’t get cuffed tonight.” Zac grinned. “Yeah, alright, 8.”

But then it was Nico Hischier’s turn.

The NHL star turned Islander stood blindfolded, hands behind his back. Y/N stepped closer, her breath grazing his lips before pressing a kiss that was slow, confident, and undeniably electric.

Nico’s jaw clenched. When the kiss ended, he stood still, lips slightly parted. “That was a ten. No hesitation.”

The villa erupted.

“Ooooh!” “Nico!” “Wow, okay!”

Jessie nudged Maya. “He’s smitten already.”

After the Challenge

Sunset painted the sky in burnt orange and cotton-candy pink as the Islanders lounged by the fire pit. Laughter and gossip filled the air. Y/N found Nico by the daybed, alone, sipping on a drink, a smirk playing on his lips like he knew exactly what was coming.

“Mind if I join?” she asked, voice playful but with a flicker of nerves.

“Would’ve been rude if I said no to a ten-out-of-ten kisser,” Nico teased.

She sat beside him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You gave me a ten. Why?”

He looked at her, eyes softening. “It wasn’t just the kiss. It was… how you did it. Like you knew exactly what you were doing, but not for show. It was just real. You didn’t hesitate.”

Y/N smiled. “You didn’t either.”

They held each other’s gaze a beat too long.

“I meant it,” he said. “The score. I don’t throw those around.”

“Neither do I,” she replied, shifting slightly closer. “But I’d say you’re a solid ten too.”

Silence fell between them, the good kind. The kind that doesn’t need filling.

From the kitchen, someone yelled, “They’re grafting already!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Think they’re jealous?”

Nico chuckled. “Definitely. Want to give them something else to talk about?”

He leaned in, slower this time. She didn’t pull away. And just like that, the bombshell made her mark, not just on the villa, but on Nico.

Later That Evening

The fire pit glowed against the darkening sky as the Islanders scattered into their usual evening cliques. Music played low from the villa speakers, and conversations buzzed like bees around the drinks table. Y/N stood up from the daybed after chatting with Nico, cheeks slightly flushed, maybe from the drink, maybe from something else. Inside the kitchen, Maya and Ella were cleaning up the cocktail mess when Y/N walked in.

“Look who’s finally surfaced,” Maya teased, giving her a knowing glance.

Y/N smirked. “Can’t help it if I’m in high demand.”

Ella leaned on the counter, curious. “So? You and Nico? That kiss earlier was... whew.”

Y/N laughed, grabbing a slice of pineapple from the platter. “It was decent.”

“Decent?” Maya arched a brow.

“Alright, maybe... dangerously decent,” Y/N admitted, grinning.

Just then, Jessie wandered in and looped her arm through Y/N’s. “Okay, we’ve had our fun watching from the sidelines, but now we need to talk.”

Y/N glanced around, then nodded. “Let’s go.”

They stepped out to the beanbags, away from the others. The night was balmy, the kind where secrets feel safer in the dark.

“I wanted to have a proper chat,” Jessie began. “You came in today and just... owned it. That’s not easy.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Thanks. I was terrified, honestly. Didn’t show it, but yeah — heart in my throat.”

Jessie smiled. “Well, you played it cool. And that kiss with Nico? He hasn’t looked at anyone else since.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment. “Thing is… I didn’t come in thinking about any one guy. I wanted to feel it. See who actually sees me. Nico surprised me. That kiss surprised me.”

Jessie nodded thoughtfully. “He’s not really been fully coupled up with anyone. The others have been trying to suss him out. He keeps his cards close, but I think you cracked him.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Maybe. Or maybe I just kissed him into silence.”

They both giggled, the tension lifting.

Jessie nudged her. “Just be careful, yeah? This place… it gets messy.”

“I know,” Y/N said, her voice suddenly more serious. “But I’m not here to play it safe.”

From the fire pit, a shout rang out: “Y/N, you coming back or you abandoning us already?”

She stood, tossing her hair back. “Duty calls.”

As she walked away, Jessie watched her go with a half-smile. The bombshell had definitely landed.

[barefoot-joker]

Against Heaven and Hell~Yandere!Adam X Reader X Yandere!Lucifer

Hello, everybody! Welcome back to my Hazbin Hotel hyperfixation! Today I bring you a Yandere! Adam vs Yandere! Lucifer story. I think this one turned out alright but let me know what you think. As always, enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 1972

Warnings: Swearing, Adam being Adam, Car Crash, Contract Signing, Kidnapping

I bit my lip as I looked at myself in the full length mirror. The girls and I were going out tonight and I wanted to look my best. It had been a few months since we’d seen each other after all. I smoothed out my black and red plaid pants and fluffed my black dress shirt. Deciding I was presentable enough I walked to my kitchen. I grabbed my keys off the counter, put on my black bomber jacket and black boots, and walked out my apartment door. I locked the door behind me and continued my way to the elevator. Hitting the button for the first floor, I found myself tapping my foot as I waited.

Ding!

The doors opened and I walked out. I headed to the parking garage to the left of my apartment building and walked up the few flights of stairs to my car. Since I was the designated driver I made sure a few days before my vehicle was nice and tidy. I put on some tunes as I drove down several blocks before arriving near the center of the city. I parked on a side street and pulled out my phone, texting Ashley that I was ready for them. I scrolled through social media for a few minutes when there was a tap on my window. I looked up and saw Ashley, Shiloh and Tiffany standing there. I unlocked the doors and they all got in. “Hey, girl! Long time no see!” Ashley, sitting in the passenger seat, gave me a tight hug.

“It’s nice to see all of you too. Gosh, it feels like it’s been forever.”

“It really has. But no time is like the present as they say!” Tiffany piped up from the back seat. 

We all nodded in agreement. “So, where should we go?”

“How about Tito’s? I heard they have a $3 special going on tonight.” Shiloh said.

“Tito’s it is then.”

With that I started the car and drove further into the city. We arrived at Tito’s around 7 pm and after parking the car, walked inside. The bar was quite busy that night with many couples sharing tables and others taking to the dance floor as a live band played. The four of us took to a booth across from the bar and ordered our drinks. The girls had gotten some classics like a gin and tonic, old fashioned and Manhattan while I just had my favorite soda. I was the designated driver after all. We sat and chatted for hours, and it soon was 10 pm and my friends were wasted. I struggled to carry all of them to the car as they giggled drunkenly, grasping onto me tightly. “Oh my god, Y/n! You’re so cute, you know that?” Shiloh said, giggling slightly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I had to lean Tiffany and Shiloh against the back door as I struggled to put Ashley in. “Stop, Y/n! That tickles! Stop!”

I grunted as I managed to get her in with her seat belt on. Quickly I rounded to the back of the car and started to get Shiloh in. Tiffany slid to the ground and started to laugh uncontrollably. This was going to be a rough night.

It took about 15 minutes but I had finally gotten everybody in the car. I drove everybody back to Ashley’s apartment and started to unload them into the hallway. “Y/n, please stay. We can like have a big sleepover!” Ashley slurred.

“Sorry, honey. I’ve got work in the morning. But I’m sure Tiffany and Shiloh wouldn’t mind your company.”

I leaned down to the “Welcome” mat by Ashley’s door and grabbed the spare key. Unlocking the door, I dragged in all three girls. I placed Ashley on her armchair and Shiloh and Tiffany on the couch. Once I made sure they were all cozy, I snuck out before they could grab onto me. I made sure to replace the key under the mat before I walked back to my car. 

The drive home was a bit chaotic. There were lots of people on the streets wandering around due to it being a Friday night and night life was hopping. I was placed out of my thoughts as my light turned green. I was in the middle of the intersection when suddenly my car was struck on the side by a much larger vehicle. I tried to regain control of the wheel as my stomach clenched, however, the car began to flip. I couldn’t even get a scream out as another car came and smashed into the front of mine. I could feel the car being slid across the road before slamming into a building. My head flew forwards and smacked into the wheel before flying back. My vision was doubling as I heard faint screams from the street. Just as my eyes began to close, I could have sworn I saw golden wings descending from the sky.

Before I even opened my eyes, I could feel warmth around me. It didn’t feel like a blanket or anything more like the Sun beaming down upon me. I slowly opened my eyes only to be blinded by bright light. Everything seemed to be overly saturated as I looked around and the gentle humming of violins filled the air. I sat up with a groan and held my head, a slight dull pain hitting it. What happened?

Suddenly, a set of double white doors flew open and revealed a tall, large man in a white, gold and purple robe, a demon looking mask on his face with black horns scraping behind his head. Beside him a smaller female with a black and white devilish mask, gray dress and white and black wings stood. “Ah good, you’re finally awake, babe.”

“Who are you?”

“Adam, first man. Autographs are extra, sweetheart. And this is Lute, my assistant.”

I just stared at him. What in the world? “Um, I hate to ask, but where am I?”

“You’re in Heaven, toots!”

“H-Heaven? You mean like Heaven and Hell Heaven?”

Adam’s yellow eyes rolled. “Duh! What other Heaven do you know of?”

My hands touched my chest and then my face. If I’m here does that mean-

“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then how’d I get here? I thought only dead people saw the Pearly Gates?”

Adam’s smile grew wide and the sight of fangs alarmed me. “I may have pulled a few strings to get you here. Please hold the applause. You can thank me later.”

“Um, okay.”

“I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself, but don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

He snapped his fingers and the two left. When the doors closed, I took a few moments to breathe. What exactly happened? All I could remember was driving back home from Ashley’s apartment, getting into a huge car crash and golden wings descending from the sky. Could that have been Adam? But then did he know I was going to get into a wreck? Could angels predict that sort of stuff? 

I shook my head and stood up from the bed I was on. Looking down I was in a light blue medical gown and my feet were bare. Was I in a hospital back on Earth? “You almost ready in there, babe? It’s been a while.”

“C-coming.”

“Not without me I hope.”

I stopped before the door. Did he say what I think he said? Whatever.

I opened it and stepped out. “Finally. Now come on, toots. Let the first man show you around!”

Before I could say anything, he slung a tight arm around my shoulders, and we walked off. 

Heaven wasn’t quite what I expected. It was almost like the city I lived in just without what would be considered sin. Every angel smiled and waved as the three of us walked by and it was almost sickening how happy everybody was. “So how do you like Heaven, babe? Does it surpass your expectations?”

“I guess. I wasn’t really expecting to be here. How did I get here again?”

“That doesn’t matter. The important thing is that we’re together! Especially now that you’ve got a real man in your life!”

“Sir, you said you’d hold off on that information.”

“Oh what’s the big deal, Lute? Toots will be stuck here anyway.”

I stopped walking and the two turned to look at me. “Stuck here? What are you talking about? You said I wasn’t dead.”

“Not yet. But as soon as my favor goes through then you’re all mine, sweetheart.”

“F-favor? Are you going to kill me?!”

“Eh, sacrifices need to be made. But I can assure you my dick is good.” He winked.

“Get away from me!”

I bolted as fast as I could. “Lute, grab her!”

I could hear the flapping of wings as I continued to run. Just as I was rounding a corner, I could feel myself falling. It wasn’t fast but more like floating back to Earth. The light around me dissipated into a grayness and I felt myself land softly.

My eyes flickered open and it took me a few minutes to realize I was in a hospital room. I sat up quickly and looked around frantically. I couldn’t see any angels around, so I leaned back in bed. A knock sounded at the wooden door and in walked a short man with blonde hair. He had on a white dress shirt and red tie, white pants and black boots. He stopped by the side of my bed and a pleased smile graced his lips. “Thank goodness you’re alright. I thought you’d never wake up. You were in a coma for a few days.”

“You are?”

“Oh, forgive me, where are my manners? Dr Morningstar at your service. You were in quite the accident, little lady.” 

“What happened?”

“From what we were told it was quite the fatal car crash. I’m not sure how it happened, but it seems like Heaven willed it to occur.”

He grit his teeth when he mentioned the glorious upstairs. Odd.

He went back to smiling at me and I couldn’t tell if it was the lighting, but his eyes appeared red. “The most important thing is we get you better. I’m sure your husband is worried about you.”

“Oh, I’m not married.”

“I see.”

His gaze dropped to my hand and I became uncomfortable with how long it lingered there. “Well, I’d better let you rest. I’ll be back later to check up on you.”

He bowed and exited the room, closing the door behind him. What is with today?

Over the next few weeks Dr Morningstar helped me recover. My friends came and visited a couple of times which was nice. I was told I could go home at any time soon. It was late one night when Dr Morningstar came into my room. “Alrighty then Y/n, I have your discharge papers right here.”

He handed me a stack of paperwork. “I just need you to sign the bottom.”

“Of course.”

I did as he said when suddenly the lights started to flicker. The room slightly shook as Dr Morningstar suddenly summoned a cane with an apple on top. “W-what’s going on?”

“You my dear, just signed your soul to me.”

“W-what?!”

“I didn’t want to trick you like this I promise, but it needed to be done. Adam was getting too close to you.”

How could he know about Adam? 

“The douchebag spilled everything to me, trying to make me jealous I guess. But sad to say, you’re now mine.”

He walked closer and I attempted to run but was met with a whack to the head. “Sweet dreams, darling.”

My eyes couldn’t quite process the six wings and horns that my doctor gained as they closed.

Everything faded to black.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Through the Years - The Proposal

Series Masterlist (part 10)

Summary: Tim finds the perfect way to propose. 0.9k+ words

Tim has been trying to wrack his brain on how to propose. He found the ring because of Angela and now he doesn’t know how to ask the woman he loves to marry him. Because of the incident when he got the ring, everyone has an opinion on how he should propose, and it’s giving him quite the headache. Lucy has been talking non-stop since she found out and expressed all of the ideas she had. So here he is, hiding in the interrogation room, trying to think of the perfect way to ask. Tim’s phone starts to ring and he answers without looking to see who is calling.

“What?” Tim asks gruffly.

“Hey baby, is this a bad time?” 

Tim freezes; it was you calling him and not Lucy as he thought. “No, not at all, what can I do for you?”

“We’ve been having issues at school of someone stealing other people’s lunches. Today they stole my whole lunch instead of a couple of things. Everything is just gone; would it be possible to bring me some lunch? I really don’t want to eat cafeteria food.” 

“Of course baby, I’ll grab some food from your favorite place”, Tim replies softly. He can tell you’ve been having a rough day just by the sound of your voice.

“Thank you so much! I really appreciate it, I love you! See you soon.” 

“I love you too.”

When your phone call ends, he sees he has a few texts he missed from you earlier. They were pictures of different drawings your students did and they all centered around you and him together. Tim knows that you love your students and they mean the world to you. You always boast about how much your students grow and how proud you are of them. That’s when Tim has the best idea ever.

You slump in your seat after your phone call with Tim. The kids were in the gym before they were going to head to lunch. There has been a lunch thief in the break room and even if you leave your lunch in your classroom, some of it gets stolen. You’ve never had your whole lunch stolen - matter of fact, no one has, so it looks like the thief has stepped up their game. You have your suspicions of who stole your lunch: your coworker Dennis has been causing all sorts of problems. He cheated on his wife with a student's mom, and now he blames his ex-wife for why his kids don’t want to see him. A rumor you were told was that he was a massive alcoholic who took out all his stress on his family, and he had a gambling problem. You want to make a super spicy meal for him to eat so he will stop eating your lunches since Tim puts a ton of effort into making sure you eat a balanced meal every day.

You check the time and see that it is time to pick up your class before lunch so they can grab anything they need. When you walk into your classroom with your students, you see Tim sitting at your desk with your lunch. The class all squeals and runs up to Tim, asking him all sorts of questions. Your class loves it when Tim visits and thinks he’s a superhero. 

“Hey guys, I’m just here to have lunch with your favorite teacher.” Tim has a smile on his face while he talks to your students.

That’s when your class turns to you and declares they want to use their marbles to have lunch with the both of you. You use marbles as a reward system to encourage good behavior, and they can choose what they want within reason.

“How about instead of me taking your marbles, I’ll give you a free pass because you have been so well-behaved today.”

The class cheers and goes to get their lunch stuff, so you send a classroom aide to go with some students who need a hot lunch. Tim hands you your stuff and when the aide returns with your students, you tell her you are going to run to the bathroom and be right back. When you return to your classroom, all your students are suspiciously quiet. Lunch goes smoothly, with you and Tim talking about your guys' day and the students talking amongst their friends and asking questions here and there. Once lunch ends, the students say goodbye to Tim and you kiss Tim on the cheek before telling him you’ll see him at dinner tonight.

It is getting close to the end of the day when the fire alarm goes off, which is weird because there was no drill planned for today. You calmly walk your students outside and do a head count of your students. After a few minutes, police and fire arrive, and all the kids talk about how cool they thought the trucks were. That’s when you heard your name called from one of the police vehicles' microphones.

“Y/N Winchester.”

Everyone grows quiet, and all turn to stare at you. Your students run toward the vehicle, and you run behind them to try and stop them. You freeze because your students are standing behind Tim, who is on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” all your students shout together with massive smiles on their faces.

“Yes!”

[t4kalcvr]

VAMOS A BAILAR — k. tsukishima smau

ft : la nina fresa by banda zeta

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ S2, EP 10 . be hot.

suna stares at the screen, expression unreadable. then carefully puts the phone back exactly how it was—screen down, centered on the table.

as he rejoins the group, you pass him with a smile, brushing his shoulder on the way to the kitchen.

suna doesn’t say a word.

but for the first time that night, his hands shake just a little.

you wander into the kitchen, half-dazed, your skin still tingling from the rooftop wind and all the laughter that clung to it. there’s a half-empty soda bottle on the counter, a few crumbs from akaashi’s strict snack layout, and—

your phone.

sitting exactly where you left it.

the screen flashes. you blink. once. twice.

1 new message — tendou satori

your heart trips over itself. your fingers hover before they move, automatic.

you swipe it open.

and then freeze.

not just his name.

but yours.

your words.

your side of the conversation.

you:

what do you want, satori?

tendou:

just an answer.

just… something.

you:

i gave you everything once.

you answered by breaking it.

so no. i don’t think about you anymore.

i’m not yours to haunt.

you don’t remember typing that.

because you didn’t.

the air shifts—your chest tightens as heat crawls up the back of your neck. you whip around, fury and confusion crashing in your throat as you storm back toward the living room. music muffled, voices blurred, until—

“who touched my phone?”

everything stops.

tsukishima’s head turns sharply. kenma lowers his switch. bokuto freezes mid-chip. kuroo sits up.

yaku spoke first, “wait, what?”

you’re already holding up the phone, face pale, voice shaking.

“someone texted tendou. from my phone.”

for a second, silence.

then suna stands.

slow. deliberate. like he’s not even sorry.

“i did.”

eyes snap to him. yours, wide. stunned.

“you—what?”

he shrugs, jaw tight.

“he doesn’t get to text you like that. not after what he did.”

“it wasn’t your place, rin.” your voice cracks around his name. “you don’t get to speak for me. not like that.”

he doesn’t flinch. arms crossed. eyes locked on yours.

“then tell me you would’ve said something different.”

your mouth opens. nothing comes out.

everyone’s watching. tsukishima hasn’t said a word—he just keeps staring, his fists clenched at his sides.

you look at suna.

you look at your phone.

you look at yourself in the dark reflection of the screen.

and all you can whisper is “that’s not the point.”

you don’t wait for anyone to follow.

you grab your phone, your breath still ragged in your chest, and head straight for the stairwell. you don’t even hear the door open behind you until it slams lightly against the wall.

“you really weren’t gonna say anything?”

his voice cuts through the echo of your steps.

you stop. shoulders tense. back still to him.

“kei, not now—”

“no, now.”

you turn, slowly. he’s standing at the bottom of the staircase, arms crossed tight over his chest like he’s holding something in. like if he lets go, it might shatter everything.

“what do you want me to say?” you ask, your voice low. “that i’m tired? that it’s all too much? that i can’t breathe with him in my inbox and everyone else in my business?”

he doesn’t answer right away.

just looks at you like he’s been thinking this for longer than he’ll ever admit.

“i just don’t get it,” he says finally. “why you let people like him stay in your orbit. when you deserve better.”

you blink.

“like who?” you ask, tired, bitter. “who do i deserve, tsukishima?”

he says your name once, so soft it hurts. and then—

he steps closer.

“you really don’t see it, do you?”

his jaw tics. his voice is lower now, more raw than you’ve ever heard it. like the words are fighting their way out of him.

“maybe i’ve been keeping my mouth shut for too long. maybe i thought if i waited long enough, you’d come to me first. but—”

he stops.

your heart lurches.

“but what?”

tsukishima looks at you like this is his last lifeline.

his next words are almost a whisper:

“but i think i—”

the door upstairs creaks open.

“guys?” it’s bokuto’s voice. muffled. too loud.

you both freeze.

tsukishima’s mouth closes.

the words die in his throat.

you stare at him, breath caught somewhere between your ribs and your heart, and he just shakes his head once—almost like he’s mad at himself.

you don’t move.

neither does he.

you inhale sharply, eyes flicking up toward the rooftop entrance. the wind curls against your skin, and for a second, it feels like the night’s cracked right down the middle.

“i’m fine, bokuto,” you call, not looking away from tsukishima. “just… needed some air.”

there’s a pause. then bokuto, softer:

“you sure?”

you nod. “yeah. i promise.”

he doesn’t push.

“okay. we’re inside if you need anything.”

the door clicks closed again.

you don’t turn. not yet.

your voice is steadier this time when you speak.

“what were you gonna say, kei?”

silence.

you glance at him.

he’s not looking at you anymore. his eyes are fixed on the railing, the city lights flickering like stars below his lashes.

“i don’t get you.”

his voice is low. sharp.

you blink. “what?”

he finally meets your gaze. and something in his expression isn’t calm anymore—it’s all tension and quiet panic, pressed beneath that usual wall of his.

“i don’t understand you.” he says again, more firmly now. “you let people like him hang around. you act like it doesn’t affect you. you run from everything, but never fast enough to outrun him. and then—”

he cuts himself off.

you fold your arms. the sting in your chest building.

“then what?”

his laugh is dry. humorless.

“then you look at me like i’m supposed to be something i don’t know how to be.”

your breath catches.

“kei—”

“do you think this is easy for me?” his voice lifts, a little louder now. “watching someone who’s never said how they feel let someone who already hurt them try again?”

you go still.

he looks at you like he’s halfway through unraveling.

“i don’t know what i’m doing,” he mutters, bitter. “i’ve never felt like this about anyone. it pisses me off. it’s always been easier to push people away, and then you—”

he stops.

his mouth presses into a line.

and all you can say is:

“then what, kei?”

his jaw clenches.

his voice barely makes it out this time.

“then you happened.”

and for a moment—

it gets too quiet.

too still.

and whatever he’s about to say next…

he doesn’t.

[ cue more dramatic music and end credits ]

CREDITS —

previous episode ‧₊* ‧₊ masterlist ⋆·˚ ༘ next season

translations 🪇 : none.

💬 , EEEEEEE CLIFFHANGER :b ALSO GUYS TODAY MARKS THE SECOND YEAR OF MY FIRST EVER SMAU BEHIND THE PHONE AND I STILL HAVENT UPDATED THAT SHII 😭 HELP. ANYWAYS ENJOYYYYY !!! third season will MOST LIKELY be shorter (episode wise) !!! ENJOYYYYY BABEZ

ko-fi :: soobinz, all donations are tremendously appreciated <3 and SOCIALS !

🏷️: @mjustag1rl @ast4rg1rl-deactivated20241103 @empress-pug-pug @softpia @yuminako @kagtobis @tsukistopglazer @yessimo @spicana @juie13 @whosmarjj @yamsverse @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @gravetomb @wearecooler @punkhazardlaw @theycallmenanamisgirl @mimisweetz @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @jojo23allegra @rory-cakes @ghostgoosygoose @hycuye @walllflowerrrsss @axquella @brithedemonspawn @anqelkoz @lsunncy @dudekiss3r @sickpatientt @kaldurahms-lover @iluv-ace @quantumorquanta @sinamew

[nfwmlily]

i’ve been so afraid to post this for the longest time but i have another fic published and y’all are so nice so here goes!!!

Imagine Being Loved By Me

pairing (pay attention this is the most fun part): hozier x fem!reader x alex ryan

rating: explicit (18+)

tags: shameless smut, threesome - F/M/M, title from a Hozier song, Hozier meme references lol, explicit sexual content, explicit CONSENT, explicit language, dom!alex ryan, sub fem!reader, cunnilingus, use of alcohol, mild restraining (of fem!reader), sarcasm and so much of it, pillow talk

warning: god i hope i covered all the tags just exercise caution mkay? nothing too crazy happening here, no hard kinks, but it’s a threesome so just be aware lots is happening lols!! explicit consent is given for everything going on, everyone is happy in the end. okay cool!

words: 9.2k

a/n: you may have seen this on ao3 already, but i only recently got into tumblr and i hope you enjoy it here… also please excuse the minor grammatical things, i cba to screw with the formatting right now… anyways, without further adieu:

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

read on ao3 :D

11:28: Hey, it’s Andy. I’m back in town and I dunno if you still use this number, but I’m hoping it’s you. I'm having a get-together at my place while I’m back home for a bit, if you want to stop by. X

My phone went off, dinging quite loudly, startling me out of what would’ve become a good night’s sleep that I was just drifting off into. I watched my hand reach out for my phone, feeling as if I was watching my own life through a movie screen in my half asleep state. I picked it up, and read over the message, my brows pinching together in the center.

What? I thought to myself, feeling rather confused for a few moments. Andy? Where had I ever met an Andy, and why would he have my number? Then it dawned on me, and a tired smile cracked across my tired face, eyes still hooded. Andy. We’d gone to Trinity College together back in 2008, and ended up being quite good friends. Of course I wouldn’t remember, being barely awake and all, but I knew him.

11:33: my gosh, andyyy!! hi!! it has been sooo long since i’ve seen you, how are you? you do have the right number :) and yes i will stop by ofc i will

His reply came quickly, his tone now increasing to my own excitability. At least, I thought it had. One could only tell so well through text.

11:34: Oh, great! It’s this Saturday at 6-7ish, I’ll send you my new address. Alex will be there & we’re inviting some older friends as well. I hope you remember Alex?

11:35: ohh yeah absolutely!! love you, love alex, etc etc. been too long. i am unfortunately about to go to sleep so night night hope we’ll talk between then and now :)

I didn’t stay awake long enough to read the reply that came through, curling up under my covers. While he’d been off starting his career and touring internationally, I’d finished college, and began working a cubicle job in a corporate setting. Stable, yes, but surprisingly draining.

More quickly than I’d expected, Saturday evening had rolled around and I was plugging Andrew’s address into Google Maps to navigate there. It would take around 20 minutes to get there, and luckily for me, it was only 6:10 right now. I’d get there right in between when he told me to arrive, 6-7.

The drive was uneventful, but finding parking around what was his now evidently large house in a secluded part of town proved difficult. Between the woods, the private roads, and the parking on the side of the roads which were rather packed already, it was annoying. But I found a space, and walked up to his house. I knocked on the door and let myself in, realizing his home was pretty full of people already.

I looked around for a few moments, not recognizing many faces, when I heard a throaty voice calling out from behind me.

“Hey! Bubbles, how are ya?” He said, with a light laugh at the end.

I turned around and looked at the man calling out to me, Andrew himself. I cringed internally at the nickname, bubbles, but laughed anyway. They’d started calling me bubbles after I blew a piece of gum into a bubble that was so large that when it popped, it ended up all over my face straight out of a cartoon. The nickname stuck.

“Andy!” I squealed, still laughing and now trotting up to him, arms open. “Ah, I’m amazing, how are you?” I inquired, after a quick hug.

He laughed, loud as ever, and it stretched out his cheeks. The stretching of his skin drew my attention to a beard he hadn’t had before. It was… Hot, especially with that hair–

“I’m great, bubbles. Busy as all hell, but y’know, being a musician and all that…” He trailed off, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging his shoulders as he smiled sheepishly, looking to the ground for a moment.

Ah. Even after all this time, Hozier , a world renowned musician was still just… Andy. A shy man from the more rural part of Wicklow. I found it to be endearing as all hell.

“Yeah, of course. It’s understandable. What was this, your… Sophomore album?”

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Wasteland, Baby!’ I’m really happy with it. I’ve got a new EP coming out as well to go with it, has some unreleased stuff that couldn’t make it onto the main record, y’know? Time constraints and all that. It would’ve ended up being a two disk album, and the label didn’t like that at first.”

I hummed and nodded along, moving my eyes up and down his body as he got into full nerdy musician mode, going on about his music and the label and the ideas behind each song. He didn’t seem to notice I was only half paying attention. Damn, between that hair and that beard, plus the crisp t-shirt and slacks he was wearing… I was snapped out of my reverie when Alex Ryan walked up to us, a big cheesy grin on his face.

“Bubbles!” He called out, slinging an arm over my shoulder, laughing a little bit. “How’re you going?”

I raised an eyebrow as Andrew sighed and rolled his eyes, grumbling something about Australia under his breath.

“Australia?” I laughed out, then turned more to face Alex. “And how’re you going? ”

Andrew cut in as Alex tried to start explaining what was going on. “Alex came to Australia on tour with me last month and he’s been using their version of ‘how are you’, which is ‘how’re you going’, ever since. Because he’s a pretentious douche who likes to seem more well traveled than he is.” They bickered, but they’d been best mates since I could remember.

I giggled and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “Ah, I see. Well I am going absolutely fine , thanks, Alex. Yourself?”

He gave me a playful wink that I felt a bit too flustered by, for my personal liking, and shrugged. “Doing grand, thanks. Hey, I’ll go grab the three of us some drinks! It’s been too long since we all sat down with a pint together.” He snapped away from my gaze and turned to Andrew, jerking his head toward the kitchen in a bid to get him to follow. He gave me a quick wave as he walked away, and followed Alex calmly.

Alex always reminded me of a mix between… A squirrel and a cat. When you put him in front of a set of keys or a guitar, he was the most talented man you’d ever meet. Extremely elegant, dancing across the instrument with his fingers. His fingers were long, and super flexible from all the playing he did.

However, in any other setting? Squirrely. All over the place. Totally unable to keep his focus on less than three things at a time. It was pitiful, really. How does one go from Australian slang, to asking how one is actually doing, to grabbing drinks in the span of… What was that, two minutes? Less than, probably.

The night went on in a blur of drinks. All sorts of drinks, and I knew not to mix my liquor, but that hard seltzer sounded so refreshing after such a heavy Guinness from a can, and that dirty martini handmade by Andrew himself sounded so yummy, and those jello shots sounded way too appealing to my sweet tooth to resist…

I’d arrived at 6:30pm, and by 9pm I was totally sloshed. It was a Saturday night, though, and I was with my old college friends, who was going to stop me? Neither of them did, and obviously, I wasn’t going to stop myself.

While sitting across the couch from Andrew, I suddenly noticed how nice and buttery his voice was. Sure, he was a career singer, but we’d been friends before any of that. Then, I noticed how sharp his jawline had gotten, how his beard only made it any clearer. Damn, I wanted to run my fingers through that long hair…

Oh, shit.

Suddenly, I was much closer to him than I’d intended to be, and my fingers were running through his hair, and he was looking at me with raised eyebrows, yet he didn’t do anything to stop me. His finger didn’t even twitch. Did he… Was he enjoying this? His face was confused, yet not upset. Somewhat pleased, relaxed, even.

I pulled back after I realized what I’d been doing, flushed deeply, and cleared my throat before taking another tentative sip of my water. I knew I needed to sober up, and bad, so here I sat with a tall glass of water (not referring to Andrew, thanks very much) and what I was almost sure was a slice of strawberry pie, but it could’ve easily had a bit of rhubarb in it too. Either way, divine.

Andrew leaned closer to me after I’d pulled away, a tilted, shy smile on his face. “Why’d you stop?” He muttered, causing me to choke on the bite currently in my mouth. The tart flavor caused a weird tingling sensation in the back of my jaw that I thoroughly enjoyed.

“Stop- Stop what?” I asked quietly, dumbly. I knew exactly what he was talking about, I’d just had my hands in his hair, for crying out loud!

He laughed and grabbed my wrists to gently pull me forward, closer to him. He was just as drunk as I was, I could smell it on his breath. “Y’know, bubbles, I always had a little bit of a crush on you.” He murmured, the warmth of his breath washing over my face like the tide of the sea coming in as he spoke so close to my face.

I choked again, my heart rate skyrocketing at the last three words. A crush on me? He’d made fun of me relentlessly when we’d been college friends! Lightheartedly, of course, and he got it as good as he gave it. Still, though, it was surprising to hear.

“Andy, what?” I laughed, but he shrugged and went on. I couldn’t believe he was serious, but he was. His forehead was suddenly resting on mine, in a way that was far too intimate for a pair of friends that I liked way too much.

“I said, I’d always had a little crush on you in college.” Andrew whispered, his voice much lower than it had been a few minutes before.

I let out a surprised huff of breath and couldn’t quite find the words to reply. That was… 10 or 11 years ago, now. We’d literally been 18 at the time, and he’d just thought to bring it up at the age of twenty-nine ? Absolutely unreal. Endearing, oddly enough. I couldn’t say I was mad or anything like that; surprised was more accurate.

“I see,” I breathed out in reply, hoping I didn’t sound as dumbly flustered as I felt. He flustered me. Him and Alex, both, flustered me.

I felt his hands snake up from my wrists to my shoulders, the callous of his fingertips brushing over the bare skin that my blouse didn’t quite cover. He quietly asked, leaning in further to whisper in my ear, if it was okay. I almost laughed in reply, the question was so ridiculous. It was more than okay. I felt strangely enthralled by his hands gently moving from my wrists, to my shoulders, and down to the middle of my back, pulling me closer still. I was almost on his lap.

“Yes,” I finally uttered. “Absolutely.”

Two words. Two words were apparently all it took for him to drag me roughly onto his lap and crash his lips down against mine. It was glorious. Everything about it felt just right. Not that this was one of those moments where it was like, as soon as his lips touched mine there were fireworks and I knew we’d be in love forever, but it was indescribably satisfying. Like an itch that was too far down my back for me to reach, had finally been scratched. I hadn’t gotten a decent one night stand in for a while , maybe now was my time.

Andrew’s hands gently moved down a bit further before his thumbs were able to hook under my shirt. I knew he’d ask if it was okay, if I was okay with it for him to keep going. I decided to mitigate the question by physically answering before he could even ask it by arching my back forward and pressing my chest against his. He grunted against my lips and nipped at my bottom lip, causing me to yelp slightly before his lips moved down and across my jaw, towards the thin skin of my neck. I huffed out a breath and closed my eyes, my head tilting back and to the right, my skin stretching in a delicious way as he sucked and bit at it. His hands ran under my shirt and now rested on top of the bare skin below. They were warm, and large, and I loved it.

Damn, I was definitely gonna have hickeys tomorrow.

My legs straddled around his waist, and I felt something… Hard prodding at my inner thigh, and I giggled to myself slightly. I’d managed to make him hard already, and all we’d done was kiss a little. Well, maybe not just a little, by now… But we hadn’t done anything but kiss.

I moved my leg, just slightly. Just enough to get him to gasp in a bit out of surprise and maybe a little pleasure, and he nipped down hard on my neck. I yelped and giggled again, his fingertips digging into my hips resting on top of his.

The couch dipped down next to us and he let out a soft sigh against my collarbone, rubbing the tip of his nose against it and up my neck.

“Nice perfume.” Andrew murmured, his voice muffled by my skin. I thanked him quietly, the words tumbling down from my lips. I moved my hands up from the middle of his back to the nape of his neck, where I rested my palms and allowed my fingers to move up and tangle in his hair.

He growled and his fingertips tightened against my hips again, his lips and teeth and tongue, oh, God, the things I wanted that tongue to do to me right now, going back to work on my skin.

I heard a bit of laughter to my right, coming from the direction in which the couch had dipped down, and Alex’s voice rang out, snarky and loud in the nicest possible way, next to us.

“Aye, Andy, you got a pretty one here tonight.” He teased, snickering at the sight of us. One of Andrew’s hands moved off of my hip, and I glanced over at it for a moment to find Andrew giving Alex the middle finger. I laughed a little and closed my eyes again, resting my forehead against the top of Andrew’s head.

“Shut up, you dick.” he growled against my skin, nipping at me again out of frustration. Alex laughed again and scooted closer to us, his voice lowering.

“You know, we both liked her back at Tee-Cee, Andy.” Alex drawled, pronouncing the individual letters ‘T’ and ‘C’. It was what students and alumni alike referred to Trinity College as. Andrew sighed and stopped again for a moment to glance over at him. I felt that glare from where I was sitting, and I didn’t even need to look .

“Shut. Up!” He scolded again, not turning back to me immediately this time. He did get there eventually though, and my heart was pounding in my chest as his tongue ran back up my clavicle and over my common carotid. Both liked me while we were at school? If they’d both managed to fluster me before, this was an entirely different thing. Especially with Andrew’s mouth all over my face and my neck and my chest.

Alex snickered again a moment later, and suddenly a third hand was resting gently on top of my thigh. “Aw, come on, Andrew!” He whined, playfully. “I thought we liked to share.”

I paused. Andrew paused. The room stopped spinning the way it had been before.

Share?

Wait, did these two have some sort of weird threesome agreement going on?

Share?!

Andrew’s head fell forward and he let out a huff, turning to Alex with a death stare. “Alex, no. Not with her. Come on. If she were any other girl, then fine, but we know her. She won’t go home tomorrow morning and have some crazy story to tell her friends. We are her friends.” He drawled, his voice low as he leaned in towards Alex to make sure nobody but Alex and myself could hear him.

I sat there thinking to myself, as Andrew spoke lowly to Alex: was a weird threesome agreement that weird if I found myself kind of wanting to be their third for the night?

They were both attractive men. My type, anyways. Both my age. Both were clearly into me…

I cleared my throat. “Sorry, but what does- what does share mean, exactly?” I squeaked, my head tilting to one side a little more as I tried to view both of them.

Alex smirked and winked at Andrew triumphantly. “Ah, sweetheart, that is all up to you.”

Andrew sighed and his head tilted back, his jaw tightening. His face looked like he was in a mixture of pain and anticipation. I couldn’t tell why, but a tiny smile quirked at the corners of his mouth and he huffed a little, shaking his head before straightening himself up.

“Alex, you are a goddamn freak. And not in a fun sexy way, you’re just weird. ” Andrew grumbled, a small smile still resting upon his face. He reached over and flicked his forehead, and Alex recoiled a little, a smirk playing across his lips as he laughed slightly. Andrew turned to me again, with a more genuine, but still rather gentle, smile. He leaned in closer to my ear and mumbled lowly into it. “You wanna do it, bubbles? Got a whole guest bedroom upstairs that is pristine, and hopefully to your liking…”

My breath caught in my throat. What, exactly, would go down in that bedroom wasn’t specific to me just yet. I knew it would be unholy. Sexual, for sure. Kinky? That seemed to be a possibility at this point.

I needed to think about it. A threesome. With two of my closest guy friends from college. I mean, yeah, they were both undeniably hot. Andrew had this amazing hair and a sharp ass jawline and Alex’s hands alone had me swooning, but this was a lot to jump into at once.

Then it occurred to me: I was already sitting on Andrew’s lap, straddling him, and Alex’s hand was already on my right thigh. Clearly they were into me just as much as I was into them, and I couldn’t believe that thought hadn’t come to me until just then. I cleared my throat, and sucked in a breath.

I looked over at Andrew, then towards Alex, my face flushed. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do it.” I whispered, almost unable to believe the words coming from my own lips. Not that I was unsure about it or anything, I just couldn’t believe I’d found myself in this situation. I was a goddamn cubicle worker at a sales firm, for crying out loud!

A wolfish grin spread across Alex’s lips and Andrew’s already existing smile widened a little as he pushed me off of him to stand up, and I followed suit. Alex came up behind me and put his hand on my lower back, jerking his head towards the stairs about 10 or 15 feet in front of us. “Shall we, love?” He murmured in my ear. I nodded silently and Andrew walked ahead of us, leading the way to what I’d assumed was the guest bedroom he’d referenced just a minute or two ago. I felt a blush creeping up my neck, and I realized Alex saw it too as he chuckled and tightened his hand around my hip for a moment as we followed behind Andrew.

“A little nervous, hm?” He purred into my ear, causing me to cough in surprise. I stuttered for a few moments as my brain short circuited. This motherfu- he was whispering into my ear! He knew what he was doing, goddamn it, and it was not helping the situation!

“I- No!” I squeaked out, causing him to laugh a little more and Andrew laughed along with him. We’d reached the top of the stairs now, and he took a turn and opened the door to what was evidently his guest bedroom. I was surprised by the sight of it.

It wasn’t like, barely lived in, half filled with unused items and exercise equipment being used as a storage space. It had a really large window facing the east, and a large bed in the middle of the wall opposite the window, covered in a set of white sheets, and a fluffy comforter with a dark green duvet cover on it. In one corner, nearest to the dark wood dresser, there stood a thriving monstera plant and across from that, another hanging vine sort of plant from the ceiling. The bed frame, too, was sturdy dark wood and so were the bedside tables on either side of the bed. It was cohesive, cozy, well decorated.

I giggled a little to myself and noted the clear durability of the bed frame, glad to see it wouldn’t… Potentially break under the weight of the three of us doing whatever this was going to become on the top of it. Andrew quirked a brow at my giggles and I shrugged and waved him off, my hands clasped in front of myself afterwards. He cleared his throat and gestured to the bed somewhat awkwardly, not quite looking at me as his other hand was rubbing the back of his neck.

“If you want, you can, ehm, sit down for a moment. I’ll be right back.” He muttered, then turned out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. I was slightly confused, but sat down on the end of the bed anyway, and Alex followed me, standing in front of me.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just grabbing a few things.” He said lowly, one of his hands gently grabbing my chin and tilting my head upwards, and he hunched over to my level. “You mind?” He murmured, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip.

I couldn’t find it in myself to utter a reply, so I just nodded silently, and he leaned in, his lips gently pressing against mine. My eyes fluttered shut and I took in his kiss, returning it just as gently as he had given it. I noticed his style was much different from Andrew’s. Andrew was aggressive. He treated it like he was hungry, almost. Like he was afraid that if he wasn’t abrasive enough with it I wouldn’t want any more of him. Alex was different. His gentleness in his movements came not from a lack of confidence, but from an abundance of it. He knew there was no need to rush through any of it, because he felt as though there was no point when he was such a wantable person. It almost bordered on arrogance, but it was… Comforting, in a way. He was more sure of himself, and therefore, so was I.

Alex’s lips moved gently over mine, his tongue running over the seam of them, asking but not begging for entrance. My lips parted for him, but as soon as I did that, his mouth moved down to my jaw and across my neck. He kneeled down in front of me to presumably be more comfortable, and he took his time mapping out every inch of skin he could possibly access above the neckline of my shirt. I gasped as he nipped gently at my collarbone, his teeth grazing my skin. He chuckled against me, the sound muffled by my body, and moved his hands to my hips.

The door clicked open again just then, and Andrew came in and set some things down at the small desk in the room, tutting. “Ah, you’ve started without me, I take it.” He grumbled, pulling his shirt off over his head, and proceeding to put up his hair.

Alex sighed against my skin, his breath warm, and pulled away. “Not quite, Andy, just getting… Warmed up.” He said, grinning at the end. He turned back to look at me again and pulled at the waistband of my pants, then the hemline of my shirt. “You wanna do us a favor and get those useless things off, pretty girl?” He murmured, and I flushed.

I swallowed and cleared my throat, then croaked out a response barely louder than the whirring of the central heating system. “Yeah, sure.” I replied, then stood up slowly. Alex did the same, and as I pulled all my clothing off except for the bra and panties below, I watched the boys do the same, leaving their boxers on.

Oh my god, their boxers were tight. Tented, if you will. At just the premise of it all, this was the state they were in. And I couldn’t blame them. Alex stalked back over to me and kneeled down in front of me again, while Andrew climbed onto the bed behind me. My breath caught in my throat as he kneeled behind me on the bed, his hands resting on my shoulders as he pressed gentle kisses and nips along my trapezius and the side of my neck, while Alex hooked his fingers under the waistband of my underwear and pressed gentle kisses along my hip, then up to my chest. I closed my eyes and took in their movements, Andrew’s fingers brushing up and down my arms, Alex’s lips working their way over my entire torso. I sighed out and Alex paused just as I was beginning to make sense of it all, tugging at the waistband of my panties again.

“You mind if I take these off, pretty?” He mumbled against the top of one of my breasts, and I shook my head no. “Lovely.” He replied, and tugged them down, throwing them to the side. He rested my right ankle on one of his shoulders, and began kissing up my leg, a small grin on his face.

He worked past my femoral artery, past my knee, and up, up, up… And then stopped. So close to where I wanted him to be, his nose right up against the outer layers of the center of me. I looked down at him, my face turning into desperate confusion, and let out a disgruntled noise.

“What- Goddamn you, what are you doing? Why’d you stop?” I whined, coming off far more needy than I’d meant to.

Andrew chuckled against my skin, and Alex laughed beneath me and rolled his eyes a little. “Just gonna ask if it was okay for me to eat you out, darling.” He murmured, the warmth of his breath washing over me. My breath caught in my throat at the feeling and I swallowed again.

“Yes, please do. I am- that is more than okay.” I breathed out, my leg twitching over his shoulder.

Alex looked past me at Andrew and gave him a wink before hoisting my other leg up over his shoulder, and he leaned in closer. His tongue brushed over my folds, and I closed my eyes, and once again, tried to make sense of the feelings on my body.

“Shit.” I whispered, my heartbeat quickening in my chest.

Alex laughed a little and the sound caused his lips to vibrate the tiniest bit against me as his chest rumbled with the noise, and I clenched my jaw. He continued to move his mouth against me, his tongue darting out of his mouth every so often to lick up through the folds and over my clit, and everytime that got a little bit of friction I sucked in a tiny breath, and my body ached for more. I found myself leaning back on my elbows, my head pressing against Andrew’s chest as he sat behind me.

Alex’s mouth worked its way further up, his mouth now sheerly focused on my clit, his tongue circling around it and his lips cupped around it, sucking and licking. I was gasping and trying not to let myself moan out too loudly. There was still an entire party going on downstairs. A hot jolt of pleasure ran up through my body every few moments, and it proved to be a rather difficult battle.

Andrew leaned down further from behind me on the bed, towards my ear, and he purred out some words. “You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” He said, his hands coming up from behind me and cupping over my breasts. “You’re so beautiful, with his lips on your clit, legs on his shoulders, with your body writhing. Absolutely radiant.” His hands squeezed around my breasts, and his lips moved to my neck as he began kissing me.

I gasped and my legs inadvertently tightened around Alex’s head as his tongue started lapping at me and sucking against me even faster, harsher than before. He heard me getting praised and increased the intensity of his own actions. He knew the praise made me feel even more needy, even more wanting, and he responded in kind. My suspicions from earlier were concisely confirmed: this was, indeed, not the first time that they’d done this together. They had a system, knew how to make whatever partner they had that night feel as good as possible. It was working, I had to admit.

I felt a distinctive twisting sensation in my stomach and let out a whine, pleasure bolting up my spine and through the core of my body. “Ah, damn it–” I whined, my breathing picking up, chest heaving. Andrew’s hands moved under my bra, his hands now sitting against my bare skin. He rolled my pebbled nipples in between his fingers, and I yelped with pleasure, my back arching up. He laughed richly at the motion and leaned down to bite and kiss at the skin of my neck, smiling.

“I take it you liked that, beauty, hm?” He cooed, moving one of his hands up to tangle through the strands of my hair, his fingertips gently massaging my scalp. I whimpered and exhaled sharply, seeing stars behind my eyelids.

“Yes.” I blurted, before being cut off by the sounds of my own cries tumbling from my lips, Alex’s mouth working strongly against my core, his tongue lapping at my clit. I kept moaning and crying out, my stomach continuing to twist into knots at the sensations running through my body. My lips remained parted, and Andrew would occasionally reach down my bra and pinch one of my nipples between his calloused fingertips.

The twisting got stronger and stronger, my legs starting to quiver on Alex’s shoulders, and suddenly a wave of pleasure washed over my body, the intensity almost like a burning. The earth felt as though it had stopped spinning on its axis and I felt everything dissolve around me to nothing more than a chorus of white noise and bright light, caused by the sheer intensity of the shockwaves crashing over my entire body.

I slowly came down from the experience, my heart stuttering and pounding in my chest, and I opened my eyes again, glancing around myself in… wonder? A man had actually managed to make me cum, unassisted, for once in my life. Truly astonishing.

Andrew’s mouth pulled away from my neck and he laughed slightly, looking at me with one raised eyebrow. “Sufficient?” He lightly questioned, his voice gentle and low.

I breathlessly looked over at him, my chest still heaving below his large, gentle hands. “Um… Yes, I would say so.” I breathed, my throat dry and my vision still somewhat unfocused.

Alex pulled his mouth off of me and looked up at me through his eyelashes, the skin surrounding his mouth glistening. He looked almost feral, hungry for more yet satisfied at the same time. He licked his lips and gave me a tilted smile, standing up after a few moments. “You taste lovely, doll.” he teased, looking down at me. I felt my face flush and my head still felt a little fuzzy as he spoke to me, and I closed my eyes and let my head fall back to get in a decent breath, or as decent I could make it right now, anyway.

Andrew tapped me on the shoulder from behind and my eyes fluttered open as I turned my head back to glance over my shoulder at him. “Yes?” I croaked, my voice surprisingly hoarse. Clearly, I’d been much louder than intended and my throat was paying the price.

He laughed a little and raised his eyebrows slightly, then leaned in closer to my ear and husked his words out. “What’s your opinion on riding, bubbles?”

I choked on my words for what seemed like the millionth time this evening. Jesus christ, the man really got down to the point, didn’t he? However, I did genuinely consider the question. “I’m… A fan.” I whispered back, my blood rushing to my head from the excitement and embarrassment running through my veins. Andrew chuckled lowly as Alex let out a huff and pulled on my wrists to help me sit up properly again.

“Ah, so he gets the delight of actual intercourse first, and I don’t, after you just came all over my mouth? Very egalitarian.” Alex grumbled sarcastically. Andrew cut in himself before I could reply.

“Oh, come on, it isn’t as if you didn’t enjoy every moment of making her cum all over your mouth, Alex. Stop your moaning and groaning, you’ll get your bloody chance. Don’t forget I sat here and watched all of that.”

Alex rolled his eyes and huffed again, then walked around to the other side of the bed, standing beside one of the bedside tables. His expression was rather sardonic, but he wasn’t actually mad, it seemed, rather… Anticipatory. I’d finally put my finger on it: that was it. I expected a rather long night ahead, not that I was complaining.

Andrew got up and shimmied off his boxers, throwing them haphazardly to one corner of the room, jostling the monstera plant that had initially caught my attention after I first entered the bedroom. He sank down onto the bed following those movements, a tilted smile on his face.

My gaze snapped to his cock, and I looked at it with some surprise. He was clean shaven, and looked satisfactorily large, but not to the point of causing pain or discomfort, with a noticeable vein running down the length of his shaft.

I blushed and smiled a little to myself, looking at the light pink color of his tip, and I found myself telling him my thoughts before I had the chance to put my filter back into place. “Your tip’s a pretty color.” I muttered.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, his grin widening before he let out a light laugh. Andrew had always been quite confident of his cock, but the color of his glans had clearly never crossed his mind. It was a light rosy color, pinker than the rest of his pale skin, with a rather decent ridge. “Ah, thank you…” he replied quietly, his eyes raking over the rest of my body. I felt a little rush of shyness, as I’d never had two people looking at me like this before, and it suddenly occurred to me exactly how intimate the situation I was in had become.

Andrew seemed to pick up on his, as he grabbed my hands gently and tugged me forward, his smile becoming smaller and more tilted again, akin to a smirk. “No need to be nervous, love, just… Enjoy the experience. I most certainly am.”

I sucked in a breath and let it out in an effort to calm myself down, and smiled slightly at him. “Mhm, you’re right…” I breathed out, and moved myself over him, my hips hovering just above his cock. It stood strongly upright, perpendicular to the rest of his body, and I watched his breath catch in his throat as I moved just above him. He swallowed and looked between my face and my hips, eyes wide, face flushed.

“May I?” I whispered, and he nodded quickly, his expression turning to something like desperation.

“ Please, god…” he replied, his voice almost inaudible.

I swallowed, my throat dry, and sunk down onto him, a gasp escaping me at the sudden stretching I experienced. I realized rather quickly that I had moved too fast, and his fingers immediately moved up to my hips and gripped them with bruising force, with his head falling back and a quiet groan escaping his lips.

“Jesus– Inconsolable weeping christ -” he growled out, his eyes squeezing shut, his voice tight. I let out a huff and closed my own eyes for a few moments, and sighed out, resting my hands over his own large ones, still gripping my hips.

“That’s a new one,” I breathed out, beginning to slowly move myself up and down, the muscles of my thighs tensed. I let my head fall back for a few moments before my neck craned forward, the other way. “Care to explain?”

Andrew's breath hitched and a frustrated look crossed his face, his fingertips digging into my flesh again. “Not the time for small talk.” he growled, then took in a long breath. “Fuck, relax , goddamn it, you’re tighter than a bloody vice.”

I sighed and bit my lip, his mild command only fueling my tenseness in the most positive possible way. I set a rapid pace, wanting more, more, more. More of him, more of whatever this had become.

I inhaled sharply and tightened my hands over his own, both of us holding each other tightly. The muscles in my legs strained over his hips as I rocked on top of him, and I saw veins bulging in his forehead. I looked down at where the two of us met, and I saw his cock slipping in and out of me, and my gaze was fixated on the sheer satisfaction of seeing that.

The bed dipped behind me, and I felt a pair of hands place themselves at the base of my neck, then dip down and brush over my shoulders. The light touch gave me goosebumps and I shuttered, swallowing hard.

Alex’s voice sounded quietly from behind me, directly into my ear. “You do look remarkably tense, doll.” he purred. “Do our Andy a favor here and just… Let the feelings run through you, don’t try and force it.” His lips met my shoulder after he’d finished speaking, and his hands, lithe and flexible, found their way to just under my breasts.

He began to massage the flesh as he placed gentle kisses on the nape of my neck, running his nose from the base of my neck up to my hairline. I groaned quietly and leaned back, my head pressing against his collarbone, his body supporting me.

The action of leaning back while still bouncing on top of Andrew caused his cock to hit just the right spot while inside of me, and I gasped, my eyes snapping open.

I clenched around him again and his hips jerked up, a loud cry escaping his mouth. “Fucking christ, you’re going to– God fucking damn it, you’re so good, sweetheart, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Just– fuck , good girl, just like that.” he rasped, his voice strained and hoarse.

Alex nuzzled into my skin from behind, his fingers dancing up further onto my breasts, his hands cupping them as he began to massage more deeply. My nipples sat squarely in the palm of his hand, and he let out a low hum of approval against my skin as Andrew stuttered. “Look at him.” he whispered. “You’re doing so well for him. He’s barely even able to speak. That’s all you, babe.”

whimpered and a tight expression came across my face, my eyebrows pinched together in the middle, eyes clenched shut, my jaw tight. I bit back a moan and Alex tutted behind me, pinching my nipples.

“You sound so lovely when you make noises for us, don’t hold back, honey.” he cooed, and my brain melted at his words. I let out a guttural cry, my pace quickening atop Andrew. Our hips rutted together and I heard him let out a groan from below me, his breath rasping. I opened my eyes and looked down at him beneath me, his face twisted up.

“Jesus fucking ever-loving christ , oh my God . Exactly like that, love, you’re– you’re so– Fuck !” He exclaimed, and his back arched up off of the bed.

I gasped and threw my head back, my eyes fluttering shut again as he pushed himself further up into me, pressing hard against me. He gasped in a few breaths and continued rutting into me, babbling with his face twisted up. “I’m– Christ, I’m coming– I– God .” He sputtered, his fingernails digging into my skin.

I let out another whimper and threw my head back onto Alex’s shoulder, and he let out a low chuckle and pinched my nipples in between his fingertips once more, rolling them between his fingers. He removed one of his hands and moved it to the back of my head and gently pulled on my hair, moving my head to the side as he lightly bit me just above my jugular vein.

My pace on top of Andrew became uneven and slower, my muscles spasming and shaking as the spring in my abdomen which had been coiling tighter and tighter this whole time finally released. I whined and clenched my thighs around Andrew’s hips, coming to a standstill as waves of fiery pleasure ripped through my body. I gasped in a few breaths and collapsed against Alex, my breaths coming in slow heaves.

Alex let out a low chuckle and nuzzled into the crook of my neck for a moment, then pulled away slightly to speak. “You smell delightful . Like sex. Very good sex, at that.”

I let out a breathy noise, my throat dry, and took a few deep breaths before I slowly lifted myself off of Andrew. He let out a small whimper at the loss of the warmth surrounding him, and I collapsed backwards onto Alex with my full weight. He laughed slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to my temple after maneuvering me to turn to face him.

“Catch your breath, darling.” he cooed, wrapping his arms around me and running the tips of his fingers up and down my spine. “You were absolutely fantastic. Andrew’s basically just a pile of flesh and bone now.”

Andrew gave a breathy laugh and moved his hands behind his head, his elbows bent up. “Have fun watching, then, Alex?” He teased, a smile on his face.

Alex smirked and sighed out, pretending to mull over the question, then nodded. “A lovely time, as a matter of fact.”

They both laughed together and Andrew slowly sat up, hoisting himself off of the bed and rather standing next to it. I was still collapsed against Alex and he hummed and pressed a gentle kiss just behind my ear before laying me down on the plush mattress of the bed, stomach down.

He began to press small kisses against my skin, starting at the tip of my ear, then moving slowly down to the nape of my neck. I let out a heavy breath as he kissed my skin, feeling his hands gently hold my waist from above. His lips ran down my spine until he reached just above my hips, where he stopped and moved back up again.

Andrew sat back down on the bed next to where I was laying and intertwined his fingers through my hair and let out a long sigh, carding through the thick mass of hair atop my head. I hummed contentedly and allowed my eyes to flutter shut, taking a few deep breaths. We sat contentedly for a few minutes like this, and I caught my breath.

Alex’s hands eventually gave my waist a squeeze and he leaned down to whisper in my ear again. “You ready?” He questioned, and I looked over my shoulder at him and nodded. Round three. I couldn’t say I was any type of upset about the prospect. I slowly sat up and turned around to face him, and he chuckled and shook his head.

“No need to face me. Lay down at the end of the bed, love, your head at the foot of it.”

I raised my eyebrows and then gave him a questioning look, confused as to why he could possibly want me there. “Why… For what?” I slowly asked.

He shrugged and smirked at me. “I’d just like to try something, yeah? Is that alright?”

I sighed and thought about it. What could he possibly want to try? The possibilities, frankly, seemed endless. It couldn’t have been anything too extreme, I was sure he’d be aware not to do anything ridiculous. It was already insane enough to have agreed to a threesome on a whim, at what was just meant to be a houseparty.

I sighed again and swallowed hard, putting aside my trepidation and allowing excitement to take over instead. “Yeah, alright.” I replied quietly, and made my way slowly to the end of the bed, laying down the way he’d instructed me to.

I watched Andrew get off of the bed and stand aside, looking at Alex expectantly, almost as if waiting for an instruction. Alex smirked and moved to kneel in between my legs, gently resting a hand on one of my ankles.

“May I?” he asked, his other hand resting on my upper thigh. I nodded and he slowly moved closer to me, my legs spreading out beneath him. His head came to press against my entrance and I sucked in a breath a little.

Andrew laughed quietly and kneeled on the ground at the foot of the bed, his hands resting on my shoulders, his thumbs moving to massage small circles into my muscles. “Ah, darling, relax, you’ve been so tense this whole time. Believe me, if you say the word, all this can stop or change in some way. Your consent, explicit consent , is what makes this fun, hm?”

I took a deep breath and nodded, swallowing hard again. A small smile appeared on my face. “Yeah, sure. You’re– no, you’re right.”

He nodded affirmatively from above me and let his hands rest gently on my shoulders even as the motions of his massaging stopped. I looked up at Alex, waiting for his movements.

“We good?” He asked quietly, his expression full of anticipation and excitement. I nodded, and his hands came up to grip my hips gently, and he was careful to make sure that his fingers did not touch the points at which Andrew had so deeply pressed into earlier that evening. He was more careful, slower about these things than Andrew tended to be. The way they contrasted each other was lovely, especially in this situation.

I felt Alex’s hips move forward, pushing his cock into me slowly. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes as he buried himself into me, and I let out a heavy breath. I hadn’t taken much time to properly look at his cock, but based on the feeling, I could tell it was slightly thicker in diameter, about the width of his two thumbs put together side by side, and it stretched me slightly more.

I jolted a little as he slowly pulled back out of me, and he tutted under his breath. “Doll, you– fuck– god, you’re lovely, but you need to be still . I need you to be still for me, okay?” He murmured, and nodded towards Andrew.

I was confused about his nod towards Andrew until his hands gently came down to hold my wrists and pull my arms above my head.

Alex smiled a little, satisfied, and looked down at me, his hands more firmly holding my hips against the mattress. “Is it alright if we hold you like this, love?” he murmured, and I gulped and nodded. Ah, this is what he meant by try something. I didn’t mind at all, I was just surprised momentarily.

“Yes, this is fine. It’s definitely alright.”

His smile grew a little larger and he nodded decisively. “Good. You say anything at all about it, and we’ll stop. One word is all you need to say.”

“Got it.”

He set a comfortable pace, not necessarily slow, but not horribly fast either. He found a comfortable middle point that seemed to be working well for both of us. His hips snapped against mine, and I found myself squirming beneath the pressure of his hands on my hips and Andrew’s hands holding my wrists above my head.

I arched my back a little, rather unsuccessfully, and let out a pant. “Oh, god.” I whined, feeling a twisting in my stomach.

“Ah– darling, you’re doing so well. Fuck . Absolutely– absolutely amazing.” He rasped, his head falling back for a moment as we both became engulfed in the sensations of it all. His hands tightened slightly for a moment as he buried himself into me over and over again, rutting his hips into mine.

I continued to squirm, and Andrew chuckled lightly from behind and leaned over me to give my jaw a kiss and a nip. I let out a strangled noise and he ran his nose over my neck, Alex rubbing his thumbs in circles against my skin.

He pulled my hips down harder onto his, seating himself back on his haunches as he found a comfortable, but faster, pace. “How are you feeling, love?” he breathed out, his head falling forward with pleasure, his eyes closing for a few moments.

I tried to string words together to properly form a sentence, but what came out amounted to what I could only describe as a whimpering type of moan. “I– Fine– Yes– oh, god. ” I almost sobbed, every sensation just piling on top of the one before it. I wanted so badly to move against him and make my clit rub up against his flesh properly, desperate to cum, yet I was being held down rather firmly.

He huffed out a response, his jaw clenching for a moment, the muscles in his neck straining. “ Christ , doll, you’re– god– Use your words. I don’t know what you need if you can’t say it, love.” he stuttered in between thrusts.

I whined and pressed my head firmly against the mattress, causing my neck to arch upwards. “I– fucking Christ – I want to cum–” I whimpered, my chest heaving. “Please?” I questioned, and he let out a low growl after I said please, his speed picking up rapidly.

“Good girl. Use your words.” He panted, his hands moving roughly down from my hips to my thighs, holding them in place around his waist as he set a brutal, but immensely satisfying pace.

I gasped in, then let out a cry, my body quaking beneath his as he drove himself in and out of me, almost frantic in his movements.

“ Christ almighty– Alex, god . Oh fuck, just like that, just there.” I gasped, my wrists straining against Andrew’s grip. He chuckled a little bit more darkly and leaned forward to kiss my forehead and then moved to nip at the tip of my ear.

“You sound nice, love. Especially with his name in your mouth, you know?” he muttered quietly, his thumbs moving in circles around my wrists.

A shiver went down my spine and a pool of fire started gathering in my stomach, and I almost sobbed again at the feeling of everything. Alex continued to slam into me, his pace unrelenting. I gasped in a breath, convulsing around him, my brain going fuzzy and my vision feeling starry as I toppled over the cliff I’d been teetering on and into the valley of my orgasm, panting and moaning beneath him.

He let out a deep, passionate sound, and his hands clutched my thighs and he stilled me. His pace stuttered and slowed down, until he stopped and threw his head back.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he growled. “You are really something else.” he slowly pulled out of me and both of their hands came off of me, and I melted into the bed, my breathing heavy.

I didn’t think I’d ever felt so spent, yet so satisfied in my entire life. I sighed out and propped myself up on my elbows, slowly. I glanced around myself. Alex had collapsed backwards onto the bed and Andrew wasn’t too far off, sitting in the armchair in one corner of the room, his breathing gentle. I laughed lightly and collapsed backwards again, shaking my head in disbelief.

Andrew stirred after a few moments and walked over to me, offering a hand. “Come on, love, let’s get you clean and comfortable.” he muttered, a gentle smile on his face.

I took his hand and stood up, sighing gently. “I suppose that is the correct course of action.”

He took me to the bathroom and started the shower for me, giving me soap and helping me into the tub, since my muscles were immensely weak and immensely sore at the time. That’ll happen when you do… whatever that was.

His hands ran through my hair gently, with shampoo and conditioner to get it washed properly. Andrew had a lot of hair, he knew how to handle the basics. He had to or else he’d look absolutely horrific all the time.

Around half an hour later, we’d both managed to get clean, and soon enough, he’d managed to kick Alex out of the guest room to go get cleaned up as well. I curled up in the bed, wearing one of Andrew’s shirts as pajamas, and let out a deep sigh.

We each went our separate ways that night for sleeping, as Andrew had purchased a needlessly large house for himself, and went to bed. It was some of the best sleep I’d ever had in my life.

The next morning, as I was walking out of his home, I turned to him and laughed a little. “Same time next week?”

He gave me a non-answer, a smirk and a wink, and shrugged. “See ya later, bubbles.”

[leejenowrld]

heart to heart — spoiler

pairing — surgeon! na jaemin x intern! y/n

genre — smut, fluff, angst, age gap (10 years, jaemin is older)

word count — 2.9k

authors note — this is quite a generous and lengthy spoiler, fans of ‘love me back’ and ‘back to you’ will appreciate this one a lot. if you’re not familiar with the other two stories in the ‘love and games universe’ then my only advice would be… become familiar LOL, anyways enjoy my loves <3 don’t say i never gave you anything 🫶

Hayoung’s eyes glitter with mischievous delight as she leans closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She’s always been the resident sleuth, devouring every headline, every whisper in the intern’s lounge, cataloguing names and dates like precious specimens in a private menagerie. For her, uncovering the hidden ties that bind people is as satisfying as stitching new stories into a patchwork quilt. Tonight, she’s your guide through an exclusive gallery of Jaemin’s inner circle, each figure more beguiling than the last.

You draw in a shaky breath and edge nearer to the one‐way glass. Hayoung raises a slender finger toward the towering silhouette at the room’s center, a man whose presence feels as inevitable as gravity itself. His broad shoulders fill the crisp lines of his navy blazer, the fabric stretched ever so slightly across a sculpted chest, each inhale subtly flexing muscle beneath starched cotton. His trousers fall in a perfect, confidence-infused drape, hinting at powerful thighs honed by hours on hardwood courts. A tumble of dark curls grazes the nape of his neck, and when he turns, the faint arc of a smirk reveals a jaw so sharply carved it could slice through the hum of conversation. Even from here you catch the swirl of his cologne, something smoky, dark wood warmed by sunlight and feel the air shift around him. In that moment, Lee Jeno is less a man in a room and more a gravitational force: utterly magnetic, a living testament to strength and elegance entwined.

“That’s Lee Jeno, he doesn’t need an introduction. Everyone knows him, the most influential NBA player of his time.” She murmurs, voice hushed as if narrating a masterpiece. “See how he stands, shoulders squared like the corner of a backboard, every line of his tailored suit whispering discipline and power? He’s an NBA legend, record-breaker, triple-double maestro, the kind of athlete whose name is etched into every stat sheet and every fan’s heart. But more than that, he’s been Jaemin’s north star since they were toddlers dreaming of the same impossible things. He was the first to learn of Haeun’s little heartbeat, sneaking into the NICU at dawn to cradle the tiniest secret in his enormous hands. Off the court, he’s quietly philanthropic, rumor has it he quietly funds scholarships for underprivileged kids in his hometown, though he’d never brag. The media paints him as unflappable, the perfect poster boy for athletic excellence, but those who know him well call him fiercely loyal, the kind of man who shows up whether you’ve invited him or not.”

She lets that settle, then nods toward the woman at his side. “And that,” she continues, “is his fiancée, a vision of composure in couture. They met in college, drifted apart, then discovered that some bonds refuse to break. Their love story is whispered about in fashion circles and sports columns alike: soulful reunions, secret late-night text threads, wedding bells set to ring in just a few weeks. It’s the sort of romance you’d write a novel about—timeless, improbable, and entirely, irrepressibly theirs.”

Hayoung tells you that beyond the fairytale love story, she is every bit her own force of nature: the celebrated face of APEX, a powerhouse executive whose razor-sharp intellect and unflinching moral compass have steered global design initiatives and social impact campaigns for over a decade. In boardrooms she commands deference, in studio ateliers she inspires apprentices, and in every exhibition she curates she challenges viewers to see beauty as a catalyst for change. Each year, she and Jeno co-host the hospital’s signature gala, an evening of crystal chandeliers and whispered promises, where proceeds underwrite life-saving surgeries for families who simply can’t shoulder the cost. Hayoung recalls one gala night to you in particular. When little Haeun, clutching Bunny in one hand and a crayon-scrawled invitation in the other, was lifted onto the stage to present a check; the room hushed as the child’s earnest smile lit every heart, and tears of joy stained even the driest cheeks. It was a moment that crystallized their shared mission, to tether privilege to purpose, and to kindle hope in every young life they touch. Each December, they dispatch carefully curated gifts to every child in the ward—small treasures that, come Christmas morning, become lifelong keepsakes.

“Ryujin and Shotaro’s story is kind of a real-life fairy tale,” Hayoung begins, voice warm. “They met during college, he was mastering a contemporary routine, she was perfecting a lyrical piece and sparks flew over perfect pirouettes. Together they opened a tiny dance school in a repurposed loft, teaching six students and dreaming of bigger things. Now? Twelve studios later, they’ve trained hundreds of young dancers, from hopeful amateurs to budding professionals, and their outreach programs have given every child, no matter their background, a chance to feel the magic of movement. They’re always giggling when they talk about how their after-class water breaks turned into marathon brainstorming sessions. ‘What if we could heal with dance?’ and how every new studio opening felt like adding another heartbeat to the city’s rhythm.”

“And that dream brought them here,” she continues, tipping her voice conspiratorially. “Ryujin and Shotaro now co-design the hospital’s pediatric dance-therapy wing, turning sterile hallways into places where little feet learn strength and resilience. They’ve taught Haeun to pirouette past her fears, remember that time she insisted on ‘just one more spin’ even after her echo scan?—and they’ve choreographed holiday performances where she’s always the star. Their partnership isn’t just about fundraising or fancy recitals; it’s about showing every child that joy and healing can bloom side by side, and proving that sometimes the purest medicine comes in the form of music, movement, and a whole lot of love.”

“You see that hot guy by the window? That’s Lee Donghyuck, he’s a sports anchor whose name you can’t scroll past without wanting to know more. He’s the guy who turned a sideline gesture into a signature catchphrase, but off-camera he’s even more impressive: he spearheaded last year’s ‘Heart Run,’ a charity marathon that raised millions for the pediatric ward, and personally negotiated with sponsors so every dollar went straight to families in need. He’s brokered equipment donations, hosted fundraising luncheons in that very lounge, and somehow still remembers every child’s name who’s ever cross-checked him for an autograph. And don’t think he lets Haeun escape his radar. last month he rolled out a mini basketball hoop next to her play corner, just her size, and taught her how to drain a ‘baby three-pointer’ with a flourish. She squealed so loud you could hear it through the corridor, and he bent down afterward, ruffled her curls, and whispered, ‘You’re my MVP, princess.’ Even now she’s peeking at him, cheeks lighting up every time he offers a thumbs-up from across the room. With Donghyuck, it’s never just television bravado, it’s genuine joy in every high-five and every fundraiser he champions, a constant reminder that heroes come in many uniforms.”

She shifts her gaze to another figure: graceful, magnetic. “And finally, that’s Jang Karina. She doesn’t need any introduction, she’s a fashion powerhouse, her silhouette feels sculpted by intention. Karina began as a runway model whose charisma captivated editors and buyers alike; today she presides over a global design empire, her eponymous label celebrated for its architectural lines and daring palettes, while her beauty brand, praised for its clean formulas and bold pigments, has soared into the multimillion-dollar stratosphere. She pioneers mentorship programs for young designers, spearheads sustainable textile initiatives in collaboration with leading research labs, and curates charity auctions that funnel life-saving funds to children’s hospitals around the world. Every accolade she collects, Vogue cover shoots, Council of Fashion Designers awards, front-row appearances at the Met Gala, has been earned by a woman who learned to temper brilliance with empathy, who moved beyond the runway’s glare into the quiet confidence of a leader whose influence stretches from boardrooms to breaking bread with those she protects.”

“Karina and Dr. Na have a tenderness, a shared history written in soft confidences and midnight phone calls. They met during college before either dreamed of a spotlight, she, a striver fresh from design school; he, a busy surgical resident moonlighting to pay his rent. He didn’t like her in college, but they ran into each other in New York and started fucking intensely. Their first real date was over steaming bowls of bibimbap in a corner café, trading fears and ambitions until the staff nudged them out at closing time. Then life intervened—back-to-back seasons for her, grueling on-call marathons for him—and they drifted apart, each chasing dreams they’d once whispered to each other. They’re not really romantic but I’m sure they still fuck, I could bet on it, that’s how confident I am that I’m correct. They’re co-architects of Haeun’s world. She’s the first to arrive with balloons and homemade cookies on scan days, the one whose laugh draws Haeun from any shyness. Karina helps Dr. Na with Haeun a lot.”

Begrudgingly, you learn that they were lovers once, in that brief, incandescent season before parenthood reshaped his every horizon; the memory of their closeness still simmers behind Karina’s steady gaze. Now she arrives at the hospital not as a distant star but as a second mother to Haeun, smoothing stray curls with the gentlest touch and laughing through bedtime stories whispered in the playroom’s lamplight. When she bends to offer Haeun her lap, the little girl curls in as naturally as into her father’s arms, murmuring “Mama Rina” with the surety of a heart that instinctively knows where comfort lives. In every pivot of her poised stride and every warm look she casts at Dr. Na, you sense the unspoken vow: that this chosen family, wrought from loss and love, will hold its orbit against any darkness that dares encroach.

Her tone softens, eyes drifting back through the glass as if she can already see their silhouettes in the corridor. “They’re legends in their own right. Jeno, with championships and record-breaking buzzer-beaters that make arenas tremble; Karina, whose gowns have rewritten the language of fashion and whose makeup line is in every beauty editor’s kit; Ryujin and Shotaro, whose dance therapy programs have coaxed laughter and movement from children who’d forgotten how to feel joy; Donghyuck, whose voice carries stories of triumph on screens that millions tune in to each night. But none of that matters here. What binds them isn’t fame or fortune, it’s this hospital. This place saved Haeun when her own mother tried to end her life before she even drew a single breath, when she was left to die alone on the rooftop. Doctors patched her broken heart; nurses soothed her frightened sobs; researchers here keep rewriting the rules of what sick children can endure. Every gala Karina co-hosts, every scholarship Jeno underwrites, every dance-floor fund Shotaro and Ryujin open, all of it funnels back into this ward. They fund free surgeries for babies born blue-liped, they underwrite outreach clinics in forgotten towns, they sponsor scholarship nurses who stay to care for children no matter the cost. They do it all because of Haeun. Because she survived the darkness, they learned what true rescue means, and found a way to pay her back in light.”

Your heart twists in your chest as you watch Karina cradle Haeun at the edge of the room, tiny arms fluttering around Karina’s neck like fledgling wings seeking warmth. Karina’s hair tumbles over her shoulders in waves of midnight silk, each strand catching the light of the conference wing’s golden glow. Her posture is an unspoken manifesto of poise: spine straight as a ballet barre, shoulders soft but unyielding, gaze warm enough to melt the iciest boardroom. Haeun’s laughter resonates like a chime, and Karina responds with a low, musical hum, her fingers tracing idle patterns in Haeun’s curls. You step back, scrubs suddenly heavy on your skin, as though you’ve walked into a painting you were never meant to touch. The distance between you and this effortless grace stretches taut, and you wonder how you—ten years her junior, still mastering knotting sutures and bedside manner—could ever bridge the gap. You feel like a child intruding on a world you can’t touch: awkward in your youth, your intern’s scrubs swallowed by the hush of designer silks and tailored blazers. 

Your cheeks burn when you realize how small you feel here: stripped of your usual confidence, every inch of your skin prickles with self-consciousness. You recall the times you braided Haeun’s hair, the soft “thank you, my wuv” she pressed against your palm, and you ache to belong in that gentle space again. But here, in the orbit of Karina’s radiance, you are merely a shadow, an earnest trainee whose greatest accolade is a passing nod from Dr. Na. While Karina, in the privacy of their past, has lost herself on his cock a million times, a fiery intimacy you ache to claim as your own. You tighten your grip on the edge of your clipboard, fingernails biting into the paper, and force your gaze back to the room. Yet even as you try to anchor yourself, your eyes betray you, drifting back to Karina’s measured smile, the easy way she curls a lock of Haeun’s hair behind her ear, the quiet assurance that you can never duplicate.

It’s not merely Karina’s beauty that stings, it’s her history, her accomplishments writ large in the world Jaemin inhabits. You think of the single-family flats you shared with overwhelmed roommates, long shifts of charting before dawn, the perpetual undercurrent of imposter syndrome that thrums beneath your every success. Karina, by contrast, has carved an empire from thread and vision, her name sewn onto the seats of fashion capitals from Paris to Tokyo. She is the creative force behind runway shows that have shaped decades of style; the philanthropist whose gala soirées have raised millions for pediatric research; the mentor whose apprentices now stand on stage in their own right. And here she is, bending gentle and unguarded over Haeun—an innocent whose life Karina helped to celebrate, whose future she pledged to support long before you ever learned your first surgical knot.

You flush all the way to your fingertips as you recall Hayoung’s hushed confession about Karina and Dr. Na’s secret trysts—how Karina’s satin lips once pressed against his throat in the moonlight, how she gasped his name as his fingers tangled in her platinum-blonde waves. Your pulse hammers when you imagine those heated nights, Karina draped over him like silk, whispering his name between breathless moans. You bite your lip, thighs trembling, picturing yourself in her place—skin slick, lips parted, arching beneath his touch as he buries himself deep inside you. Every polished step in these hospital halls suddenly feels charged with forbidden promise: could those same strong hands guide your body, curl you into whispered ecstasy until you’re nothing but warm, quivering mush in his arms? The thought sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you press a hand to your chest, breathing unevenly, desperate for even a flicker of that raw, unfiltered passion Karina once claimed as her birthright.

Karina’s presence is almost mythic: hair that falls in glossy waves around a face sculpted by years of confidence, eyes that have both softened at a child’s smile and hardened at the cruelties of fashion backstage. She embodies refinement and resolve—each step a whisper of silk, each laugh a note of genuine warmth. Haeun clings to her as though born knowing Karina’s arms are safe harbors: tiny fingers threading through Karina’s familiarity, curls brushing Karina’s velvet collar. You watch that bond and ache—you’re not certain you could learn the art of such effortless love, not sure you could anchor Haeun’s heart as deeply, as naturally, as one who has guided her through every high-profile gala and quiet bedtime story alike. In that moment, you feel the full weight of your inexperience, the impossibility of matching a grace so honed, so intrinsic. The envy blossoms bitterly in your chest, and you wonder if you will ever find your own place in Haeun’s world beyond the shadow of these legends.

You turn your gaze inward, the harsh white of hospital walls receding as memory and desire entwine into a single, bitter bloom. You recall the early mornings when you and Haeun would share cereal in the NICU hallway, your voice the only anchor to her frightened world. You remember the fear that distilled your every thought when her tiny chest stuttered for breath, and the primal desire to be the guardian of her heart. Yet here, in the glow of polished floors and the gentle murmur of celebrities-turned-family, you feel neither hero nor protector. only an outsider whose worth is measured in clinical competence, not in the kind of love that sees without pretense. The ache in your ribs intensifies, a reminder that motherhood, in its many forms, is not won by credentials or passion alone but by the quiet alchemy of trust, time, and intimacy. You realize that Karina has woven herself into Haeun’s life with every shared story, every whispered promise, every dance lesson sponsored and every stolen cuddle. And you, still learning the rhythms of both scalpels and lullabies, are left yearning for a place in the soft tapestry they have created. You close your eyes for a moment, drawing a shaky breath, and resolve to carve out your own kind of sanctuary, a space in Haeun’s world defined by your devotion, your sleepless nights, your relentless hope that even the most fragile hearts can find new wings.

taglist — @yukisroom97 @fancypeacepersona @jaeminnanaaa17 @shiningnono @junrenjun @honeybeehorizon @neotannies @noorabora @oppabochim @chenlesfeetpic @kynessa @awktwurtle @euphormiia @hi00000234527 @yvvnii @sunwoosberrie @ppeachyttae @dee-zennie @ballsackzz101 @neonaby @kukkurookkoo @antifrggile @dedandelion @fymine @zoesruby @yoonohswife @jessga @markerloi @ryuhannaworld @yasminetrappy @sunghoonsgfreal @jaemjeno @lovetaroandtaemin @yunhoswrldddd @dowoonwoodealer @enhalovie @jenzyoit @sunseteternal @dewyspace @markiesfatbooty @raysofpolaris @sunseteternal @oppabochim @markerloi @xiuriii

[bangtanhoneys]

12 weeks - seokjin & grace

Summary: The secret of a century is finally confirmed on an October morning.

Words: 1.6K

Note: I know nothing of what goes on at a baby ultrasound, so this is based on a bit of guesswork and some Googling.

It had been hard—nearly impossible—keeping the secret of the century. Harder still when your partner was practically vibrating with excitement, ready to blurt it out to anyone who so much as glanced in his direction.

Grace had lost count of how many times she’d had to nudge Seokjin under the table or shoot him the look in group settings: eyebrows raised, jaw tight, that subtle but unmistakable “shut up before you ruin everything” expression.

And every single time, Seokjin would flash her that soft, goofy smile. The one that screamed: I have a secret and I don’t want to keep it anymore.

But they’d made a promise—to each other and to the tiny life growing inside her. As her doctor had gently advised during that first early scan, they were waiting until the twelve-week appointment to share the news. That first confirmation, when she saw the tiny bean on the screen, was enough to make her believe it was real. But this scan? This one would show a baby. A heartbeat. Arms. Legs. Movement. Life. 

It wasn’t superstition. It was a precaution. After everything they had both been through, separately and together, this needed to be theirs for just a little longer. A private joy, unshaken by the noise of the world.

Seokjin had taken the waiting game in stride… or tried to. In truth, he’d been counting down the days like it was a second debut. He had a sticky note countdown on the fridge, complete with doodles and motivational quotes like “You’re doing amazing, fetus!” He had multiple reminders set on his phone, and at one point, he even updated BTS’s shared calendar with the phrase “BABY BLAST OFF” stamped across the date. Grace quickly deleted it before anyone could see.

The appointment had been booked weeks in advance at Asan Medical Center. Seokjin had done his research—poring over forums, texting quietly through his connections, asking for recommendations under fake names—wanting nothing but the best.

And, as always, Hana had pulled off a miracle. Grace’s entire schedule was cleared: no interviews, no rehearsals, no shoots, no press. A miracle in the middle of comeback prep. Somehow, she made it happen.

The rest of BTS had also been given the day off under the vague and harmless excuse of “rest and recovery.” Taehyung had booked a massage and facial. Jungkook made early tattoo plans. Yoongi disappeared into the studio without explanation. Namjoon packed up and vanished into the mountains before sunrise. No one suspected a thing.

The morning had started early, not because they had to, but because neither could sleep. Grace had wandered into the kitchen before the sun rose, barefoot, half-distractedly making toast she didn’t eat. Seokjin emerged minutes later, hoodie slung loosely over his frame, blinking at her like a sleepy puppy. He didn’t say a word, just wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face into the crook of her neck, letting out a hum that vibrated through her back.

Now, just after 10 a.m., they were in the car and on the way. The roads were quiet, and autumn had arrived in full. Yellow leaves drifted lazily across the asphalt as Seokjin took the longer route, just for the extra minutes.

He drove one-handed, the other resting on her thigh, thumb rubbing small, even circles into the denim of her jeans. The stereo played low, some instrumental piano piece Grace couldn’t name, but had been the only thing soothing enough to make it onto the drive-to-the-scan playlist.

Every now and then, Seokjin glanced sideways, checking on her, checking that she was still breathing, still okay, still real. And every time, she’d give him a soft smile, squeezed his hand and anchored him.

Neither spoke much, but they didn’t need to.

Today, they would hear their baby’s heartbeat. Today, they would see the shape of something they’d barely dared to hope for. Not just an idea or a dream whispered in the dark. But a real, living, growing someone. The first chapter of everything that was still to come.

As Seokjin pulled into the discreet underground car park, Grace’s grip on his hand tightened. The car slowed, eased into the space. Seokjin turned the engine off and exhaled, his thumb still drawing that same, slow circle into her jeans.

“Ready?” he asked gently, turning to her. His voice was soft, but thick with emotion.

She looked at him, eyes bright with something between awe and fear. And then she smiled, small and sure. “Let’s go meet our baby.”

They walked hand in hand through the private entrance of Asan Medical Center, where they were greeted by a soft-spoken receptionist who clearly knew exactly who they were and didn’t say a single word about it.

Discretion was part of the reason they’d chosen this place. No paparazzi lurking by elevators. No excited murmurs from staff. Just quiet professionalism and calm efficiency. People here had done this a thousand times for high-profile clients who needed their private moments to stay sacred.

The elevator ride was silent. Seokjin watched the light-up numbers climb like they were ticking down to a rocket launch. Grace leaned into his shoulder, their fingers tightly laced. She could feel the tension in his posture which was normally so composed, so silly and playful, now reduced to soft breathing and nervous stillness. 

When they reached the right place, a nurse guided them into a softly lit room that felt more like a spa than a medical office. Neutral tones, warm lighting, and a quiet hum of classical music playing low through ceiling speakers.

A few minutes later, the doctor entered. Grace recognised her immediately. It was the same woman who had done her early scan, calm and competent, with a reassuring smile that didn’t waver. She greeted them both with polite warmth, unfazed by who was sitting in front of her. It wasn’t about who they were in the outside world. In here, they were just another hopeful couple.

They spoke briefly about Grace’s symptoms since the last visit. “All-day sickness?” the doctor repeated sympathetically, glancing at her notes. “That’s common, especially with first pregnancies.”

Grace nodded with a sigh. “Morning sickness was a lie. This is a 24/7 party.”

“And the fatigue? Any bleeding?”

“A few nosebleeds,” Grace replied, “but nothing heavy.”

The doctor nodded, scribbling notes. “Your blood work looks good. Hormone levels are right on track. Let’s take a look and see how baby’s doing.”

Grace shifted on the exam bed, tugging up her shirt as a nurse dimmed the lights and prepared the equipment while the doctor tapped away at the keyboard for the computer and her notes. Seokjin pulled his chair closer to her side, instinctively reaching for her hand. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles while the cold gel was applied to her belly, making her flinch with a quiet hiss.

“Try not to hold your breath,” the doctor said gently. “Breathe normally.”

The probe touched her skin, and the screen flickered to life.

For a moment, nothing.

Just grey static and grainy outlines that didn’t mean anything. Grace’s heart began to pound. Then, just as Grace was starting to panic and just as the doctor frowned as she moved the wand, there it was. 

A tiny body. A flickering light. A beating heart.

The image cleared, sharpened. Little arms. A strong curve of the spine. The faintest movement, like a stretch.

“There they are,” the doctor said with a soft smile. “And everything looks perfect.”

Grace’s breath caught in her throat.

Seokjin didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at the screen, eyes wide and lips parted. Then a sound escaped him, half laugh, half sob, as his free hand reached for his face. “That’s… that’s really there,” he whispered.

On the screen, the flickering heartbeat pulsed steadily, filling the room with its quick, rhythmic thrum. Their tiny universe, living and growing inside her.

The doctor gave them a moment, quietly noting down measurements and printing a few images and let Seokjin record the sound of the heartbeat on his phone. Grace’s eyes stayed glued to the screen, memorising every angle, every detail. The shape of the head. The flutter of movement. The steady beat filled the room like a song only the three of them could hear.

“They’re measuring exactly where they should be,” the doctor said warmly. “Twelve weeks and two days. Strong heartbeat, beautiful positioning. Everything looks wonderful.”

Grace let out a breath she hadn’t even realised she was holding. Relief flooded her body, followed quickly by awe. It was real now. Not a faint line on a test, not a hopeful what-if, not a mistake. A baby. Their baby, healthy and growing and there.

She looked over at Seokjin. He was still staring at the monitor, lips parted in amazement, eyes glassy but joyful. Then, slowly, he turned to her, his expression crumpling with overwhelming love.

The doctor gently wiped away the gel, offering a towel and started turning off the equipment to give them a few moments alone. She printed out a few extra ultrasound photos before she shut off the computer and handed them over with a knowing smile. “Take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Once the door clicked shut, Grace held the photos in trembling hands. Seokjin moved beside her, his arms wrapping carefully around her shoulders as they looked at the images together.

“She’s going to be just like you,” Seokjin said, completely serious.

Grace snorted softly. “You’re already calling her a girl?”

“She already has your spine,” he teased. “Strong, stubborn, probably plotting a dramatic entrance.”

Grace leaned into his shoulder, her cheek pressing against his hoodie. “Then she’s definitely ours.”

And for a moment, everything else - the world, the noise, the idol career, the comeback, the pressure - fell away. It was just the two of them sitting in a quiet clinic room in Seoul, clutching black-and-white snapshots of the future.

A future that they hadn’t planned but had always talked about. A future that they didn’t think would be happening so soon. A future that obviously wasn’t going to wait any longer. 

[myeagleexpert]

Throw wood on the fire

Pairing: Tim Drake/Red Robin x YN AFAB Warning: yandere fic, toxic relationaship, he's possessive, you're stubborn, obsessive, emotional manipulation, nswf (pt 2) Summary: You  and Tim have always been soulmates, but it's so suffocating that you've reached your limit. It's time to break up with Tim. Note: Reader is described and represented as YN or as "You" because, grammarly, I'm trying to adapt the text so that it is more harmonious! Eng is not my mother language, so often the way I write does not relate to the translator and I have to translate most of my works manually. Therefore, thank you for understanding!

After a great night spent with your friends, having fun and bringing lightness to life, without even worrying about the time. But as the night is young, you have an annoying alarm telling you that it's time to go back to bed: Tim. You enter yours a luxurious apartment in the city center. Your shoulders immediately tensed when you heard his voice demanding answers.

"YN where were you??" He immediately grabs your arm and demands to know where you've been and why you were so late getting back

"Relax Tim, I just went out with my friends" you say taking off your red high heels, sighing heavily as you have this same conversation…for the fifth time.

Tim's expression remains stern as he crosses his arms across his chest. "I don't care if you were out with your friends," he retorts.

 "I told you to be back by 10 PM. It's midnight." mentally you ignore him as you take off your fancy suit and place your bag on a couch in the living room.

Tim follows after you, his annoyance growing with every step. "That's not an excuse," he snaps, his voice sharp. "You knew what time you were supposed to be home, and you didn't even try to keep track of the time."

He watches as you start walking to your room, and he grabs your hand to stop you. "We're not done talking about this." he says firmly. "You need to understand how worried I was about you being out so late."

"We just talked about it. I came back late by accident, it already happened there's no way back. I said I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Happy now?" Irritated, you release your hand from his grip and return to your route.

Tim's jaw clenches tightly as he listens to your response. He clearly isn’t satisfied with your dismissive attitude.

"No, I'm not happy," he replies with a mix of irritation and frustration in his voice. "You don't seem to understand how big of a deal this is for me. You're supposed to be mine, and I need to know where you are, what you're doing, who you're with. It's for your own safety."

"When did such a healthy relationship become so suffocating? Where is the Tim I knew? Why is it getting more and more tiring to continue this?" YN thinks, searching the timeline for where and when the red flags started to appear… and when she started ignoring them.

"I'm your girlfriend, I'm not an object to possess Tim." I look at him seriously "We've talked about this before, I'm going to sleep now. You can't control me 24 hours." Tim's expression hardens even more as you challenge him. He's not used to being contradicted or questioned, especially when it comes to you.

Your therapist said that in moments like this it was ideal to remain calm and that counting to 10 would help to calm down and not explode at others.

1....2....3.......

"You're my girlfriend, and that means you're mine," he insists firmly. "I'm not trying to control you, I'm trying to protect you. Can't you see that?"

He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "I care about you, more than anything else. I can't stand the thought of something happening to you. It drives me crazy when I can't keep an eye on you."

4......

You increase the distance and turn your back to Tim, ignoring his words while you change your clothes and put on satin pajamas. He looks at you irritated as you lie down on the big bed, covering me with the soft linen blankets. Tim’s eyes follow you as you changed into your pjamas and climbed into bed, his irritation growing with every movement you make. He stands there, his fingers clenched tightly into fists as he watches you get comfortable in bed.

“You’re seriously just going to go to sleep now?” He asks, his voice tight with frustration. “We’re not done talking about this.”

"I would love to talk about this with you, but as you can see, I'm already asleep. And good night dear, be careful the bogeyman doesn't get you" you say sarcastically as you cover your head with the sheets, mentally praying that Tim will give up any upset tonight, your patience has been...very little.Tim's jaw clenches even tighter as he listens to your sarcastic retort. He's clearly not amused by your dismissive attitude and attempts to end the discussion.

5....

He takes another step towards the bed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You're seriously being a brat right now? I'm trying to talk to you like an adult, but you're just acting like a child, YN."

He stops at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a mixture of irritation and frustration in his eyes. "You can't just shut me out and expect this conversation to go away," he continues, his voice firm. "We need to talk about what happened tonight. You can't just pretend it didn't happen!"

"Tim." you look at him seriously "I don't want to talk about it now, I'm tired and sleepy. We'll talk about it tomorrow."Tim's expression softens slightly as he meets your gaze, but his stubbornness remains. He sighs heavily before replying.

"I don't want to wait until tomorrow," he says, his voice still firm but slightly calmer. "I need to know what happened tonight. Where were you? Who were you with? What were you doing?"

6.....

"If you keep insisting, I'm going to go out in my pajamas and sleep at a friend's house." You threaten him as you run your hand through your hair, for a moment, Tim's gaze turns dark, he knows you have the audacity to do this.

"You're really going to leave in the middle of the night and go sleep at one of your friends' houses? Over this?" he asks, his voice filled with a mix of irritation and disbelief.

7.....

"Goodnight darling." You get up irritated and give him a kiss as you get out of bed. Still in your pajamas, you take your car keys and I go out to the garage where my beloved car awaits me. Tim follows hot on your heels, his expression a mix of alarm and determination.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he calls out, his voice tinged with worry.

He can't believe you're actually leaving in the middle of the night. He catches up to you just as you're about to get in your car.

Tim grabs your arm, trying to stop you from getting into the car. "You can't just leave like this," he says urgently. "We need to talk about what happened tonight. I need to know that you're safe."

You take his hand off your arm and say dryly "I'm fine and safe as you can see, see you tomorrow. I'm not going to talk to you irritated!" YN say, getting into the car and turning on the ignition, pressing the control to open the gate.

8.....

Tim's expression turns to one of frustration and helplessness as he watches you get into the car. He knows he can't stop you from leaving, but it kills him to see you so upset and willing to walk out in the middle of the night.

"Damnit, don't do this," he says, his voice pleading. "Please don't drive off in anger. Just come back inside and we can talk about this like adults."

He takes a step closer to the car, leaning down to look at you through the open window. His expression is a mix of concern and desperation.

9....

"Please, just don't drive off like this. It's the middle of the night, and I'm worried about you being out alone. Just come back inside, and we can talk this out."

"I don't want to talk right now." you start the car and start walking when he stops irritated, and almost crying, in front of the car "Excuse me, I need to pass if you don't mind" you say disguising the anger and frustration, honking the horn calmly. Tim takes a step back, his arms falling to his sides in frustration. He watches with a mix of anger and helplessness as you start to drive away.

But just as you're about to pass him, he steps in front of the car, blocking your path.

“TIM!”

Fuck counting to 10...

"What the hell are you doing?" he blurts out, his voice tight with irritation and worry. "You're really going to drive off like this in the middle of the night? It's not safe!"

He stands in front of the car, his eyes locked on yours through the windshield. "God Damnit, just stop and talk to me," he pleads, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and desperation. "We can't just leave things this way. You can't just walk out and leave in the middle of the night without talking to me about what happened tonight."

"I'll text one of your robots to read." you respond sarcastically while rolling your eyes, but after taking a deep breath, you try to negotiate with him "If you stay quiet, I'll come back and sleep on the couch. If you keep insisting like this, I'll leave now and only come back in the morning" I turn on the car and make the engine make a loud noise.Tim listens to your response, his expression growing more frustrated by the second. He clenches his fists at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to argue further.

Tim considers your offer for a moment, his mind racing with frustration and worry. But he knows he doesn't really have a choice right now.

"Fine," he finally says, his voice tight. "But we are going to talk about this in the morning. And you better not try to sneak out again tonight."

He takes a step back, allowing you to drive off, but his expression is still filled with irritation and worry. He watches as you drive off, his mind racing with frustration and insecurity.

"Damnit," he mutters to himself as he watches you drive away. "Why does she always have to be so damn stubborn."

The powefull Red Robin, stands there for a moment, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. he's torn between the need to go after you and the knowledge that you won't listen right now.

His mind races with conflicting thoughts. he's worried about your safety, but he's also irritated by your stubbornness. He knows he should just let you go for the night, but the thought of not knowing where you are or what you're doing is driving him insane.Tim takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. he knows he can't just follow your car and chase you down. That would only make things worse. But the thought of you driving off in anger and irritation, alone in the middle of the night, is eating him alive.

At that point, it was like throwing wood on the fire, fueling anger and rebellion.

As time passed, YN saw the love she felt for Tim gradually turning into a prison. Like a perfect fairy tale it lost its color, slowly turning into a horror film where she would be the only victim.

“Baby, we need to talk…”

The constant need to be together and Tim's obsession with protecting her created a web of possession that left her increasingly suffocated. Constant calls, constant paranoia, constant accusations… it was all getting too much. As heiress to her father's company, YN always tried to be at the height of the company and it was very difficult with a boyfriend demanding to know who she was with all the time, why she cared about all that and why… that man was shaking her hand .

Each day was a desperate effort to maintain some of his autonomy, while Tim became more controlling and domineering. The feeling of being constantly surrounded by a hyperprotective guard was oppressive, depriving her of space to breathe.

“How will I know she’s really your friend? !What if she wants to poison your head about our relationship?!”

YN tried to rebel against the prison that had become her relationship, her stubbornness and her independence at stake. She began to become more indifferent towards Tim's possessive efforts, trying to create the distance needed to have more control over her life. Increasing and rebuilding the walls that were previously knocked down with sarcastic, poisonous comments, trying to get back to having a busy and festive life like before. However, each attempt to regain her autonomy was met with resistance from Tim, who desperately clung to the illusion of being her protector. With every step she took toward freedom, he strived to hold her back, increasing his possessiveness and desperation to keep her by her side.

“Why do you want to go to this event alone? We're a couple, aren't we? What are you going to do there that you won’t need me?”

Little by little, the web was made by Tim's efforts and undone by YN's stubbornness, it was a tiring, exhausting process and honestly YN was already at the limit of it all.

Like a butterfly that turns and convulses its way out of its web, so YN was determined to fly free again.

The plan to sleep over at a friend Daisy's house failed, leaving only one friend on the other side of the city. YN breathes a sigh of relief as she turn off location, cell phone, and any other service that has anything that connects to it. While at his house, you took advantage of the time away from Tim and focused on your training, finally a full workout without Tim hacking the gym. You posted some photos and videos on social media, recording your workout and the breakfast you were having with your friend you met the other day.

Meanwhile, Tim was anxious and worried, unable to focus on anything other than his absence. He became even angrier when he saw your posts on social media. He knew that you were making these posts on purpose to irritate him, which only increased his anger and frustration. he tried to control himself, but he couldn't help the feeling of helplessness and anxiety that overwhelmed him. He wanted to know where you were, what you were doing, who was with you.

It was noon when you called Tim, giving him the air of your presence "Tim, are you home now? Do you want me to bring you lunch?" YN say hoping he would forget the conversation as she gets into the car, reapplying lipstick and putting on sunglasses.

Tim answers the phone, trying to control the frustration and anxiety in his voice. He was in the apartment, busy with work, when you called.

"Yes, I'm home," he replies, trying to remain calm. "But there's no need to bring lunch, I'll order something." He tries to keep the conversation casual, but he can't forget the argument from the night before.

"I'll order… Your favorite" You say trying to lighten the mood, the calm before the storm. Tim hesitates for a moment, his frustration with the situation still present. But his favorite's offer makes him relent.

"Okay, fine," he says, trying not to show how much he was looking forward to your return. "But you'll be here soon, right?"

"If I say I'm going to help the chef, will you let me take my time?" I try to bargain with him. Tim is holding back.

Tim takes a deep breath, his possessive and controlling side taking over for a moment. He really wanted you home where he could keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe. But he also knew that you wouldn’t give in that easily. He tries to remain calm as he responds.

But he also knew that you wouldn’t give in that easily. He tries to remain calm as he responds.

"For how long?" he asks, irritated. "And why do you need to help the chef?"

"I'm going to make the special recipe with him" you say without even realizing it, a little evil in the intonation, but soon swallow it to be a decent person, , as if she hadn't thrown wood on the fire.

Tim raises his eyebrows when you mention "the special recipe." What the hell were you doing? The “Special Recipe” was a dish that only the two of you made. Period. It was a couple thing and not a delivery from a fancy restaurant. It wasn't a different seasoning or something exotic, the fun of the “special recipe” was making the YN and Tim recipe, a pasta where the two make romantically in the kitchen, an illusion of domesticity and togetherness.

"The special recipe?" he repeats, irritation and suspicion evident in his voice. "Why the special recipe? You didn't mention anything like that before."

"Isn't it your favorite, love? I'll be there in 20 minutes"

"Okay, cool," he replies, his voice tense. "I'll be waiting for you."

Tim notices the sarcastic tone in her voice, but he tries to ignore it, his irritation still present. He knows you're joking, but he can't help but wonder what's really going on. He was sitting in his office, trying to stay calm and work while he waited for you. But his irritation and frustration were quickly growing as the minutes passed.

YN arrived at the shared apartment within 40 minutes, ready to talk. "Good morning Einstein" she takes off her heels and goes to the living room, placing the delivery in the kitchen watching the fuming man leave the office

When you finally arrived, he quickly got up from the office and left to meet you in the living room. His look was serious and full of anger.

"Six hours" was the first word he spoke, without even greeting you. His tone was cold and controlled, but the irritation was evident in his expression and in every word he said.

"Six fucking hours," he repeated, "No news, no messages, nothing. I was on the verge of madness, not knowing if you were okay or not." He approached you, his eyes locked on yours. He wanted to hug you, pull you into his arms, but the feeling of irritation and frustration prevailed at the moment.

"Explain to me," he demanded, his voice firm. "Where were you? What were you doing? Who was with you?"

"I went to celebrate our company's profit with my friends from work" friends that he hated "Then I went to that restaurant that opened now, the Japanese one" That Tim hated "As it was early at night, I was invited to a party at the other city ​​with the girls." girls who hated Tim "As we had a disagreement yesterday, so I slept at Galileo's house" the guy who hit on you

With every word you spoke, Tim's expression changed. He felt his veins pulsing with anger and frustration as you mentioned your friends and the guy who hit on you while you explained in an indifferent way, as if you were talking about the weather and not turning on warning sirens in Tim's head.

He tried to contain his possessive and controlling side, but it was difficult to control his feelings. The thought of you spending the night at another man's house drove him completely insane.

"Did you sleep at another man's house?" he repeated, his anger evident in his voice. "Daisy wasn't home, my closest option was Galileo." "He's gay baby, relax" YN says

Tim snorts when you say Galileo is gay. Even though he knew he wasn't interested in women, the idea of ​​you spending the night at another man's house was irritating to him, especially because Tim saw him hitting on you and was paranoid since from the first time the two of you were introduced. He tries to calm down, but the anger still clings to him like a thorn.

"That doesn't change the fact that you slept at another man's house," he snaps. "Because my man wouldn't let me sleep in peace" I retort with the same intensity

Tim takes a deep breath, his hands clench into fists in anger. He knows you're right, but he doesn't want to admit it. He feels the guilt slowly creeping into him, but the anger still prevails.

"You ran away from me," he responds, his voice firm. "You just left our house without a word and i didn't hear from you for hours." The muscles in Tim's neck tighten as he speaks, anger and frustration mixing in his words.

"I was worried," he continues, "I was desperate not knowing where you were or if you were safe. I tried calling and texting you, but you left me hanging." His voice becomes lower and more intense as he continues to speak.

"And now, I find out that you spent the night at another man's house, the guy I detest, for God's sake."

He moves closer, invading your personal space, chest rising and falling with each hectic breath.

"How do you think I feel, huh?" he asks, his voice tense. "What do you think I was like, not hearing from you, not knowing where you were, what you were doing, who you were with?" He places his hands on both sides of her face, forcing Yn to look directly into his blue eyes. Mentally trying to connect his stormy eyes with your lovely ones. How cute, you might think….

A boyfriend desperate for his girlfriend's well-being, and everything for her protection, hmm?

Apart from the fact that they've had this conversation before.

How a prey follows the natural instincts that the predator will attack, turning on the fight or flight button…..

So YN remains firm and upright, she can notice the gentle changes in Tim's gaze, his worried speech, his dominant touch trying to make her “stay in her place”, but there is not a hint of guilt in her eyes.

YN had seen this film many, many times, the same script with the same characters. It's time to leave the cinema and live real life.

"Sorry, it won't happen again." you press your hand against his for a few seconds and then remove it from your face, looking at him seriously, your eyes as steady as a mountain weathering the storm. Tim's smile widened, but it closed realizing something was going to happen. Tim looks at you, his face showing a brief expression of relief and happiness as you rest your hand against his. But that feeling quickly fades when she realizes something isn't right.

He tries to stay calm, waiting for you to say something.

"What it was?" he asks, the anger and irritation still evident in her voice. "I know that expression. What are you going to do?"

The silence lasts for a few seconds as you remain quiet, your gaze serious and determined. Tim feels the atmosphere getting tense, he knows something is happening but he doesn't know what, and he hates every second of not knowing what goes on in Yn's head.

He crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for you to speak. His patience is starting to run out.

"Come on," he scolds, his voice brusque. "Speak quickly."

"I think we better break up." In the same way I speak abruptly, and I see his world turning upside down. Tim's expression changes immediately, as if he's been punched in the stomach. He stays frozen in place, his mind trying to process what you just said.

What? No… it can't be….. No…..it's not real. She must just be mad….

He babbles for a few seconds, unable to form words.

"I-I didn't hear you right," he finally says, his voice shaking slightly. "Repeat please."

"I think its better if we better break up, Tim. It's not working out, sorry." The words fall like a hammer on Tim's heart. He remains still, his mind trying desperately to find the words to argue, to change your mind.

He opens and closes his mouth several times, his hands shaking slightly. Finally, he manages to speak, his voice fragile and shaky.

"But…but why?" he asks, his words coming out almost like a whisper. ' "You know why."

Tim remains silent, his gaze fixed on his. He knows exactly what you're saying, but he still doesn't want to accept it. Millions of conversations about the relationship, the opinion of friends and family, the indirect ones, the distance… he knows he's being too much, that he's trying to imprison you, that he's pushing you away with all his obsession and paraoic… but he He can't stop, you're his drug. Slowly killing and addicting him until he can no longer live without you.

He runs a shaky hand through his black hair, trying to control himself but failing miserably.

"I…" he tries to say, but his voice trails off. He takes a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to speak. "I can change."

He won't change. Yn thinks, already knowing where this story would end.

"You don't need to change, Tim. I'm the problem here." I put my hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure someone out there will appreciate and value all your concern and your temper. But we've been hurting each other a lot lately."

Tim holds your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. He knows you're right, that things weren't working between you. But he can't accept it.

"I-i don't want it to end," he murmurs, his voice lowering. "I love you. I want to make it work."

“Listen Tim… I-” your sentence is cut off when Tim hugs you tightly, his head resting on your shoulder as he starts to cry. He tries to control himself, but emotion takes over him.

He squeezes you tighter, like he's desperately trying to keep you from leaving. Trying to bring you close, inhaling your scent, feeling your heat, trying to mold your body to his.

"Piplease," he whispers, voice shaking from crying. "Please don't leave. Please stay with me."

Tim continues to hold you, his body shaking with the emotions he's trying to keep under control. He doesn’t want to let you go, desperate to keep you by his side.

Anything other than us breaking up…

I don't accept it… I don't want it!

How will I exist without you by my side?

Why don't you want to try again?

He lifts his head, looking at you with red, teary eyes.

"I'll change," he promises, his voice husky. "I promise I'll change. Just don't leave. Please don't leave me."

He holds your face and looks at you, with hearts in his eyes, knowing that you won't give in anytime soon. He uses emotional blackmail to make Yn stay, after all, she always liked beautiful words, covered in honey.

Don't you love him anymore? Why do you want to hurt him so much?

Tim desperately tries to find a way to change your mind. He knows words aren't working, so he takes desperate action...

He holds your face tightly, looking directly and deeply into your eyes.

"If you leave…," he murmurs, voice shaking. "I won't be able to live. I'll go crazy without you. Please don't leave me. I won't survive."

"You're Red Robin, you've survived worse things." YN says trying to free herself from him which makes him increase the emotional blackmail, holding you against him, she tries to cut off his line of reasoning, the blackmail, the depraved words but it seems like it only makes everything increase more…. Tim remains holding you, his grip becoming firmer as YN tries to break free. He can see that you are not giving in easily and desperately grasps at any means possible to make you stay.

He presses his face against your neck, his voice shaky as he murmurs.

"It's not just a matter of physical survival," he says, voice muffled by the contact of his face against her skin. "I won't be able to live without you. You are my reason for living."

"I'm going to die without you…..I'll kill myself if I don't have you by my side…" He threatens, increasingly serious and desperate, for a moment, in the name of all the love in your relationship, you fear for his life.

Tim continues to murmur against your delicate neck, his embrace becoming almost painful. He seems desperate to keep you by his side, whatever the cost. He puts one hand on your back, the other wrapping around your waist. He pulls you against him, as if he's afraid he'll let you escape.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice rough with emotions. "I love you so much. Please don't leave. Please stay with me." Tim continues to beg the same words, his embrace becoming more and more desperate as he tries to stop you from leaving.

He looks completely vulnerable, as if his life depended on it. His voice is low and full of emotion as he repeats as a pray:

"I love you. I love you. I'll get better, I promise. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

When he hears your silence, his voice rises as if to prove he is telling the truth, almost shouting in your ear as he shakes and sobs in fear. Tim raises his voice as he desperately tries to convince you to stay, his words increasing in intensity as he sobs and shakes in fear.

He clings to you as if you were his anchor, his body shaking with emotion.

"I'll do anything for our relationship," he repeats, his voice almost desperate. "I'll get better for you. I'll change. I'll do whatever it takes. Just… please… don't leave me."

Tim's sobs grow stronger as he tries to hold back the tears. He's clearly desperate, his hug growing tighter and tighter as he desperately tries to keep you by his side.

With pity, YN runs an involuntary hand through Tim's hair, making him hope. "Are you really going to change?" I know he won't change, but maybe I can push the breakup further, in a month or two when he gets used to the idea.

Yn makes a mental note of the idea, without knowing that Tim himself already had plans for the two of them stay toguether forever.

Tim seems to perk up slightly when he feels your hand running through his hair, feeling you give in a little. He lifts his head, looking at you with a hopeful look.

He nods, his eyes still red from tears, but a little calmer.

"I'll change," he promises, voice firmer. "I'll be better for you. Just…give me another chance. Please."

"Okay…. the last one" with that he kisses you and cries more, relieved that you changed your mind. Tim takes the opportunity to kiss you, his tongue penetrating your mouth in a desperate and needy way. He cries as he kisses you, the relief evident in his gesture.

You still haven't said you love him too….. You do not love me anymore?

However, he is not satisfied with just the kiss, the insecurities and the countless scenarios running wild in his mind. He uses everything he can, pressing your body against his as he murmurs low, desperate words.

Will you still leave me? No, please no! You still love me?

"I won't survive without you!" he whispers, arms squeezing you against him. "You are everything to me. Just give me one more chance, please."

Tim repeats the same words, his hands roaming her body as he presses YN against him. He's desperate to keep you close, his embrace becoming almost possessive. He brings his mouth to her neck, kissing and biting the skin gently.

"I'm a dead man without you," he whispers, voice hoarse with emotion. "I won't survive without you. Just give me one more chance, please. Just one more, Yn. I love you so much..."

"…..I love you, Tim. Let's get better okay?" I confirm it when I hug him back

Tim takes a moment to process the words, his hands shaking with relief and hope. He hugs you tighter, his facial expression softening slightly. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tries to contain the tangle of emotions inside him.

"I'll make you happy," he promises, voice hoarse. "I'm going to be the best man I can be. Just… have a little more patience with me."

Tim remains hugging you for a few minutes, trying to calm down as his mind seems to spin with all the emotions. He takes a deep breath, trying to control his heart that feels like it's about to come out of his chest and YN is the only thing keeping him sane, stable, preventing him from becoming another Gotham madman.

He lifts his head again, looking at you with an almost vulnerable look.

"I'll get better," he whispers, his voice firm but soft. "I'm going to do everything differently. Just… don't leave me. Please." He continued to hold your face in his shaking hands, trying to hold you against him. Trying to breathe your air. Trying to get into your heart.

YN kisses him on the mouth, catching him off guard "I know you're going to do it differently, my love. It's going to be okay."

YN feels so exhausted by this argument, fed up and patiently reaching the end, realizing that he won't let them end that easily. So, YN changes her mind, mentally changing her strategy before Tim arrests her and chains her in the apartment.

you tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. "Let's watch a movie, hmm?" She suggests he calm down, cutting off any obsessive or paranoid trains of thought with a gentle smile.

Tim seems almost surprised by the unexpected gesture of the kiss, but he quickly recovers. His hands lightly squeeze her waist as he returns the gesture.

He nodded, his voice a little calmer.

"Yes, a film." He responds, his facial expression less tense. "That sounds good. Like we did before."

Tim moves away from you a little, but he doesn't let go of you completely. As he takes you to the couch, he remains close, with one hand on your waist, melting into Yn's warmth, the familiar scent bringing him a sense of comfort and security that only she can bring.

It looks like the film will repeat itself again.

The beautiful butterfly is caught in the spider's suffocating webs.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥