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mistypsych · 1 year

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ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 3

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. As promised slowly we are going into the chapters where Yoongi will be taking the main lead. If you want to join the tag list let me know!

After you had your hot bath and a glass of wine that turned into a whole bottle, tiredness of the whole event took over making you pass out on the couch. The fact was you also couldn’t bring yourself to go into the bedroom and fall asleep next to Hobi. You had yet to make sense of everything, but already your gut was telling you that all this new information was going to be a sticky deal. You dreaded that what Jungkook said is fully true and you didn’t know if you could pretend and ignore the facts.

You loved your fiancé with all your heart but could you be ok with him being dirty? Maybe if he had told you, maybe if he would not hide the fact he was entangled with the mafia and gave you a sensible explanation to all of it. You just didn’t know, because one thing you really hated was dishonesty. You could handle a lot of bad shit people have done or were doing as long as you knew about it. Once someone hid the truth from you it was a different story. You always believed the ugliest of truths was better than the prettiest of lies and this was a fucking hill you were willing to die on.

You felt a slight tingle on your cheek. A nice and warm feeling coming after it. Shutting your eyes harder and scrunching your nose you let out a quiet mumble as you felt an ache spread over your muscles. Last nights events surely strained your back. The decision to sleep on the couch did not help that matter as well.

Suddenly you felt a delicate kiss on your neck and then another one. You slowly opened your eyes to see Hobi sitting on the edge and leaning over you. Once your eyes met he gave you his sunshine smile and smoothed your hair back gently saying quietly “Hey. You slept on the couch?” his face had a bit of concern written over it. “Morning…” you croaked, your throat being dry from all the wine you consumed “Yea… I came back really late from that whole medical emergency. I drank some wine and passed out. I also didn’t wanna wake you…”

He hummed slightly soothing your cheek with his hand and grabbing a mug from the small table in-front of you. “Cold brew” he said smiling and passing the cup to you. Lifting yourself on your elbows you gladly drank the coffee, caffeine being exactly what you needed. While downing the brown liquid of life, your brain went back to yesterdays information about your fiancé that has been brutally thrown at you.

Seeing you’ve spaced out, he looked at you asking “You ok Y/N?” you shook your head throwing the intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind. You weren’t ready to confront him. Not yet. Matter of fact you didn’t believe that laying it out just like that would be a smart move. You had to plan it out safely. You could not draw suspicions and give him the option to lie himself out of trouble if what you heard about him would turn out to be true.

“Yes I’m fine.” you said forcing a smile. You had to keep your cool. He was a detective. You could not let him sense out that something was wrong. “I’m still sleepy a bit. Didn’t fully wake up yet” you cooed sitting yourself up completely.

Hoseok looked at you as if he was analyzing what you were saying but then he smiled nodding his head. “Not woken up yet hm?” he moved a bit closer to you, taking the mug out of your hands and setting it aside. You blinked a little raising an eyebrow “I’ve got just the thing to wake you up…” he said with a deep voice, a smirk painting over his lips as he leaned in to kiss your neck.

“Shit…” you thought to yourself as you didn’t think threw what to do if a situation like this occurred. Should you pressure that you are tired and not in the mood? Or should you play along? You actually didn’t know for a fact if Hobi was 100% a dirty cop and you wouldn’t be sure of it for some time. You were stressed out and needed to shut off your panicked mind. Giving in seemed like a really good idea. So once you felt his lips on you did just that.

A suppressed moan rolled out off your mouth as he licked down the skin of your throat. You weren’t aware how much you needed to be touched and just let yourself be careless at this very moment. “Told you I would get your blood flowing.” he groaned grabbing your chin and kissing you hungrily. You leaned your head back opening your mouth allowing his tongue to enter. You could feel him smiling, clearly happy about how you reacted to him.

Soon you were both out of your clothes and catching your racing breaths. Your mind still battling with the fact that Hobi might not be who you thought he was. But as his skillful fingers reached your wet core you decided to forget about it all for now. You pushed him down on the soft cushions and climbed onto him.

“So needy…” he chimed but you put your hands on his toned chest, letting your nails gently scratch over his perfect skin “Yea… so you better fuck me good Hoba!” you let the words fall out from your lips. There was no need to ask him again as you lowered yourself onto his already very hard member, deep moans coming out from both of you.

Grabbing your hips he stared thrusting into you, meeting your needy movements. Your breaths got shaky and uneven. As you bounced yourself to the sound of your bodies connecting you slightly wrapped your hand around his neck. You didn’t know what got into you. You never let yourself get too pushy with Hoseok. He was never really the rough type.

A bit shocked by your action he lifted himself into a sitting position, grabbing your back to make sure you didn’t come off of him. He continued to push deep into you as you moved your hand to his nape, not wanting to let yourself get anymore wild ideas. A knot in the bottom of your belly started to form. You pushed your hips back and forth hard into him seeking your release.

Loud groans and breaths slipping out from your mouthes. This time around all you wanted was to feel the pleasure to crash all over you. It was the only thing that mattered. You didn’t care to get intimate or sensual. You just wanted your mind blown so you could forget everything from that night, at least for a while.

So you kept the tempo, fucking your fiancé hard and fast until you both felt your bodies shaking from the short but strong release. You leaned your forehead on his chest catching your breath and not yet lifting off of him. You could feel him getting soft inside of you. He pushed your hair back from your sweaty face, saying with a slightly amused tone “well someone was in a rush today”.

Finally getting up you smiled with the corner of your lips “I guess I couldn’t wait since we didn’t get to have our fun for a while now…” you lied a bit. Truth be told you just wanted your needs fulfilled as soon as possible, so you didn’t have to be close to him for too long. You knew you were being a bit of a hypocrite, for not being honest with him. But he was the one who decided to hide things from you, so you felt you were allowed to bend the standards a bit.

Your gut was telling you that you couldn’t really trust him, that he was not being open and those facts taunted you. That is why you decided to start weaving a web of lies to shelter yourself. You could feel your morals screaming in your skull. This wasn’t like you. But you were angry, confused and fucking scared. Petrified that you were about to have your life blown up into flames and crumbled. You really had a lot to think threw. The realization that you probably will be facing some extremely hard decisions made anxiety slap you in the face.

* * * * * * * * *

The next days at work passed surprisingly well. You and Jungkook had an unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened. At least for now. Both of you didn’t direct any of the conversations towards that nights events. Luckily you were also pretty busy at the hospital.

You decided to take up extra shifts to the maximum and cover for some of your colleges. This meant you wouldn’t see Hoseok much those days. You knew you were procrastinating, but you needed to set your mind straight before making any meaningful moves and this seemed like the perfect way to do it.

Taking more on calls also meant you would get a couple days off after. You felt those would do you well and that you would then start your questioning of Hobi. Also you thought it would be good to simply go shopping and try to do the down-to earth little things to clear your racing mind and ready yourself for the tasks ahead.

You and Kook also coordinated work with the charities in such a way that you got to have the next week away from them. After all that unraveled, both of you had to fix up and manage some things in your private lives. You suspected Jungkook very much like yourself tried to ignore and push away everything that went down in that forsaken hangar. You could see he was trying hard to maintain your friendship and fix the trust he has thoughtlessly broken. But for the time being you felt other than hospital work, you needed a break from him.

* * * * * * * * *

As the final day of work before your days off passed, you could feel the anxiousness crawl up you skin. You were happy to take time for yourself but it also meant that you should start your head hunt for the truth about your fiancé. To say you were dreading that moment was an understatement. Your mind was already slowly making assessment and plans in case the accusations towards Hoseok were correct. All this shit daunted you.

Even tho you were a bit scared of the confrontation you gladly made your way back home after a long and hard day at work. Once you jumped out of the buss a couple of blocks away from your apartment, a strange feeling washed over you. Shaking it off, you turned around to check your surroundings. Nothing seemed suspicious so you shrugged, thinking it must be the anxiety toying with your tired brain.

As you were about to pass next to the alley of your apartments building, a tall figure walked out in front of you and blocked your way. Your heart dropped as you heard “Good evening doc…”. Namjoon was standing right there and looking down at you with his annoying smirk, that seemed constantly plastered to his face. If you wouldn’t know any better you would’ve surely slapped him, because of how he made your blood boil.

You could hear steps behind you as well. You turned your face to the side, so you could make out with the corner of your eye who it was. You recognized the shorter guy but the other one you did not recall seeing ever before. He was tall like Joon and had a look about him as if he has just stepped out of a GQ magazine.

“Oh wow not only is she talented but also pretty ey?” he spoke in a low, velvety voice. “Knock it off Tae, we are here to take her to the boss, not to romance her!” the low voiced brunette shook his head in disappointment and said “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t wanna find out what those capable hands could do. You know that surgeons have the steadiest of hands? Only imagine…”

You couldn’t take it anymore so you snapped “We also know how to use sharp scalpels!” the man laughed a little and winked at you clearly amused. You tried to walk off saying “And I am surely not going anywhere with your lot, so be so kind and fuck off! You have Jungook!”

You were only able to make a step before Namjoon skillfully grabbed your elbow and painfully yanked it, causing you to hiss. “I wasn’t asking doc, so now you’re gonna shut your pretty little mouth and get in the car!” he whispered angrily in your ear and stared at you warningly. You were sure if you tried something, maybe you would get away but the later consequences could be not worth it.

You ripped your arm from his grip and gave him a side eye while gritting your teeth. Now aware that you better cooperate, altho that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in you. The fuck was their whole deal? Why did they have to bother you instead of your college. Taehyung opened the back door of the black SUV and moved his hand towards the seats in a welcoming way. If the circumstances were different you’d almost feel like some movie star. But the fact was, you knew you were about to get into deep shit.

Sighing you jumped into the car. “Jimin get in the back with her just in case she tries something” Joon said to the shortest male, who kept quiet until now. He sat next to you, his eyes scanned over you as he said quietly “Soon it will all be behind you. Just don’t make it more difficult than it needs to be…” his voice had a specific ring to it. You just gave him an angry eye roll, barely controlling yourself from telling them to eat shit and die.

Closing your eyes you waited for the drive to be over. You did your best to ignore the men who seemed to not be able to shut their mouths for even a minute. You just wanted it to be done. Go do whatever they wanted you to do and leave. Slowly your mind was starting to wonder towards considering moving back to your home country, especially if Hoseok was to turn out a liar.

Suddenly you heard the doors open and then slam. You jerked up in your seat, the loud sound startling you. Then your door got opened and you saw Tae with a big grin as he said “Let’s go!”. You dragged yourself out of the vehicle and took your medical bag. They were lucky to grab you right after work. Who knows maybe they were smarter than they looked and specifically chose that moment knowing you should have such things on you then.

You followed them inside the hangar. You could feel your back slouching a bit as if to block you from all the panic that was starting to rise from within. Walking into one of the big rooms with creepy walls made of small windows you felt your heart start to beat faster and then you saw him. He was sitting on a wonky looking stool, staring at the screen of his phone.

Once he heard footsteps, he rose his head and looked your way. You weren’t able to see his eyes during your last encounter but now they were piercing threw you in all their glory. They were almost pitch black and dark like his hair. Their gaze seemed cold but also had something extremely calm in it. You could feel a shiver run threw your whole body. He surely had an intimidating vibe about him.

“I wanted to file a complaint…” he said slowly in a raspy voice, while grabbing a cigarette and lighting it up. You raised your eyebrows giving him a dumbfounded look and letting a “Huh?” fall out of your lips. He stared down at his abdomen and then you saw it, the blood trickling threw his white T, that he styled under a Hawaiian looking shirt.

You straightened yourself and cleared your throat, showing you were starting to get ticked off “Well you are sitting here smoking instead of resting and let me take a wild guess, you sure had quite the activities in between?” you seethed threw your teeth. He took a deep puff of his cigarette letting the smoke blow out his nostrils and had an amused little smile come over his lips. “Can’t recall my doctor left any ‘doctors orders’” he hummed.

You could see he was a piece of work so, you mumbled a “Well I am not your doctor. You’re lucky you got to live in the end. You weren’t looking so hot on that table.” he jerked an eyebrow putting out the cigarette and saying “well we are gonna change the you not being my doctor part” after you heard those words, you let a loud, hysterical laugh out and dropped your bag, while clapping your hands and saying “how about FUCKING NEVER IN HELL!”. You were not about to get intimidated by some thugs, your anger went way over the roof at this point.

He sighed getting up and that was when you realized, everybody else had left the room. He walked up to you slowly like you were some sort of prey. You refused to look like a helpless deer in headlights, so you rose your head higher and masked your face with fake confidence. He was taller than you. When he got close, you realized he was a really good looking man. His body was slim and toned. His raven black hair was thick and wavy.

“I don’t recall I was asking…” he said in a very calm tone, that made you even more annoyed, so you shot the next sentence without thinking “Well I don’t care and if you kill me for refusing, you will have police looking at your hands. I don’t think you want that kind of attention…” once you heard what you spat out, you cursed at yourself in your mind.

He let out a deep laugh and shook his head saying “Oh I am well aware who’s girl your are Y/N. You think just because Jung Hoseok is fucking you, it will change the fact how well acquainted I am with the police?” you started, nervously blinking and thinking of what to say next but he cut you off “If I chose to break your pretty little neck, the police would not give one fuck, it would be just another sad accident.” he took a lose strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear saying “That would be a waste wouldn’t it? And as much as I respect you trying not to get shaken down by a mobster, the reality is your shit outta luck and I don’t think I need to threaten your life to make you understand that?”

You could feel sweat starting to form on your forehead. The way he spoke of these things had you thinking he can make your life difficult. But you decided to try and lay out facts “Well I work in the hospital for your information and not like I would be at your every whim!” he laughed again and said very slowly “You really think that if I can handle the police like a bunch of dogs, a hospital would be a challenge? You really believe that director of yours isn’t mainly money driven?”

He looked at you with an amused gaze and shook his head lightly “But don’t worry your pretty head Y/N. I rarely get hurt and so do my men… and when we do it tends to be at nights and you wont convince me, you mainly work night shifts.” You gave him a glare, the fact he knew your name and other things about you, was bugging you beyond belief. He must have squeezed info out of your friend.

Seeing your irritation he sighed and walked behind you, just to lean over your shoulder and whisper in your ear “Don’t worry I won’t take up your precious time if it won’t be an emergency. Unless you will want me to…” You scoffed taking a step away from him and muttering “Yea for sure!” irony dripped from your voice but he did not seem bothered, if anything he was looking at you confidently as he said “Time will show won’t it? But for now…” he moved his head, showing down to his abdomen and saying calmly “I’d appreciate you handle the work you have already started”.

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @danielle143 @xjiminsthighsx @nochook @kootieful

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callmearcturus · 2 years

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more regency au shit but

beloved Dave, who used to wear trousers to go courting bc it felt obvious he would. he's MUCH better at the dress, though Dirk is concerned he still hasn't found a match. still, the skirt definitely suits him better than trying to chase any.

he's just so damn good at looking out a rainy window and sighing while Dirk tries to find where the fuck Rose has run off too this time.

but Karkat. Karkat and Terezi have been married for years, but haven't lived under the same roof in almost as many years. she's a naval investigator and is away at sea a lot.

Karkat is always in black and grey. grey shirts, black tails, black hat, black gloves. everyone assumes he's a widower. "The only thing I'm mourning is your fucking intelligence," he snaps, which is quite the ice breaker. he's bad at the parties. he hates talking about vapid bullshit, people yammering on about politics, no one ever talks about themselves, how are you supposed to get to know anyone?

not that Karkat is technically eligible, but he and Terezi agreed it's just easier to stay married. they both shook on it, that if either of them finds a better match, they'll sign the stupid divorce papers. but no one wants to be the town divorcee, ugh.

so Karkat goes to events because he does want to talk to people its just that everyone sucks. so he ducks out of the main room into a dark side room, sighing with relief to get the fuck out.

except there's one of the Lalondes (or is he a Strider? who knows) sitting by the window, his heels up on the chair across from him, his petticoat poofy under his dark maroon dress, a glass of fucking whiskey in his hand.

Karkat: Shit sorry I was. hoping this room was empty. Dave: Hey, same. I'm avoiding my responsibilities too. Karkat, looking pointedly at skirt: That so. Dave: Yeah. Wanna be boring wallflowers together? Karkat: …. yeah sure.

its a relief to have a co-conspirator. Dave doesn't talk about the fucking weather or politics, he complains about his family (affectionately, but also tiredly, with an air of exhaustion) and about art classes and about the latest duel Rose got Dirk in.

Karkat is so fucking relieved to talk about real shit, he immediately spills he's an author, lets Dave laugh at his pennames for his more Risque novellas, and tries to give advice on how Dave might navigate the turbulence of his sister's moods.

They always find each other at parties and share a bottle and play wallflower together.

It's definitely a problem. Karkat should not be doing this while he's technically Vantas-Pyrope, but Terezi's not due back on land for months, so...

#whomstve #regency au #davekat

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

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The One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warmings: 18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, running, a raging argument in an established relationship, name calling, taunting, drunken raging, Twitter. SMUT, explicit, rough sex, fingering, tit slapping, orgasm denial, spitting, oral sex (mostly female receiving). Also, I’m sleepy. 😴

A/N: Not proofread. Also, I know very little about Chris and Jenny, and have no real opinion about their relationship. I made up the scenario about what happened there for the purposes of the story. THANKS FOR 400 FOLLOWERS TONIGHT! 🥳🎉🎊🍾👏🏽🎈

This fic is based on the following ask:

Anonymous asked:

Imagine idea :

Chris is drunk after a fight with the reader. He was On Twitter and saw some pics with Jenny and when the reader comes in he screams at her and says that Jenny was the one and not the reader. The reader get sad because she was always kind of insecure about the age gap with Chris. The day after he didn’t know what he says and she don’t say anything because she got the feeling that he was right. But one thing both didn’t noticed that Chris was drunk calling Scott and he knows everything Chris says and drive to Chris to give him a good clamp ahahhaha Chris was drunk and Just mentioned her name because he saw a post with Jenny.

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

It had been the perfect day.

You slept in, then had a late brunch at home.

You saw a message from Chris’ former co-star, Heidi, light up his phone that he’d plugged in on the kitchen counter when you two were tidying up.

You wondered why he was texting the bitch even after you told him that she wanted him. And after he agreed to cut off contact out of respect for you.

Heated, you didn’t even look around before you picked it up, put in his code and read a string of friendly, if not borderline flirty, texts.

Chris walked in the kitchen, caught you, and yelled at you for being in his phone.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Exactly! What is going on, Chris. I thought we talked about this?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s a big fucking deal.”

You threw his phone on the marble countertop, which caused Chris to pick it up to see if it was cracked. Your temper was too much.

“We’re just friends! She knows we’re together, y/n!”

You rolled your eyes.

“And I know women, Chris. That doesn’t fucking matter to her. Sometimes you’re so oblivious. Or act like you are.” You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“I know you want to leave me for someone more glamorous and beautiful. Someone who will put up with your shit, everyone the media says you’re fucking. Go ahead and just do it!”

Chris’s temper was really rising now. You could tell as the red creeped up his chest to his neck.

“Stop fucking saying that!” Chris was screaming now. “Is that what you want? To end it? Because you don’t have to make me do it. If you want to leave, just leave.”

You said shit like that a lot. And it scared and angered him. He wanted to know if you were trying to make him break up with you so you would be free.

“Why are you being such a fucking…” Chris stopped himself. He knew better than to call you out of your name.

Your head almost spun around. You smiled evilly.

“Go ahead, say what you wanna say, Chris. Or are you scared?”

Chris exploded. “A fucking BITCH.” He was shaking because you went there.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not fucking anyone else!”

Chris lost it and punched the wall, making a hole in the drywall and definitely injuring his hand.

You just stood there with your mouth open and in silence. You went toward him to look at his hand, and he just put both of them up, backing away from you and going to the liquor cabinet.

He retreated to the deck with a bottle of Jameson’s. He wanted to dull the pain, in his hand, and in his heart. He hated when you hurt each other.

You understood that you both crossed the line, so you let him be. You went upstairs to change into your running clothes to get out and clear your head.

Chris settled on a deck lounger, started drinking from the bottle and got online, which is never a good thing, but he needed something to distract him. He started reading tweets about himself, and following a thread of Chris + Jenny stans.

The more he drank, the more he started reminiscing.

There were good times. He was happy. Mostly. He thought she was the one. Sometimes. But she broke his heart. He was just a rebound.

Her handsome arm candy.

Then he thought of you. His heart melted; you really loved him. He was sure of it. But loving him was hard. He realized that you felt the same way about him that he felt about Jenny. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Insecure.

And you had good reason to be. Everything you’d said about women coming after him was true. But what you didn’t realize is that since he’d met you other women didn’t matter to him.

You were the one, not Jenny.

Chris began to get melancholy. He’d fucked up. You were nothing but good to him and you just asked him to respect you and listen to your feelings. He’d ignored that.

Shit, why did he yell at you like that?

He went to erase Heidi’s contact and block her number. He was confident that you were never going to throw him away like Jenny did. She was the one who’d hurt him. Not you. Never you. He recognized that you wouldn’t ever hurt him on purpose.

His mind was racing with how to apologize when you came back. He was an idiot. The pain in his heart was replaced with regret and his hand had slowed to a dull throb.

But then 30 minutes turned to 3 hours, and by the time you got back, the bottle was empty and Chris’s eyes were red with rage and worry.

Maybe you were just like Jenny after all.

--------

You ran, and then went to get some coffee. You ran into Shelby at the cafe and distracted yourself with mindless chatter, then walked back. You were ready to apologize by the time you opened the door.

When he heard the door, Chris picked up his phone and met you in the living room. He was obviously shitfaced.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Chris’s voice boomed throughout the house and you jumped. Then you just stood there, shocked at his outburst.

“The hell are you talking to me like that?”

He was unsteady on his feet. He leaned toward you, and you could tell that someone was spinning the room for him.

“I don’t want it to be you!”

He had to let you know that he knew that you wouldn’t be the one to hurt him. Chris pointed his phone at you.

“You’re not the one. Jenny’s the only one. Not you! Not ever you!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. But then again you could. It was what you were afraid of. You were head over heels. And Chris could find someone on his level. Like Jenny.

“Well, Fuck You very much, Chris.”

You brushed your tears away and ran past him up the stairs to the bedroom, locking the door and crying your eyes out. You got out your suitcase.

----

Chris started up after you, calling your name, and then suddenly needed to duck in the downstairs bathroom to throw up.

He tried to make it up the stairs and had to sit down on the floor near the bottom. Then, he needed to lay down just for a minute.

The next thing Chris knew, it was morning, and he woke up to a pounding on the door and in his head. He rolled over on the floor, and something stabbed him in the side.

Groaning, he reached down and saw your keys to his house, his cars, and his life, all on the Tiffany heart keychain he’d given them to you. He was staring at them, confused, when Scott opened the door with his key.

“There he is. My brother. The fuck up.”

Chris groaned again, sat up on the bottom stair and held his head.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nevermind me. It’s not often I get to say that, only when you publish your dick pic to the internet or you RUN OFF THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO YOU!”

Chris winced when Scott yelled, his head a pounding mass of meat wrapped in fuzzy cotton.

He didn’t understand why he was being tortured and he didn’t understand why his hand hurt. He looked at it, all bruised up, and the keys inside it.

“Just tell me, Scott. Why are you here?”

Scott leaned up against the door.

“Did you know you drunk dialed me last night?”

Chris looked up at Scott, and his face was a sight as his brother told him what he’d said to you.

“Fuuuuuck me!” He put his head in his hands again.

“I don’t know if she ever will again,” Scott joked, but Chris didn’t laugh.

“I called her after you apparently passed out and wouldn't pick up your phone. She was ready to catch an early morning flight, but I convinced her to sleep in today and leave tomorrow.”

Chris moved his hands down from his eyes and stared out the patio doors, trying to think.

“I put her up in the Four Seasons, on your dime of course. Room 6145. Penthouse. Could be pretty romantic. If she were in that kind of mood.”

Chris looked up at Scott, smiled weakly, jumped up and hugged him, then made for the door. Scott jumped in front of him.

“Trust me, you’ll want to get some water and coffee in you, and shower and brush your teeth. You look and smell like shit.”

“Right.” Chris nodded, flexing his hand. He could still move it. He was glad it wasn’t broken. “Thanks, bro.”

“No problem.” Scott walked into the bathroom as Chris went to the kitchen, groaning when he saw the hole in the wall. He’d have to ask Scott to get it fixed before you saw it again.

If he could convince you to come back.

----

It was 11 am, and Scott had verified that you were still in the room. Chris just stood there, nervous and terrified that you were just going to be done with him.

Room service came and headed toward your door. Chris waved them down and when they saw his face, they stopped in their tracks, shocked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

----

You climbed out of the wonderful deep jetted tub, having soaked until the water got cold and your fingers were wrinkled. You pulled on the plush Four Seasons terry cloth robe that was provided with the suite.

You felt calmer than last night, and after some sleep and relaxation, you realized that you’d been a fool to think that Chris would want you forever like you thought.

It was for the best that you leave and start over, to focus on your consulting business and yourself for a while.

You opened the door with a smile on your face for the attendant, and you let them into the room, your back turned to the door while they brought the cart in. You turned back around and there was Chris.

You grew heated, and your heart began to race while the attendant scurried out. Chris’s face was a welcome sight, but you were still angry.

There you were, looking so beautiful, curls tied up in your favorite silk scarf, cocoa skin radiant in a white fluffy robe. You should have been comfortable, but your eyes were wide and scared.

He’d done this to you.

“Fuck, y/n… I…”

You interrupted him.

“You’ve got some mutha fuckin nerve. How dare you just run up in here, using that fucking face,” you flung your hand up, “using who you are to get into my room. How did you even know where…?”

Your mouth dropped open at the realization of what Scott had done. You turned on your heel to get your things. You didn’t care that you were naked under your robe. You didn’t care that you still loved Chris. You were out. This second.

Chris moved to block you from entering the bedroom of the suite. You tried to push past him, all 5’ 4” of you versus 6 feet of him.

“Move, Chris!”

You glared up at him, your body responding to him in ways you weren’t prepared to admit. You were betrayed by your pussy.

“I just want you to listen to me. Then you can leave, stay, do whatever you want. Just hear me out.”

You and him physically was always the shit. His arms across his chest did things to you But you kept mean mugging him, making him hard for you.

You stepped back and said, “Okay. You have 10 minutes. Then I’m out, Chris.”

You paced back to the couch in the living room of the suite, watching him warily.

Chris paced in front of you, making it inevitable that you follow his lean form back and forth across the carpet. You noticed that his hand was bandaged and that he kept flexing it.

You hoped it wasn’t broken. No matter what, you cared what happened to him. You would always love him. Even if it was the end of your relationship.

“First of all, I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me, and I was violent and that is never acceptable. Even though I didn’t touch you, it’s not ok, and I know it was intimidating. I take responsibility.”

He stopped and looked at you, you melted a little, but you didn’t give any outward sign. Being a business owner taught you a mean poker face.

But the shirt he was wearing made his true blue eyes pop and you could see a hint of his chain around his neck under the fitted henley.

You suppressed a shiver at the memory of the things you did to have that chain and medallion wave in your face, to have it clenched between your teeth as Chris had his way with you, and you with him.

You focused on him, pointedly looking at your watch. Chris’ anxiety peaked when he saw that.

He stepped toward you and thought that he recognized the look in your eyes. He was almost sure that you still wanted him, sure that you still cared. He could only hope as he came closer.

“And then I started drinking. And while you were gone, I came across some posts about me and Jenny. And it took me back there.”

At those words, you crossed your arms and averted your eyes, defenses up. You didn’t want to hear about how much he loved Jenny.

Then, Chris swiftly moved to sit on his haunches, becoming eye level with you.

“And I realized that she never really loved me. Not like you loved me.”

Chris speaking about your love in the past tense made you a little angry and you stared him in the eyes.

It was just the reaction he hoped for. Your attitude. He loved it. He hid a smirk so that he could continue, but you saw the glimmer in his eyes. And you rolled yours.

Chris then picked up the sash to your robe and started playing with it, your eyes drawn to his thick fingers. You didn’t know why that was getting you hot, but it was. You opened your mouth to breathe.

Chris’s voice cracked when he said. “And to me she was the mountaintop. Another, different kind of conquest. But I realized that I never really loved her. Not like I love you.”

Present tense.

Now you were looking into his eyes, about to fall into them. Shit. He had you hooked. But then you remembered, and drew back.

“Yeah, I know what I said, but what I was trying to express was that I know it could never be you to hurt me like Jenny did. That I didn’t want you to hurt me like she did. Not when I’ve thought about forever…”

He moved even closer. “I mean forever, forever, with you.”

All of a sudden you couldn’t breathe. Chris got on his knees.

“I want to be in this position again with you one day. One day soon. But not like this. I don’t want it to be to try to get you back. I want us to be good.”

He sighed, pensive. “I want you to be smiling and happy, and even have our families there.”

You don’t know how your face looked at that moment, but Chris started smiling at you. You were so beautiful to him right now.

“I was drunk, and I couldn’t use my words correctly. I yelled and I screamed and I punched the wall. I fucked up and may have lost you forever, but I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

You felt yourself get emotional, but you tried to calm down.

“I’m just so fucking scared that you will get tired of all the bullshit that comes with me and leave… and I absolutely wouldn’t blame you. But there’s no one else, y/n. No one else can compare…”

“Chris…”

You raised your hand to his face, eyes searching his. You could tell he was being honest.

Chris grabbed your hand and started kissing your palm.

“So.” He looked at you with those eyes. “Is this goodbye?…” His lips were giving you shivers. “Or hello again? Can we start over?”

Chris trailed his lips from your palm, to the pulse point at your wrists and lingered there, licking the delicate skin. Then he moved up your arm to the opening in the robe.

He pushed his torso in between your legs and leaned into your neck, inhaling the lavender bath oil that was your favorite. And his, too.

He moaned as you leaned your head to the side, giving him access. But he didn't just want the physical. He breathed into the shell of your ear.

“Please come home, baby…”

You just moaned as he started sucking right below your ear, your spot. Desire took over for Chris when he heard your sounds.

“Fuck it. I can tell that you still want me. If this is goodbye, then I’m going to make it worth your time.”

Your back arched and Chris palmed your bounteous ass over the robe, pulling you flush to his crotch. He smiled as he felt the warmth coming from you.

“You’re so fucking warm, babe. Are you wet, too? Are you wet for me? Do you want my cock? I mean, do you want your thick, fat, cock to fuck you babe?”

Chris was kissing down your neck into the cleavage that the robe was revealing with each sentence as you opened your legs. Your pussy was quivering for him, but you still didn’t answer him.

Chris looked up at you with those eyes and pulled on the robe sash. It fell open and he looked down and bit his lip, taking in your warm skin, lovely breasts, and elegant pussy, with the manicured triangle of hair kept like he preferred, and offered up for his taking.

You still looked like his girl, and he smiled as he looked up into your eyes. But he had to be certain. He lowered his head, keeping eye contact and descended toward one small hard mountain peak, kissing it gently, tentatively, while watching you.

You were mesmerized as his tongue peeked out and licked it, then he opened his lips and enveloped it, moistening it with his pink lips.

The look on your face compelled him, and he fully enveloped your nipple and started sucking roughly, still keeping eye contact. You were determined not to close your eyes, but it was difficult. You bit your lip to stay still.

Chris’s bandaged hand was dangerous, however, and it came up to pinch and roll your other nipple. You arched into his hand as he became rougher and rougher.

He switched nipples and hands and his saliva made your breast that much more pliable and sensitive. He slapped it, and then rubbed it with the rough bandage, making you cry out and moan as his other hand trailed down your body to your cunt.

“This pussy will still be mine, even if you leave me.” He smiled cockily while looking down on it.

He looked at you, before lifting his hand to his mouth, looking straight into your eyes and spitting on his fingers before bringing them down to your cunt.

“I think, that if even if you leave and move back to Houston, and I come to town, that if I I call you, even if you’re with someone else, you would meet me in a parking lot and let me fuck you over the hood of my rental car.”

He was faintly tracing your pussy lips and instantly your control was gone. You were sopping wet, because of his words and because of the knowledge that what he was saying was the truth.

“Oh,” was all you could say. You were adding to the wetness of the saliva on his fingers.

Chris smiled and tilted his head as his two thick digits breached your opening. He had his answer as you threw your head back and let him finger fuck you while he rolled and slapped and pinched your nipple.

His thumb was lightly brushing your clit and you wanted so much more. Chris could sense that and he pressed down roughly on it, causing an electric jolt up your body, which you keened for, arching your body into his hand.

Chris moved his hand from your breast to your neck and applied the pressure that you wanted and needed and that he was expert at while he stuffed another finger inside you and circled your clit with his thumb.

You floated among the clouds as you came like fireworks, and all over his hand.

He watched you come undone, and come down, rubbing his hard cock through his pants with one hand while he sucked your juices off his fingers, releasing each with a loud pop. When you opened your eyes, you smiled.

You pulled his hand and started licking yourself off him, flattening your tongue against his palm.

“I forgive you Chris. I forgave you when you conned your way into my room, you ass.”

You smiled against his hand as he groaned, relieved and desperate for you.

“But you still have some work to do.”

“What do you want? Anything.”

Now Chris was breathless, anticipating payback.

“First, you need to take those damn clothes off.”

He quickly moved to take off his shirt, and then stood up to take off his pants. You smirked as hs cock sprang up immediately when he peeled them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Chris caught your look.

“What? I wanted to be prepared.” He chuckled softly while pumping his cock lightly, expecting to immediately fuck you.

He moved toward you. But you quickly moved off the couch and into the bedroom, forcing him to follow you, and his dick, into the other room.

You sat on the edge of the bed as he remained standing.

“What do you need, babe?”

You reached for his cock and tugged it toward you, opening your mouth and deep throating it, wetting it from root to tip and then spit on it. Chris moaned as you started to stroke. Then you stopped.

“I need you to jack off for me.”

“Ugh! You’re so fucking nasty. I love you.”

Chris instantly started where you left off. This didn’t seem like work.

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him, and licking your lips.

“And I need for you not to stop, and not to come. Until I tell you.”

You looked him in the eye and that was when Chris knew he was doomed. A chill ran down his spine as you reached down and started playing with your pussy.

“Fuck!”

You looked so damn good. He licked his lips and stroked harder and faster, his balls drawing up already.

“Shit, y/n.”

You watched his eyes, and got wetter at his blown pupils and glazed look.

“You like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”

His voice was broken and desperate. He fisted his cock, and held his balls, trying to stave off the inevitable.

You turned around, got on your knees and reached back between your legs and ran your fingers up and down your slit.

“How about that?”

“Goddamnit!”

Chris grunted as he tried to hold it in. You were a goddess. He licked his lips. Wanting to taste you. So he did.

He dove in, tongue competing with your fingers to command your slit. You finally gave in to his expert mouth and he savored your salty goodness.

“Fuck, Chris, you better still be…”

“I am. Christ.”

He was leaking in his hand, but he had it under control. Barely.

Chris stopped eating you out for a second, grabbed your ass cheek with one hand, stretched you open, spit on your tighter hole, and watched it slide down your satin lips to drip onto the bed.

His warm saliva made your pussy quiver and he watched it lovingly. Then he dove in again.

He sped up his movements with his other hand and you could hear the smooth skin of his dick sliding on his palm while his tongue did forbidden things to you.

“Ffffffuuckkkkkkk! Chrisssss.”

You came, burying your scream in the mattress, and even harder than before. You couldn’t believe that he’d turned the tables on you.

Chris ate you out through your orgasm, holding you down with one hand like it was nothing.

He was god of war, love, and sex, all at once.

Fuck Captain America.

You came again, almost immediately.

When he was done with his meal, he let you go, wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand and stepped back.

“Fuck, what do you want me to do? I can’t take it much longer…” Chris’s sexy growling voice got to you.

“What do you wanna do, Chris? How do you want to take me, Daddy?” Chris’s cock jumped in his hand, he slapped your ass, and watched it jiggle.

Chris entered your wet, wet pussy, and marvel how if felt like it was choking the life out of him. He had to stop moving, or he would burst almost immediately.

“How the fuck are you so wet, but so tight. It’s like a fucking vice grip, geeze.”

You both waited and felt it jump inside you, then Chris reached down, grabbed you by the neck and pulled you upright and flush to his chest.

One hand clutched your throat and the other arm hooked under your leg, allowing him to piston up into you upright while your other leg dangled, your big toe barely touching the ground.

Chris held you and fucked up into you, grunting each time the large mushroom cap head of his cock was stuffed into your pussy.

“Ugh, gatdamn it, you were thinking of leaving, ugh, you wanted to leave this, mmmmmm, this dick that, ugh, that fucks you like this?”

Chris’s mouth was near your ear, which was on his shoulder because your head had fallen back on his chest. He was using you like a sex toy as he fucked you senseless.

His dick slicked in and out of you with obscene wetness, Chris somehow lifting you up and slipping completely out of you and pounding back into you with force.

“Chris!!!”

You started shaking, your center of gravity being where you and he were connected.

He fucked you even harder and faster, chasing his release, but he maneuvered his hand to find your clit, refusing to come before you.

“Fuck! You know you were going to miss this cock that your sweet cunt fits… like… a …mutha …fuckin… glove!”

"Ahhhh!"

You screamed as you fluttered around his cock. He could take only so much before he had to shut his eyes and bite down on your collarbone. Chris’s legs were trembling now.

"Take all of it!." He was hitting your spot. "How does it feel?"

Although the feeling was intense, you tried to speak.

"L-l-l-like h-heav-v-v-ennnnn."

The sound of your voice made his release start to build.

With each of his thrusts, the sweet tightness began to build until you came, screaming and moaning in pleasure.

“Oh shiiiiitttttt!” Chris exploded inside your tight wet cunt. He wanted to fill you up like never before. He wanted to put his baby in you and tie you forever to him. That made his balls empty.

He fell back on the bed, with you on top of him, slipping out of you and depositing you on the bed beside him.

Chris couldn't help but smile as you both came down. He was made for this.

Chris put his hand on your cheek, brushing your beautiful lips with his thumb. You smiled under his attention into his sea blue eyes.

“I love you.” You grinned.

“God, I love you.” You sobered up, taking in the weight of his words.

“Is it weird that I want to get you pregnant before we’re married?”

You made a face.

“Who says I want to marry you?”

Chris scooped you in his arms and rolled you over on top of him.

“You don’t want to marry me? You’d say no if I asked?”

You held in a giggle.

“Nah. I’m gonna move back to Houston and marry someone else so you can come in town and fuck me over the hood of your rental car. That sounds hot as fuck.”

Chris released an anxious breath.

You took his head in your hands.

“Easy now. Ask what you want to ask.” Chris started to speak. You put your finger over his mouth.

“When you want to ask it.” You looked into his eyes again. “I won’t break your heart.”

Chris smiled at you and said, “I know.” He kissed you.

And when you pulled away, breathless, he told you, “You’re the One.”

----------- Read Part Two: It Takes Two

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#Chris Evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans ask #chris evans fic #chris evans x you #chris evans reader insert #chris evans angst #ask dj

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sugamamacustard · 3 years

Text

Come see me

Pairing: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo X Omega! Reader

Genre: Minor Angst, but other than that, fluffy cuddle piles.

Request: Hi kinda nervous to request this since I'm very shy but..Is it okay to request a scenario where omega reader is feeling very insecure and jealous after idk like some new person comes in the pack and everyone is paying attention to them and reader feels very neglected but keeps quiet, starts spending more time with their friends and avoids the pack and their alpha. And then the pack plus alpha notices and drags reader back, and reassures them, and the entire pack cuddles and hug reader. Kinda like angst to fluff. Could be any team and any alpha. Though I prefer kuroo and nekoma. Sorry if it's too long I've always wanted an imagine like this. You don't have to do it if you don't wanna tho! I was just asking :)Have a good day💜

Summary: Being a manager for Nekoma was a thankless job, but one you were proud to do. You were surrounded by alphas who wanted what was best for you and in turn, you wanted what was best for them. However, sometimes what’s best for them...may not be best for you or your omega.

Warnings: Jealous omega! reader, reader almost goes into an omega depression, small angst,

Author’s Note: No need to be shy, darling! This is my first request for this blog so I’m super excited to write this and to fulfill my first request.!

Requests: Open!

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵ Originally, the idea of another manager for the Nekoma team excited you.

➵ You were really pumped to have an extra set of hands on board to help keep scores, or pick up balls, or put up and take down nets.

➵ To have someone else to joke and laugh with on the sidelines while Yaku was yelling at Lev, or to assist you in prying Kenma’s switch from his hands so he can eat.

➵ Having another manager seemed like such a good idea. A new friend for the pack.

➵ Until it wasn’t.

➵ Ichika was a kind and sweet girl in class 2-B (You were in 2-D), and originally you and her got along well.

➵ Your omega didn’t outright hate her, more of an indifference, and your personalities melded well together.

➵ And from what you’ve heard from her friends, she talked about the boys on the volleyball team a lot.

➵ So you figured she would be a good fit.

➵ However, you weren’t certain on it anymore.

➵ Maybe she was too good of a fit.

➵ ‘You’re being silly’ You told yourself.

➵ ‘She’s getting to know the team, that’s all’ You practically chanted in your head like a mantra.

➵ ‘She’s honing in on our pack. Our alpha.’ Your omega sneered, padding in a circle before flopping down, growling lowly. You tried reminding her that Kuroo was nothing more than a captain.

➵ An attractive captain who who you found yourself finding every opportunity in the book to talk too. But that was fine print.

➵ He was not your alpha. He was the commanding alpha of the volleyball team, but not yours.

➵ And maybe that was what hurt most. Knowing you had Zero claim on anyone in the pack, therefore you had no right to demand the attention.

➵ They gave their attention to who they wanted.

➵ Even if nowadays, it seemed to be Ichika more and more often then not.

➵ It hurt, when you both would be sitting on the sidelines and Inuoka would brush right past you to chat with Ichika.

➵ Or when you both would be passing out towels and water bottles and they only thanked her.

➵ It began hurting to the point you had to bite down whines or whimpers. Your omega was upset, therefore you were even more upset. But they seemed happy,

➵ Who were you to ruin that?

➵ Just because you saw them as pack, doesn’t mean they saw you in the same light.

➵ You tried pushing away that god awful thought, but it was planted and nothing was moving it.

➵ And whether you noticed it or not, you were acting on that thought.

➵ You didn’t stay after practice for anyone, instead cleaning up quickly and efficiently while the boys were in the change room.

➵ Leaving behind your notes for that day’s practice along with the gym keys right in front of the door.

➵ You didn’t wait for anyone and took a different way home so no-one would try to walk with you.

➵ You needed to separate from them, even if it hurt. Even if you cried on the way home. Even if you stayed in your nest from the minute you got home to the minute you had to leave for school the next day.

➵ Even if your meals got smaller and smaller.

➵ You never sat with the team anymore, Ichika taking your spot like she belonged there.

➵ Instead you sat with a group of friends from your class. They never asked any questions, which you were thankful for.

➵ You began wearing scent blocking patches to hide your scent, hide the sour note that almost always accompanied it.

➵ You just...tried to disappear. You still fulfilled your manager duties as you always did, but never more.

➵ Never gave words of encouragement. No pointers on how to improve. No jokes on Lev’s behalf. No nothing.

➵ And holy shit, that Irked Kuroo.

➵ He was always so excited for practices at the end of the day because that was when he would get to show off in front of you.

➵ Prove he was a strong alpha.

➵ He would admit, he liked you...A lot. He was even working on a future courting gift (It was a bracelet with intricate beading that looked almost like a cuff) but was having a few difficulties so couldn’t gift it to you yet.

➵ However, you were pulling away.

➵ Away from him. Away from the pack. Just away.

➵ You barely even glanced their way anymore.

➵ During practice, you just sat there, completed homework, then took notes. He never saw you after that.

➵ He tried to pack up as fast as he possibly could at the end of practice but was always late. You were always, without fail, gone. No trace of you ever being there except the notes you left in your wake with the keys.

➵ His alpha kept barking at him to stop you. To come up with any excuse to keep you here long enough for him to walk you home in the very least. But you were always gone.

➵ He tried everything, but you seemed one step ahead of him.

➵ His alpha blamed Ichika. Ever since she showed up you began pulling away.

➵ Were you jealous? Were you angry with them for trying to keep her away?

➵ They only put up with her because it was obvious you didn’t like her. So they tried keeping her away.

➵ Was that backfiring on them?

➵ Kuroo didn’t even know why there was another manager. You were perfect for them. Like a puzzle piece. Their personal cheerleader.

➵ Maybe school was piling on you?

➵ No. You always went to him for help.

➵ Maybe the duties were too much?

➵ No because you were still doing them all.

➵ Come to think of it, what was Ichika even doing?

➵ She did nothing except fawn over them and purr over their skills, which was nice for the ego boost at first, but soon just got annoying when she tried scenting them.

➵ It seemed she was fixated on him especially, trying to rub her neck all over him only for him to push her off with a growl. He had only scented two people in his life.

➵ Kenma, because he needed the practice, and you, which was why he practiced.

➵ And he planned to keep it that way.

➵ But you were still staying away. So he scented no one.

➵ The final straw was a Friday practice.

➵ You were sitting a ways a way in the corner, doing your work with your jacket wrapped in front of you like a boundary.

➵ His heart hurt at the thought of you feeling the need to recluse yourself like this.

➵ He made a motion to Kenma, his co-commanding alpha, who nodded before making his way to you.

➵ As he should’ve predicted, Ichika intercepted him. She tried to hug him, but he dodged, side stepping and trying to get to you, but she persisted.

➵ “Why don’t you give me the same attention you give her, huh? Rumor has it she’s been bordering on dropping for days, nothing but attention seeking in my humble opinion.”

➵ He paused in his efforts, looking down to her once more.

➵ “I’m sorry?”

➵ Ichika rolled her eyes. “It’s been all over school. Surprised you haven’t heard. She skips lunch more often than not, nowadays. People have even started bets as to when she finally drops. Real shame though. Gonna miss having someone else do all the work.”

➵ You were missing lunches. Lunches were meals he could guarantee you ate, and you suddenly weren’t doing so anymore. He was failing you.

➵ You were dropping right under their noses and as your pack they were watching it happen.

➵ As your head alpha, and hopefully future alpha, he was watching you drift away and ultimately fade from him.

➵ He was watching this happen?!

➵ What part of this was okay?! None of it.

➵ He was loosing you. Hell, if he hadn’t lost you already.

➵ No. You were here, at school, He still had time. He still had a chance. He still had- his jacket and bento.

➵ Turning tail, the alpha made his way to his bag, digging out the bento (Come to think of it, he hadn’t been eating much since this whole debacle started anyway) and grabbing his jacket before making his way to you once more.

➵ He didn’t pay any mind to Ichika, this time fully shoving past her to get to you.

➵ You looked up to him skeptically, watching as the alpha, the head alpha, bent to lay on his knees, slowly putting the bento on his jacket and sliding it in front of you.

➵ Your heart and mind were going a mile a minute as you watched the commanding fucking alpha of the pack, bow to you. Ask for your permission to get close to you.

➵ What-

➵ “Hi?”

➵ Kuroo said nothing in return, only lowering his chin to the ground, looking up to you. Almost waiting for you to allow him closer.

➵ When you said nothing he motioned towards the bento with a nod of his head. He was almost like a pup with how minimal his actions were.

➵ When you slowly took the bento, he raised in time with the box, watching you open it. when you popped a small bit of rice into your mouth. He purred loudly, slowly inching closer. He laid his jacket over yours, adding another layer to your barrier, which you slowly moved to allow him in.

➵ He crawled into your space, slowly moving your books and bag to nuzzle into your neck. You allowed him to, eating more rice-- which seemed to appease him.

➵ One by one, more of the teammates came by, offering their jackets to your now makeshift nest, joining in on the cuddle pile.

➵ All but Ichika, who seemed to angrily stomp about while cleaning up the few stray volleyballs.

➵ But you didn’t really care about her at this point.

➵ Your omega was at peace, especially with the alpha you’ve been pinning after purring into your neck, scenting you and pressing small kisses to your neck.

➵ This was your pack. Your home.

➵ And they wouldn’t let you fall behind.

#a/b/o haikyuu #alpha/beta/omega AU #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#alpha/beta/omega verse #alpha/beta/omega #alpha kuroo #alpha kuroo tetsuro #alpha kuroo x omega reader #alpha kuroo tetsuro x omega reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsuro x reader #omega reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #custard writes

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

sensation

w/c: 4.6k

warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending

summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate

a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy

“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.

the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.

tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.

he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.

your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.

zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.

besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.

finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.

“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.

tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.

“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.

grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”

with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.

“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.

“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.

“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.

when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.

“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”

you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.

you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.

“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.

she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”

“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.

“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.

coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.

the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.

“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”

“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.

“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.

custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.

“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.

“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.

after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.

“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.

“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.

“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.

not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.

you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.

“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.

“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”

tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”

he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.

“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”

tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.

“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”

“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”

you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.

he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.

you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.

“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.

you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.

tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.

you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.

“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”

your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”

“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.

you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.

he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”

you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.

“you know what? yeah.”

that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he’s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.

he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.

“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.

“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.

“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.

tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”

your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”

“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.

“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”

“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.

“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”

giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”

well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland request #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Note

Hihihi congrats on the milestone!👀 can I get atsumu with 📷(is it this camera or the camera that is flashing idk hhhhhh)? If you wanna have something to base it in, I really like “驀然回首那人卻在燈火闌柵處” from 青玉案 which I know isn’t a happy prose exactly but let’s be shallow for a second and take it at face value hehe😌

Miya Atsumu x Confession (708 words)

For Cadence <3 – not quite a meet-cute because the poetry you gave me didn’t quite fit that, but I hope this suffices.

Masterlist link here

You return home for Hatsumode in January, a dutiful daughter who heeds her mother’s call. So too, do the Miya twins, though you suspect Atsumu rather resents the relentless nagging from his mother asking him when he’s going to bring home a prospective daughter in law from the way he escapes from his parent’s house, scaling the fence to sit beside you on your parent’s garden swing, a bottle of sake as his entry fee.

“I already told her that dating’s a pain. They all just wanna date me cos they think volleyball players rake in cash, but c’mon, ya know how I’m underpaid especially if I don’t land any sponsors.”

A familiar complaint you’ve heard throughout the years, one that you’re growing impatient with.

“Maybe it’s because your standards are too high, and you rule out all the decent ones.”

He reacts with expected scorn, sneering at his shot glass – “I’d jump at a chance for a date with someone decent, but I don’t know a single ‘un”.

“Don’t you?” You bristle at the slight to your gender. “Miya Atsumu, you’re exaggerating as usual.”

“Fine – name me a single decent person willing to date me then.”

You stare at him. You consider throwing your unfinished sake at him, screaming that for god’s sake you’ve been in love with him ever since you were fifteen and he finally outgrew his childhood habit of trying to gross you out by showing you the frogs he catches on rainy days.

But you don’t.

It’s not his fault you’re a coward for not admitting that you’re tempted to kiss him on the lips every time he swings you into his arms when he wins a match. It’s not his fault you’re a coward for not admitting that you’ve cried yourself to sleep when you heard he got a girlfriend for the first time.

No.

The fault is all yours.

And it’s your choice if you want to communicate like a damn adult. Even if you still feel like a teenager with a crush every time he crosses your path.

You take another swig of sake, inviting liquid courage to flood your veins.

“What about me?”

His head swivels around to look at you almost comically.

“You?”

You’re tempted to back paddle into a joke, reassume the status quo. But you gather the scraps of your courage to step out of the dark, to offer him with open palms your bare, beating heart.

“Yes, me.” You say, looking him straight in the eye. “I think I’m a decent person. And I’d date you.”

The look of confusion on his face is a knife to your chest. You get off the swing, ready to retreat to your childhood bedroom to mourn your embarrassment and heartbreak by your longtime crush.

With a setter’s reflexes, Miya Atsumu catches your elbow before you slip out of his grasp.

“Yer not joking, are ya? Cos if ya are, it’d be a pretty shitty joke.”

You shake your head, too tired to yank the knife buried in your chest yourself. “Why would I joke about this?”

He trips over his words in his haste to respond. “C-cos I’d never imagine yer wanna date me in a million years – ya always got so angry with me when we were kids-”

“That’s cos you were a little shit and tried pranking me all the damn time”, you reply. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. G'dnight, Atsumu.”

“Wait!” This time he trips over his feet, falls headfirst into a pool of golden streetlight. “I haven’t given you my answer yet!”

“What?” You bite out, resorting to hostility to mask your open wound.

His smile is genuine, a little shy.

“If yer crazy enough to have me, I’d leap at the chance.”

You’re not sure about the sequence of events that follow next.

The only thing you know for sure is that he steals your absolution for being careless with your heart by crashing his lips onto yours, like a tidal wave breaking onto shore. And you let your very breath be stolen from your lungs by the golden boy you’ve loved all this while.

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svnflowervol666 · 3 years

Note

you said send in some headcannons so how about some silly/kinda pesty bf harry <3😔🤌

Omg pls I love pesty bf!Harry. This is super short but I loved writing these so much!

Word Count: 1.2k

NSFW

The first thing that comes to mind is cold feet

No matter how many times you tell him how much you hate it, he’d always either wrap his freezing cold feet around yours or reach his legs over in bed to poke you with his toes just to get a rise out of you

I also think he is the type of person to scream bloody murder from across the house and when you come running to see if he’d fallen down the stairs or cut his finger off in the kitchen, he just looks at you and says some shit like, “Come cuddle with me”

100% is the type of bitch to send you pictures of rotten fruit he sees at the farmer’s market or a squished bug he saw on the train and be like, “Looks like you :(((”

Speaking of annoying text messages

He would send you the most grotesque and haunted memes in the middle of the night for absolutely no reason

And would call you after an hour asking why you haven’t responded to them

He’d also be the type of boyfriend to ask you what you’re doing and when you say you’re taking a bath or getting dressed, ironically reply with, “Without me? :(”

Texts you the morning after he leaves your house and thanks you for the head you gave him the night before

Claims it was “some of your best work yet” every single time

Sends you pictures of his outfits and asks, “Does my dick look massive in these pants?”

All of the pictures of him in your phone are ones of him giving you the middle finger because he cannot take anything seriously ever

When you’re driving somewhere, he’d yell at you at an unreasonable volume to be quiet because his favorite song is coming up next and it’s just Get Low by the Lil John

And he knows every single word and tries to shake his ass in the driver’s seat

Sneaks up behind you and slaps you on the ass for no reason

So hard that it hurts and causes an argument sometimes but he always wiggles his way out of getting the silent treatment

I feel like he likes to people-watch, but he’d also lean over to you after every couple that walks by and whisper some shit like, “Do you think she pegs him?” or, “I bet they only have sex with the lights off.”

He definitely steals food from your plate or wants a bite of whatever you’re eating even if he told you he didn’t want it

“It tastes better 'cos it’s yours” lookin’ ass

When you’re eating a popsicle or a lollipop or anything that can remotely be considered sexual, he’d start moaning obnoxiously and mumble something like, “Fuck, takin’ it so well.”

He mocks you with the most annoying valley girl accent even if that’s not how you talk

Simply just to be an asshole

You’d always come home to him digging through your stuff

Using your skincare products or rifling through your drawers

He’d hold up a pair of your underwear and ask you why you haven’t shown him those yet with the dumbest little pout on his face

I also feel like he’d barge in on you in the bathroom instead of waiting for you to come out

If you’re washing your face or brushing your teeth but he has to pee, too bad

The other way around too if you're the one using the bathroom but he’s looking for a specific bottle of nail polish under your sink smhhh

He always sits on the counter and watches you do your makeup and asks you questions about every little thing you do

“What’s that for? What does it do? How is that color different than the one you just used? It looks the same t’ me.”

“How do you not poke your eye out with that?”

Winces when you pull your fake lashes off

If he even slightly chips the color on his nails, he’d whine for you to redo them until you finally cave and fix it for him

He’d walk over to you on the couch and sit right on top of you with his entire body weight, regardless of how you’re sitting

He breathes heavy and chews loudly on purpose when you’re watching a movie to see how long it takes you to glare at him

If you’re playing with his hair and you stop, he’ll find your hand and put it back on his head to ask you to keep going without actually asking

I feel like he begs to be the little spoon

Even if you’re not sleeping over at each other’s house, he’d text you and ask you to come over and spoon him because he’s cold with the pleading face emoji

When you’re both at a party that he didn’t want to go to, he’d pull you aside after some time and whisper into your ear, “Alright, you said hi to everyone....can we please go home and have sex now? M’ dick’s gettin’ lonely”

When he’s sick.....he is the Biggest Baby

Even if it’s just a cold, he’d act like he’s dying just so you pay attention to him

“Doctor’s orders were cough medicine, tons of fluids, and back rubs from m’ girlfriend.”

I can’t explain this, but.... I know he would try to hold toes with you (I’m so twisted for this I know)

Would scribble random notes on all of your things

Like your grocery list

Bread, tomatoes, cheese, pickles, ... magnum XXL condoms for Harry :-)

Or the list of phone numbers you keep on your fridge

Doctor’s #, vet’s #, car service #, ... for when you need your ass eaten

He’d absolutely interrupt whatever you’re doing to tell you that he finally found the thing that he saw on TikTok at the store

And when he’s drunk he’d try to get you to learn how to renegade with him

And since I mentioned drunk Harry

He is so loud and obnoxious that it’s unbearable

He’s one of those boyfriends that starts yelling about how much he loves you and will scream at you from across the room just to wave at you and say, “Hiiiiiiiiii!”

The biggest hype man and would squeal when the DJ plays some shit like Kim Petras or Mr. Brightside

Even though he pretends to hate it whenever he hears it anywhere else

He also announces to the room that he’s going home to “make love” to his girlfriend whenever you’re leaving

He’s extremely stubborn to put to bed when he’s that drunk

Claiming that he doesn’t need water because he’s a big boy or that he’s fine and still wants to fuck you even though he’s falling asleep as he’s talking

When you’re finally both lying down and trying to sleep, he rolls over and starts spewing the weirdest nonsense

“Do you think Lewis and Clark fucked? I mean, they definitely did right? I feel like they did. There’s no way they didn’t.”

“You’ve never faked it with me, have you? I don’t think you have, but you’d tell me if you did, wouldn’t you? You acted kinda weird when we fucked in that tent, but that was real, right?” and then get upset when you start laughing at him

“Can we go swimming tomorrow? I wanna go swimming tomorrow.”

I know he wouldn’t do all of this, but annoying bf!Harry lives in my head rent free so I will simply pretend he is like this in real life to some degree

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles headcanon #harry styles headcanons #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #bf!harry #asks

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Note

YOURE BACK! I hope you’re feeling better and more yourself!!

Can I request a real fluffy one for blurb night where you and Tom meet on a family holiday (you with your fam him with his) and become like pen pals with FaceTiming and texting cos you live on opposite ends of England and he falls for you when he doesn’t mean to? (Bonus points for my main man Harry being a wingman!)

A/N: I am honestly, feeling like a new person!! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Swearing.

You'd met Tom last year, you were both on family holidays and met in the hotels bar, you met multiple times throughout your two weeks stay. You got on really well, so well you agreed to keep in contact.

"I go home tomorrow." You said as Tom placed a drink in front of you.

"Me too." Tom said as he placed himself next to you and took a sip of his drink. "So, where are you heading back to?" He asked as he watched you take a sip of your drink.

"Manchester." You said and he smiled.

"No way, London." He informed, you'd not actually discussed where you lived yet.

"You still live in London?" You asked in disbelief, you'd assumed he'd live in America now being a huge star.

"Yeah, I mean I have a house in America but I only use it when I'm filming and for holidays. London is where I live." He said, his arm sliding around the back of your seat. "I'm gonna miss you." He said and it was honest, genuine.

"I'm sure you'll forget about me soon enough." You said, a hint of sadness to your tone.

"Oh no darling, I don't think so." He said and you smiled as your brother joined you both, conversation shifting onto something different.

You kept in touch, he texted you an incredible amount and facetimed you at least once a week. You expected it to dry up as he forgot about you, but that never happened. You were currently on one of your face time calls.

"When are you gonna come down to London?" He asked, he was sat in bed, hair a mess from his sleep as he' just woken up. "Also, what the hell is on your face?"

"It's a face mask, need to get rid of those spots." You huffed, face green from your products.

"Oh, I thought you were trying out for the hulk." He teased.

"Arsehole." You huffed through a laugh.

"I know, I'm sorry," he laughed as he shifted his arm to behind his head. You had to stop yourself swooning as his bicep bulged. "Anyway, London." He brought the topic back to where he wanted it.

"Tom, you're not even in London, why would I go there now?"

"I'm back in like a week, meet me?"

"I can't just ditch my job."

"I've already said you should move into our house with the boys." He suggested, he brought this up at least once a month.

"My family though." You laughed.

"Shit, yeah. We need to work something out." He concluded and you nodded, conversation turning to what you had planned for the week.

Tom almost felt sad as he ended the call with you, sleep threatening to pull you under after, three hours, Tom realised as he checked the timing on his phone. He dropped his phone onto his bed as Harry knocked on the door and came in.

"On the phone with Y/N?" He asked as he entered, Tom firing a good night text your way as you fired back a good morning, have an amazing day. He smiled at his phone before looking at Harry.

"Yeah."

"You asked her out yet?" Harry teased and Tom furrowed his brows.

"No."

"Oh come on Tom, you are completely in love with her."

"Will you just drop it. I don't think it'll work out. I can't even get her to come to London." Tom groaned and Harry huffed as he sat next to his brother.

"And why does she have to come to London? Why don't you go to her?" He suggested.

"I can't just ask to go to hers."

"Then don't ask." Harry smirked.

Tom: Change of plan x

You furrowed your brows as you recieved the vague text message, asking him to explain himself in response.

Tom: It'd be really amazing if you opened your front door for me x

You were filled with confusion, what was he on about? You ultimately couldn't help yourself as you made your way to your front door, opening it. You almost gasped as you were met with Tom, smile on his face and a suitcase in hand.

"Hope you don't mind, wanted to surprise you, changed my flight pattern." Your heart soared, you were absolutely in love with the curly haired boy and this gesture didn't help your situation.

"How did you know where I lived?" You asked in disbelief.

"I remember from when I sent you that bracelet on your birthday." He smiled as you moved to let him in, your hand instinctively grasping the small chain around your wrist.

"How long are staying for?" You asked and he turned around with a shrug.

"As long as you'll have me."

Having Tom around was fun, showing him all your favourite things and places. He'd been at yours for almost three weeks, your sofa-bed becoming his own, you wondered when he'd grow bored and head home but he never did.

"Can I ask you something?" Tom pulled you from your thoughts, you were sat on your couch, a bottle of white wine had already been shared between you.

"Always." You answered, feet curled beneath your bum, elbow resting on the back of the couch, head planted in your hand.

"Do you have a boyfriend? Anyone you're talking to?"

"No. You?"

"No, do you have anyone you've got your sights on?"

"Yeah." You admitted, "you?"

"Yeah."

"Lucky lady." You laughed and he joined.

"I'm sure whoever you're gunning for is luckier." He said and you felt a wave of boldness wash over you, what did you have to lose? If he didn't feel the same at least you wouldn't bump into him on the street, right?

"He'll never know, he likes someone else."

"How do you know?" He asked, heart hammering in your chest as you went for it.

"Because he just told me so." You admitted and Tom raised his eyebrows.

"I don't remember him saying anything about who he liked."

"He's a Hollywood actor, I doubt it'd be me he was talking about."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." He whispered and you wondered at what point you'd gotten so close, when the distance between you had become non existent. Faces close.

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"We're both on the same page here?" You asked, hoping you hadn't grossly misread this situation.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

"I think I'm in love with you to." You admitted.

"Can I?" He asked eyes flicking to your lips.

"Please." You begged. He smiled as his lips met yours, your heart bursting from your chest as he did. You shifted closer to him wrapping your arms around his neck as he placed his on your waist. You both pulled back for air after a moment. His forehead finding your own.

"I wanna make this work." He said, hand on your cheek.

"Me too." There was no reason why it wouldn't, you'd made enough time for each other as friends, surely you'd make enough time for each other as partners.

#tom holland blurb #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

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thisisarcanereverie · 3 years

Text

When in Love (Sam Wilson x Reader)

A/N: I love Sam Wilson period.

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

REQUEST SOME PROMPTS

Summary: Bucky did indeed flirt with Sam’s sister again........and now they’re getting married. Sam brought you as his date to their big day.

“It’s not too late to get Carlos,” Sam said as you straightened his tie, Sam could do it by himself but then he wouldn’t have an excuse to have you near him.

“I’m pretty sure people would notice if the groom weren’t to make an appearance.” You said as you finished straightening his tie, letting your hands linger there for a while as you looked up into his dark eyes.

“Don’t know unless we try.” Sam half heartedly said. He was only half joking, for the past few years he saw Sarah happier than she had been in years. He knew Bucky treated her well and that he loved the kids as well. Sam knew Bucky would never hurt them.

Didn’t mean that Sam didn’t have Carlos on speed dial and an alibi set up just in case.

(Y/n) lightly smacked her hand against Sam’s chest as he laughed. His warm dark eyes lit up as he looked at her.

(Y/n) smiled and rolled her eyes. She had gotten ready before driving over and Sam couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was in sky blue.

Sam had been nervous when he asked (Y/n) to be his date to Sarah and Bucky’s wedding. He knew she wasn’t one for parties where she didn’t know anyone but she had surprised him by accepting.

“We have a wedding to get to.” You drew him from his thoughts while grabbing your clutch on the bed and walking out the door to wait for him. You had no idea the effect on Sam, even the way your hips sway when you walked away drove him insane.

Sam took a deep breath in to calm his nerves as he readied himself mentally. Sam was not only going to be one of Bucky’s groomsmen but also the one giving Sarah away.

Their father was the one to give her away the first time she got married, and now since their father had passed Sam was the only one left for the job.

Sam gathered his thoughts and headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs to see your figure waiting for him patiently at the bottom.

You hear the stairs creak under his feet and look up. You had always thought he looked attractive, but put that man in a suit and your knees began growing weak.

You barely managed to tear your eyes away from him for a second as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Ready?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“Ready.”

---

The wedding had been beautiful, it was held at the church. The aisle and booths were decorated with white flowers and ribbons.

On Bucky’s side there was Dora Milaje and T’Challa. Along with Thor, Brunheilda, and the Guardians. Rocket was mostly looking at Bucky’s metal arm though.

The Ceremony had been just as beautiful, Sarah walked down the aisle in a beautiful white gown which made Bucky tear up with Sam. AJ and Cass were already by Bucky’s side, after all Bucky had named them his Best Men.

While Sarah and Bucky said their vows Sam’s gaze couldn’t help but wonder to you. You were seated by Sarah’s side of the church along with almost everyone in town. You smiled and wiped a few tears as the vows got increasingly emotional. You had been seated near a glass stained window and all of its colors bathed you in it’s light. You just got more beautiful the longer he looked at you.

Suddenly your eyes had met with his, and he felt his heart stop and breathing suddenly became difficult. It wasn’t unwelcomed though, in fact it was quite the opposite. Sam didn’t look away and neither did you. You both had stared at each other until Sam decided to be bold and wink and flash his intoxicating smile. You smiled bashfully before winking back and tearing your eyes from his to focus back to the stars of the day as Sam did the same thing.

The reception was back at the house, Sam and a few other people from town helped set up the yard yesterday. Making an area for dancing, dining, food, socializing. Decorating it with magnolias and fairy lights and it looked stunning.

The sun had almost begun to set by the time everyone got back to the house to enjoy the party.

Bucky and Sarah did their first dance as husband and wife to an old 1940′s song and was later joined by AJ and Cass. Bucky had gone above and beyond to make sure the boys had been included in everything.

After their dance ended, something faster paced began to play and almost everyone began to make their way to the dance floor. You and Sam being among them. Sam had twirled you around and danced with you until it was time for the toasts to begin.

“I just want to thank everyone who came here today,” Bucky began to speak on the microphone, a beer in his hand. “I especially want to thank AJ and Cass for letting me into their lives, and my beautiful wife Sarah.” Bucky paused and gave her a wink, Sarah winked back and smiled. “I promise to uphold my vows and protect and love you and the boys with everything I have.” He raised his beer bottle in cheers before taking a quick swig out of it.

AJ and Cass had performed their toast next, welcoming him into their family and just an overall sweet speech which ended with Bucky in tears for the second time that day. It made your heart swell to see Bucky so happy after all these years he had to endure alone and tortured. He deserved this, they all did. Sarah, Bucky, Cass, and Aj deserved to be happy together.

A few other people gave speeches before Sam gave his. Even Rocket gave an impromptu speech.

“Can I have that arm now?”

“No.”

“I’m getting that arm.”

You saw a quick look of fear cross Bucky’s face as Rocket was approached by Dora Milaje and struggled to hold in a small laugh.

Sam made his way up the stage to give his speech. He straightened his jacket before grabbing the microphone.

“Sarah as your brother I am so proud of you and I know if Dad and Mom were here they would say the exact same thing. They would be proud of the woman and of the mother you have become.” Sam said with tears at the corners of his eyes at the mention of their parents, Sarah wiped her tears away as well. “Bucky as your friend I know Steve would be as proud and as happy for you as I am. Happy that you have finally found your peace and I welcome you to the family with open arms.” He raised his glass to Bucky who returned the favor. “Although I do recall telling you not to flirt with my sister,” laughter then ensued as Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “As Sarah’s brother,” Sam then motioned to Carlos sitting at one of the tables, “I want you to know that it’s not too late for me to get Carlos to feed you to the fish if necessary.” Carlos then waved and laughed at the groom who returned the favor. “treat her and the boys well and I guess we’re no longer co workers.” Laughter erupted as Sam took a drink in congratulations as did everyone else.

---

As the party began to die down you had snuck out the pier to get some fresh air away from everyone.

It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy their company and didn’t get to meet some pretty interesting people. It was just you needed a moment to yourself to relax. You were an introvert at heart and so many people at once tended to overwhelm you sometimes.

You watched as the water moved gracefully, breathing in time with it. The lights from the party reflected in the water and the music could still be heard although softer now.

You didn’t even seem to notice a certain man making his way to you before you heard a silent ‘oh shit’.

If Sam thought you had looked beautiful before, now you were angelic. The sun had long before set and now your figure was illuminated by the faint lights of the party and the moon. It gave you an almost ethereal glow as he noticed your hands fidgeting. A habit he noticed a long time ago, you always have to do something with your hands. He honestly found it cute.

Sam had been so caught up in you that he hadn’t noticed a little loose board and nearly tripped over himself.

Your hands stopped moving as you saw Sam holding onto the wooden railing of the pier for dear life. You laughed a little at Sam’s embarrassed expression as he tried to walk it off as though it didn’t happen.

You looked back out to the water as Sam finally made his way to your side. Out of the side of your eye you caught a glimpse at the man beside you. The light of the party and the moon made him look romantic, and you noticed that at some point in the night Sam discarded his tie and jacket, rolled the sleeves up his forearms and unbuttoned a button or two on his shirt. He started fidgeting with the watch on his wrist as you both look at the water dancing.

You could hear the upbeat music from the party change to another slow dance.

“You wanna dance?”

You turned and saw Sam with his hand out, ready to take your hand if you accepted. Which you did.

Slowly you and Sam moved with the beat, the music was quiet and the lights had made the moment all the more romantic.

Sam held your hand in one and his other hand went to your waist, pulling you flush against him making your heart beat out your chest.

Neither of you said a word, Sam hummed in tune with the song as you smiled at him.

Sam’s heart was beating out of his chest, usually he was smooth. Usually Sam had no trouble speaking to ladies, but it seemed as though you were the exception.

A couple of seconds passed before Sam finally broke the silence.

“Usually I can speak just fine in front of someone,” He started his deep voice quiet, “but now I can’t seem to speak without getting all tongue tied.”

You laughed a little at that, Sam loved your laugh. He couldn’t understand why but your laugh always seemed to put him in a better mood.

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked with a smile on his face, you wondered if his smile would ever stop making your heart beat faster.

“It’s just something my Mum used to tell me,” you explained, “what you just said reminded me of it.”

“Tell me.” He said his eyes focused on you, eyes reflecting the light from the reception. You looked down bashfully before meeting his eyes again.

“When in love speech becomes meaningless.”

Sam’s dark eyes stared into yours intensely as if you had become the only thing left in the world.

For a moment you wonder if you had misread the signs, maybe you had scared him. Panic starts to fill you as you begin to apologize before his hands move from their places at your waist and hand to either side of your face and kiss you.

The first thing you noticed was that Sam tasted of beer and spice. The next thing you noticed was how soft his lips were on yours and how gently he moved against you.

You had been so lost in the kiss that you hadn’t noticed the music dying down and the lights going out, all there was, was you and him.

You both pulled away reluctantly and watched as the moonlight reflected off the water. Content with not speaking another word and just holding each other in peace.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #the falcon imagine #the falcon x y/n #falcon marvel #falcon mcu #x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #sarah wilson #White Wolf #wakanda #t'challa #black panther #marvel x reader

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tellmenauineo · 3 years

Text

colored by you

pairing: mingyu x reader, vernon x reader

genre: soulmate!au, angst, fluff, smut, comedy (at some points)

warnings: mentions of alcholol and weed, language, unprotected sex

summary: eventually, we fall in love with people who the universe destined us to. but there are complications sometimes.

word count: 11k (i refuse to comment)

a/n: tell me what you think even if you found it bad 🤧🤧 i’m in NEED of feedback,, stay safe during the pandemic and feel free to talk to me!! i’m sorta back 🤠🤠

“I'd prefer if you showed more enthusiasm about it. Success is never an accident,” your mother reads you a lesson, a reproach can be heard in her voice. Your sigh, wishing this conversation to be over so you’ll finally be able to hang up your phone.

“Some people aren't built happy, or cheerful, or forever excited, you know,” you mumble. “I'm satisfied with my academical success – but maybe it isn't a thing I want to achieve now. I don't know.”

“Of course, people aren't built happy – that’s why the Universe made a soulmate for each of us. To make us happy. That's how it works.”

“Uh-huh.”

“One day you’ll understand,” your mother continues. “And you will be happier, happier than ever. Your time will come.”

You won't understand.

The Universe made a soulmate for each of us. The Universe made sure we’ll be aware who is the one, the one, as your mother says, who’ll make you happier and complete, too. It's pretty simple. First words addressing you that you would hear from your soulmate get imprinted on the skin of your ribcage. Close to your heart.

The mechanism of The Universe is perfect. But, sometimes, even perfect-made things get broken.

You won't understand because you already have words tattooed on your skin.

“I guess, we can say love is an accident, isn't it?” you say. “Anyway, I gotta go, mom. I'll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Take care of yourself. And don't stay up late.”

“We both know I'm gonna stay up late,” you smile. “Bye!”

It happened in cold January, four months ago.

“Shrimp Pad Thai?” Chan asks you.

“Mm, yes,” you say, fluttering your eyelashes innocently. Chan gasps and raises his eyebrows in a fake disbelief, but you don't let him open his mouth to say something very sarcastic about you and your habits in eating. “I'm your customer, where are your manners? What if I leave?”

“Then you'll leave and won't have our Shrimp Pad Thai which you order five days a week,” he shrugs.

“I'm older than you – pay me respect!”

“I do? Always? Our very important customer who always eats the same,” he playfully sing-songs and you roll your eyes, trying your best not to give him a smile.

“Go and get us food already,” Momo says. “Both of you better not play on my nerves when I'm hungry.”

When the orders are made and Chan leaves to the kitchen, you get up from your seat.

“I'm going to wash my hands,” you announce, and your friend nods at it.

On your way to the restrooms you recognize a bunch of boys sitting at the window booth. Kim Mingyu, Wen Junhui and Jeon Wonwoo – all of them are in Soonyoung’s group of friends. Wonwoo smiles and waves his hand and you return the gesture. You nod at Junhui and Mingyu – who looks incredibly soft and cute in his light-gray hoodie with his rose cheeks – seems that the ramen he is eating is too spicy for him. He gives you a little “hey”, smiling at you, and you immediately feel how your own cheeks turn blushy. To prevent your embarrassment in front of them, you try to speed up, but, suddenly, collide with someone.

“Uh, I can feel my chilli sauce dripping.”

You look up at the source of the voice, Chwe Hansol, the new Soonyoung’s roommate you heard a lot about (and you’re aware that Soonyoung not just can’t stop telling embarrassing stories about you to his roommate, but also shows him your pictures, because yes, in Soonyoung’s words, it’s a crime if you don’t put on display your best friend and your wonderful, a movie-worthy, friendship) and, apparently, there is no bottle of chilli sauce in his hands. A smug smile is playing on his lips and his chocolate eyes are glistening with a mischief.

“Nice try,” you don't hide a hint of a wipe in your voice as you start moving towards the restrooms – you swear a trip to them never took that long.

You catch Hansol's gaze on you on the way back to your and Momo’s booth and you have nothing to do but narrow your eyes at him, making him smile even wider.

“He's cute, though. The Hansol guy I mean,” Momo concludes after you finished your dinner. “But no shit they're loud.”

You cast an eye at their boost. Mingyu is the loudest and the most talkative among them – but, somehow, looking at him telling something, wildly gesticulating, makes your heart melt a little.

Stupid, you think, it's almost close to feeling happy.

You spot the tattoo when you go to take a shower that night.

Your heart sinks at the sight of the words.

“Uh, I can feel my chilli sauce dripping.”

You don't tell anyone.

“I can take it as an offend, you know,” Soonyoung whines. “You've been turning down my home party offers for more than a month!”

“Um, you haven’t had any,” you say.

It’s true – you try your best to avoid Hansol, and it works even despite the fact he lives with your best friend (sometimes you’re wondering how Soonyoung and Hansol, the pair of complete opposites, rub along okay together, but maybe opposites indeed attract?). You’re not fond of the idea you reduced all your social interactions, but at least you do your huge amount of homework in time – that’s why Soonyoung once called you a homework-doing machine.

Yes, that’s lame.

“It’s because you didn’t come!”

You’re clearly under pressure. You can crack under it a little bit.

Just a little bit.

“Because I-” you forget what you want to say to explain yourself. Or, rather, to fudge up an excuse to trick Soonyoung and keep staying from Hansol as long as possible. “It’s complicated. Besides, your roommate sticks at home for days on end, and if I want to spend time with you I want us to be alone,” you point at him with your pen.

His eyes are getting wider and wider with each millisecond and finally he gasps,

“Are you in love with me?!”

Well.

“What if I am?” you challenge. At the end of the day, that’s the words of the woman who has nothing to lose.

“I-” it’s Soonyoung, who is under pressure right now. “I love you, you know it-”

“But, there’s always a but,” you sigh in a fake manner. “I understand. Maybe I haven’t yearned it yet,” you place your hand over his, and his eyes are glued to your hands. “But, Soonyoung, I want to hear ‘horanghae’ from you someday. Will my dream come true?”

He lifts up his eyes to you. Soonyoung’s known you for over a decade and he clearly can say you’re on the verge of bursting into a hearty laugh despite your dying attempts to keep your face straight. He snaps his hand away and stands up.

“Yah! You betrayed me!” he points a finger at you. “Yah!” he continues in a voice that is a few octaves higher than his usual. “You are gonna pay for your betrayal!”

“Sure thing,” you manage to say through your laugh. You’re well aware that almost all eyes in the campus cafeteria are on you, but it was quite common when the two of you were together. “I’ll see you in court, horangi.”

You wish you were in court.

Instead, you’re in Soonyoung and Hansol’s kitchen, mixing the sickest possible cocktail ever – and you’re not proud of yourself.

“Why it looks like wiper fluid but tastes like lab alcohol?” Seungkwan asks, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Your mirror his expression.

“Um, the creator would like to take to his own grave the secret receipt of this… shit,” you say.

By the creator you mean Soonyoung. You’re on duty tonight – it’s Hansol and Seokmin’s double birthday party and you’re in charge of everything – your best friend had no mercy for the cafeteria joke.

“Don’t tell me the upcoming birthday cakes have the same creator,” the boy says, patting his blond locks back into place. You assume he was dancing, or, more likely, slamming in the living room, while you hide in the kitchen, still avoiding Seokmin co-star of this night, Hansol.

“Nah, I ordered them in the bakery. Customized ones!”

“You should’ve asked me to bake the cakes,” the third person enters the room, and your heart skips a bit. Mingyu walks towards you and Seungkwan and leans on the counter, still having his eyes on you. “I need to improve my baking skills.”

You feel how your cheeks flushing up. Shit, you curse in your head, he just made an appearance and you’re already turning into mush.

“Next time maybe?” you ask, your voice is much more gentle than usual. “Whose birthday is next?”

“Mine,” smiles Mingyu. “But I don’t want to hold a party this year – wanna share a dinner tete-a-tete with someone.”

“Such a great plan! Except for one thing – you don’t have ‘someone’,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes.

“I’ll find one,” Mingyu’s words are steady but his movements are not. His right elbow slips off the counter, and the boy hisses. “I’m already working on this.”

“Sure thing, tiger,” you smile despite feeling that something is scratching your guts in your belly – disappointment? jealousy? sadness? Maybe all of them and maybe none.

You have a soulmate for fuck’s sake and it’s not Mingyu.

“Whatever,” Seungkwan mutters. “I’m going back to the party and I strongly recommend you to stop hiding here,” he says, looking you right in the eyes. “He won’t bite you, you know?”

“What are you talking about?!” you exclaim, but Seungkwan only shrugs.

“Have no idea.”

You want to follow him, take him by the shoulders and ask about everything he knows about – did Hansol tell him about you? Seems so. Has he, Seungkwan, launched the making of the two of you a couple campaign? If yes, you’re doomed.

Mingyu stops you from storming out of the kitchen – you’re back to the reality with his warm hand wrapped around your wrist and you turn to him in surprise, your cheeks already flushed.

“Yes?” you manage to mumble.

“Who are you hiding from?” he asks, and you almost hear concern in his voice. Or maybe you imagine it all.

“Um- no one? He’s being delusional like always, you know?”

“You sure?’ his hand is getting lower, and unexpectedly you find your fingers intertwining with his. Mingyu’s hand is much larger and warmer than yours, his hold isn’t tight, but it magically makes you forget about the whole the soulmate and his wingman thing.

It makes you forget about everything except for this particular moment – Mingyu’s dark eyes on you, your hand in his and the echo of the music playing in the living room. His bronze skin’s glowing in the dim kitchen light (one of the bulbs is dead and neither Soonyoung or Hansol wants to do something about it), his face is innocent and the only thing you can think about – your uncontrollable desire to kiss off two worry lines between his perfect eyebrows.

You don’t even notice that you’re holding your breath, too afraid to interrupt the moment.

“I’m sure,” you whisper and he nods. Mingyu probably can hear the beating of your racing heart, and you don’t mind at all – you would eagerly tell him how he makes you feel if he wants to know.

He leans closer to you, his breath is tickling the soft skin of your cheek and you hear him ask,

“May I?”

But before you can nod, Seokmin’s piercing voice, like a bolt out of the blue, is calling your name,

“Soonyoung’s trying to kiss me!”

He is louder than any bomb, you think, and that’s enough to take you out of the trance. You slowly turn to him, letting go of Mingyu’s hold on your wrist.

“It’s his way to wish you a happy birthday,” you negotiate, but Seokmin’s gaze is wandering between your and Mingyu’s bodies. His hand follows his eyes, gesturing at the two of you.

“Are you-”

“No, no, no,” you cut him off.

“Man, you need me to get the thing squared away?” Mingyu sounds irritated. You turn your head to steal a look of him. You never saw him like that – at least, not with his friends. Even when his team was defeated at the bowling a month or so ago he seemed worn out, but no hint of irritation on his face – just an exhausted smile combined with a self-mockery behavior. That night you almost regretted saying your wrist was injured so you spent the whole game sipping bubble teas instead of helping your team from sinking to the bottom.

(Jeonghan didn’t buy that spectacular performance, by the way)

“I came to complain?” he looks at you, the eyes so innocent, calling for help, so you smile in response – it’s always like this with Seokmin – the boy can melt even stone hearts.

“Let me check on him,” you say to Seokmin, and he eagerly nods. You pat on Mingyu’s right forearm, your fingers stay on his hard bicep for a little too long, and it makes you lick your lips. “And if he needs to get into bed, I expect some help from you, Mingyu.”

His face softens, and he chuckles, closing his eyes for a second.

“Let’s get it then.”

“I ain’t leaving till I help you with this,” Mingyu says, referring to the apartment that looks like a battlefield (of beer pong). “You already look tired.”

“I’m tired,” you admit. “But you have classes like in…” you check your watch. “…four hours.”

“I’ll sit in the back of the classroom,” seeing the question in your eyes, he adds. “I’ll catch some sleep, don’t worry.”

“Sounds stupid, but I guess nothing would change your mind,” you give up, and a proud smile appears on his face. “The living room is yours then,” you give him an evil smile, your hand lands on his firm chest, patting it twice. “Have fun!”

When you step into the kitchen, a sigh of disappointment leaves your lips, despite your vain attempt to suppress it.

Hansol sits in the white plastic chair, mindlessly scrolling through whichever app is it’s feed. He looks up at you, but he next second his eyes are back on the screen.

Your body feels stiff, like you’re made of wood, but you force yourself to approach the counter. The desire to disappear is so strong that you find yourself not breathing at all – like if you make less noises, the more Hansol is unaware you’re in the same room with him.

You grab a handful of orange peels to throw in the trash can under the sink when you hear Hansol voice, “Why didn’t you throw out all of them?” You turn to the boy, cheeks already red, and anger is bubbling in your stomach. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he lets a hoarse laugh.

“I’m joking, jeez. No need to sulk.”

You don’t return his smile, instead turning away from him to take the leftovers, and say,

“It couldn’t fit in my hand.”

He coos at your words, and you feel stupid.

“Soonyoung was right. You’re an absolute doll.”

“Not impressed,” you roll your eyes, but you feel no confidence in your voice. You face Hansol again, a mischievous glint in his big eyes can be spotted even from across the kitchen. “Your eyes are red,” you notice. “Are you stoned?”

“Maybe so,” he yawns, stretching out in the chair that is about to crack under his weight at any minute. “I don’t mind you tucking me in, though. You seem to be a pro.”

“Well, don’t overdo it,” you say. “The scientists say weed makes people stupid.”

“And affects their memory,” he adds. “But it makes me copy.”

“With what?”

Hansol shrugs and his gaze falls to his knees. He radiates hesitation, and you gulp the pulse in your throat, afraid to hear the truth.

“With me being avoided by my own soulmate like I’m sorta of a plague? Sorta.”

A wave of pure heat that feels like a fever, a bad fever, runs through your body. The whole soulmate thing was supposed to be a blessing, but it feels like a curse. Without thinking, you pathetically mumble,

“I thought you don’t care.”

You really did. For the last few weeks you’ve been living in the bubble made of your own sorrows, disappointments, and self-pity, and the thought of what Hansol feels and thinks about it never crossed your mind.

“Whatever,” he says. “I got your point.”

Hansol doesn’t wait for the unspoken words that are stuck in the back of your throat, ringing in your ears over and over as you watch him leaving the kitchen. He stops at the doorframe with his hand in his dark locks – it’s so odd to see him not wearing a beanie – and slowly turns to you.

“Leave this shit to Soonyoung,” he says.

“Okay,” you mutter.

He calls your name, shooting the arrow of guilt right into your heart.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

When Mingyu returns to ask where he can find another bag for trash, you cling to the boy’s chest, and skipping all the questions on the tip of his tongue, Mingyu clasps his arms around you. His chin is snuggling upon your head and you feel pressure inside of the bubble reducing a little.

But a tremendous guilt envelops you with each minute.

Momo stares at your figure as you sit across her – your hair cascading down onto your hunched shoulders, your face is covered with your hands, and the girl only huffs.

“Should I expect some fake sobs?”

You spare a fiery glance at her, but she just waves you off in dismisal. Momo doesn’t even trying to hide her irritation with you – the first thing she asked you after you finally had decided to spill the whole situation to her was ‘Could you have taken any longer to tell me?” and you can’t blame her.

“Yah, leave these tricks for your future sweetheart Sollie. I’m not buying it.”

“He is not my future sweetheart,” you argue. “It doesn’t work!”

“Because you never gave it a chance,” she isn’t convinced, and her stern tone makes you consider the words more carefully.

“He hates me now!”

“First, you deserved it. No offense. Second, he seems like a crackhead, such people don’t hate other people, they just don’t care about them.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” you exclaim, and her face breaks into a triumphant smile. “What?”

“Look at you, already defending your soulmate,” she says in a saccharine voice. “Ask him out and fall in love. Choose life. Choose a loveseat coach.”

“Isn’t it from Trainspotting movie?” you question, narrowing your eyes.

“And what about it?” she huffs once again. “It doesn’t make me wrong. It always starts with a crush. Just let it happen.”

A crush, huh? A crush that makes your heart beats harder; that sends you floating in your daydreams; that makes you the happiest person in the whole universe, but at the same time has the power to make you sadder than the most distant and loneliest star from the Sun?

Just like the one you have on Mingyu?

Momo still doesn’t know how you feel about the tall, black-haired boy, and you aren’t ready to tell her the truth. Partly because you want to protect this thing from the outer world, make it special, make it a secret that can be kept by the two only, and, partly because you’ll face the wall of misunderstanding. You could fool around with the boys before, but now you’re certain with the one who is destined for you. And you can’t – you shouldn’t – seek for another lover. It’s wrong.

The ability to make all your problems yourself will never fail to amaze you.

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “If you’re so smart.”

“I could’ve been your mother, though. You should follow my every word.”

“Momo, we literally were born in the same decade,” you sigh, but the girl has no intention to follow any of your words.

[mingyyuu 17:13] it’s so cold today!! stay inside 🖤

[you 17:14] too late :// plans!!

[mingyyuu 17:16] any plans for tomorrow?

[you 17:16] not yet

[mingyyuu 17:17] now you have some!

The boy continues to type, but you have to put the phone in the back pocket of your jeans – you’re awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to the other at the doorstep, not able to say anything – even a small ‘hello’.

“Soonyoung’s at the dance practice,” Hansol breaks the silence.

“I know his schedule better than he does,” you can’t help but roll your eyes. “I came for your soul.”

Hansol raises his brows, his eyes never leave yours as he steps aside to let you in. The boy helps you with your jacket, and you mutter a small ‘thank you’, hoping he’ll take the initiative, even despite the fact it’s you who came to talk.

“How are you doin’?” maybe it’s a soulmate thing to read each other’s mind? You look at Hansol and you have a feeling that you’ll never be able to go through the guard around him and straight to his head. His expression is neutral, and you admit that he doesn’t even need to try look beautiful.

“Nothing much,” you response. “What ‘bout you?”

“Okay. Wanna drink something?”

“A pepsi please?”

“We only have a few cans of coke, do you wanna?”

You already feel strange of that crazy amount of questions for the beginning – the situation becomes more and more awkward that you’re able to feel the pressure of the air in the room. Your temples pulse a little, threating a headache.

“Nah, I’m fine then,” you say, taking a deep breath. “I came here to say I’m sorry and-”

“And?”

“Do you think we should be together?”

“It how it works,” he lets out a dry laugh. Hansol looks down to your face, his hand reaches out to stroke your shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

The grip on your temples is too tight to bear, and you let out a heavy pant.

“My head hurts,” you explain, squeezing your eyes shut – the light is too bright.

“You need to lie down,” Hansol says. “It’s probably because the temperature difference between inside and outside. I’ll bring painkillers to Soonyoung’s bedroom.”

You nod, heading off to the bedroom. What a great wat to talk - show up at someone’s doorstep just to say you have a headache. Great. Not bothering yourself with discarding your clothes, you collapse stomach-down onto the bed without removing the cover, your face is buried in the soft material.

“Shit, you’ll suffocate if you stay like this,” Hansol’s deep voice wafts on your ears. You slowly lean on your elbows to steal a glance at him. After placing the glass of water and the blister of painkillers at the night stand, he gets down on his haunches, his eyes at the same level as yours. You stay like this for some time, not saying a word, mesmerized by his face.

“What did you do before I came?” you ask out of sudden. Hansol seems to be taken aback with your question.

“Tried to make some music,” he gawks, blinking at you.

“Really?” you ask in a low voice.

“Mostly checked the mic with some ‘yeah’s’ and ‘yo’s’”, he admits, an amusing laugh escapes his mouth. “I’ll try to do something while you’re resting, good?”

You nod you head and smile at him. He gently squeezes your shoulder and stands up. Before he disappears out of the bedroom, you say,

“Do you have any siblings?”

He turns to you, leaning back against the wall.

“Yeah. I have a little sister. You?”

You shake your head no and he nods.

“But it was easy to guess you’re not the only child, though,” it’s difficult to see his face in the darkness, but your eyes never leave him.

“How so?”

“You offer a compromise when it's unnecessarily,” you sniggle. “A man of settled habits.”

You see his wide smile in the dark.

You force your eyes open and sit up in the bed, your hair disheveled and slightly damp at the back of your neck. Headache has gone, at least for now, but your throat feels dry. When you come to the kitchen, you see the note in Hansol’s infamous unsteady handwriting left on the counter:

you can find pepsi in the fridge!

You smile at the gesture and inside you sense warmth.

You knock at Hansol’s bedroom door twice and after the boy calls out for your entry, you slip through the door.

Hansol sits at the table, bobbing his head in time with the song that hums from the speakers. His eyes are glued to his laptop, the headphones rest above his ears.

“Does the work go smoothly?” you ask, sitting at the corner of his bed. He turns to face you; a soft smile is playing on his lips.

“Yeah, it’s okay. There are many things that I think I’m lacking in, but I work on them,” he says in a serious tone. “But I’ve finally finished the song that had been haunting me for weeks.”

“Oh, that’s great!” you beam at him.

“Your snoring from the next room inspired me,” he places his hand over his heart. “I’ll be forever grateful for that.”

You lightly kick his calf, and the boy laughs. Rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes, he draws his attention back to you.

“Feel better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. Nodding, Hansol notices your gaze focusing on the screen of his laptop. There’re the unknown for you tools placed on his table, except for the microphone, of course, and you’re wondering what kind of music he’s into.

“Wanna hear it?” he asks, once again showing his amazing ability to read your mind.

“Yes!” you hearty nod. “Want my headache to be back.”

Hansol rolls his eyes, muttering a small ‘sure’ under his breath, and places the mouse cursor over the play button. The speakers are small, but even despite it you sense the music vibrate through your body. The beat is harsh, his voice is piercing, and it feels like the most Hansol’s thing he could’ve ever done, but at the same time you’ve got an inkling that the tune and the lyrics were created by his mysterious twin.

“You really made this?” your eyes are wide and your hand clutches hold of his wrist.

“Yeah,” he hums nervously, bringing his free hand to rub at the back of his head.

“It’s good! I can’t believe you haven’t signed a ten-million dollars contract yet!”

“You heard just one song,” he smiles in a protest. “Thanks anyway.”

“I’m right, though,” you say, your hand leaving his as you smile at him. “You should be a star! I can’t say what I liked about it ‘cause I don’t know anything about music, but the whole thing is perfect!”

He looks up to you, your cheeks flushed with passion and your eyes glisten as candles burn bright, and it brings a proud smile on his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurts.

“You’re beautiful too,” your words are sincere, filled with pure appreciation you have for this melted chocolate eyed boy. The idea of you frightened of meeting him a few hours ago seems like a pure absurd right now – when the two of you sit that close to each other, you having a string of questions to ask him about his life, interests, hopes and dreams, and on your tongue the whole story of your life is tingling to be uttered at the same time.

“It was unexpected,” he chuckles. “Thanks again.”

“Thanks for the pepsi,” you return. “I thought you had only coke?”

“Um, I went to the convenience store across the street while you were asleep,” he says, his eyes are wandering on the wall. You can hardly take a breath.

“You shouldn’t have,” you say.

“It’s not a big deal,” he shrugs. Nodding, you slip off his bed and go toward the window. Leaning your forehead against the cool glass, you take a deep breath.

“Is Soonyoung still at the practice?” you ask, your voice is low.

“I guess,” Hansol perches at the windowsill. “I kinda lost track of time.”

You feel the heat his body radiates. Theoretically, you think, you find him somewhat sexy, really manly. His long scraggy neck, broad shoulders, a spectacular torso you can notice even under his oversized t-shirts, and athletic thighs. A month ago, your informant told you that Hansol barely shows up in the gym, and you wonder if the boy was gifted with capability of being perfect without even trying.

And still, he isn’t Mingyu, who makes you feel being in love.

You want to tell Mingyu the truth about your wrong destiny, your aching heart that can be healed with his smile only, and the feeling of your stomach filled with butterflies. You want him to hold your hand, pushing all the doubts and fears away, and make you his. His, despite the cruel joke The Universe played on you.

You think, you have a feeling, he would understand it, because he believes in strength of choice. Mingyu is in a constant state of moving forward, overcoming all obstacles he might face.

Would it be the first time when he stops?

You and Hansol both stay silent till the whole apartment echoes with Soonyoung’s ringing voice.

“Woah, I like the pictures!” Mingyu approves with a hum, adjusting something on his camera. “They’re perfect.”

“Because they’re pictures of me or because it’s you who took them?” you smile, a playful glint in your eyes as you nudge him.

“Let me think,” the boy stops in his tracks, his brows furrow in a fake manner, indicating he is absorbed in his thoughts. “Both.”

“Wow,” you play along, shaking your head and pressing your lips together. “Groundbreaking.”

He giggles and slides his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Wish I could tickle you right now, bit your jacket doesn’t give a chance.”

You shove off his hand and see a small pout forming on his plush lips.

“It’s my protection from pervs like you, Mingyu,” you smile innocently, casting sheeps eyes on him.

“Pervs don’t ask for a permission,” he opposes matter-of-factly. You raise your brows at him in question, and it doesn’t take long for him to explain. “Let me kiss you.”

You raise your head at Mingyu to see him smiling down at you with shining eyes, his cheeks are glowing from the frosty air.

“Go ahead,” you smile, and he leans down and kiss you. His lips are warm and sweet, and you never expect to feel care through a kiss as his mouth is covering yours. His hand cups your cheek while the other is placed tightly at the base of your neck. You trace your tongue against his lower lip, his tongue is eager to meet yours. You tease the inside of his mouth, and Mingyu lets out a small groan, which is enough to bring you to senses, and you break the kiss.

“We’re outside, Guy,” you softly remind him, your grip at his forearms is loosen.

“And so?” he whines, tugging at your sleeves to keep you body close to him.

“And we’re late,” you try to reason, but frankly speaking, you better would have stayed in the previous position you shared with Mingyu than going anywhere. “Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner we leave.”

The idea of karaoke night seemed promising, to say at least, but with Seungkwan occupying the microphone and Seokmin taking the guise of being his bodyguard, preventing any attempt of borrowing the tool out of his hands, ebullience faded into despair.

Jun is scrolling through his phone, and you find it okay; Soonyoung is busying himself with fourth bowl of ramen in a row, and it begins to worry you; Jihoon is yawning in thirsty eight second intervals, and the fact of you really counting begins to worry you; Mingyu’s playing with your hands, his head rests against your shoulder, you find it normal too.

You toy with his dark hair and lower yourself to whisper in his ear.

“Take me out.”

“Your wish is my command,” Mingyu smiles with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He straightens up off the sofa and extends his hand to you. You stretch out your own hand and place it in Mingyu’s warm palm.

After wrapping everyone, except for Seungkwan who is too absorbed in the singing and waves the two of you off in dismissal, for a goodbye hug, you go downstairs to put the clothes on.

“Stop staring,” you say to Mingyu, catching his gaze in the mirror, a smile parts your lips. You pull up the hood of your jacket and turn to the boy.

“Can’t help it,” he admits, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb is stroking your cheek gently, and he leans to steal a kiss from your lips.

“Oh, shit,” Seungkwan says, puckering his face into a frown. “Came to say my goodbye, but this,” he gestures at the two of you.

“Grow up,” Mingyu shrugs his shoulders. Seungkwan’s glare bores a hole right through your head, and you can only silently pray for him to not allow his anger upstage his reason.

“Seungkwan, please,” you say. “Let’s talk about it later.”

“Sure,” the younger boy rolls his eyes. “It’s not me who you should talk to, though.”

“What’s the problem?” Mingyu groans in frustration.

“I don’t know. What’s your problem?” Seungkwan scoffs, shifting his gaze from Mingyu to you and back to Mingyu again.

“It’s none of your business,” you snap. “I’m not in the mood for one of your soap operas.”

You storm out of the building, your blood is boiling with the mixture of anger, fear, and realization of all things you used to have fell to pieces in a matter of seconds.

“Hey, wait,” Mingyu grabs your hand, and you stop, too afraid to look at him. “What’s the matter?”

You’re struck by an incredible sense of fear, of confusion, of vulnerability, but you finally have to face the reality.

“The problem is,” you sigh. “Hansol is my soulmate.”

“Don’t cry,” Soonyoung tries to conciliate you, his hand is rubbing against your back, and he tightens the embrace. “I’m here for you.”

At this point, you even hate yourself for the damp spot on his sweatshirt made with your tears. You want to concentrate on Soonyoung’s words uttered in a small voice, almost whispering, but as you think about Mingyu, about how on his face thoughts and feelings seemed connate – his pained stare said everything, – standing in front of you, you feel a sharp pain in your heart.

“Do you despise me?” your voice sounds desperate.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t ask such a shitty question to my best friend,” he says. “You’re the best.”

You laugh bitterly. Soonyoung treats you too nicely – without asking why you’d been keeping so many secrets from him till this night, rebuking Seungkwan for standing guard over Hansol’s feelings, promising Mingyu will pay dearly in the nearest future for his superior sense of morality or whatever.

“What about Hansol?” you ask him, your eyes still are full of tears and pain, but you force a small smile.

“Will kick him out,” his voice is firm, and you sink your face into the soft material of his cloth, suppressing a bigger smile that threats to appear on your lips.

“Soonyoung, I’ve made four enemies this year, and it’s only the end of February,” your voice is muffled as you keep pressing your face onto the boy’s chest. “Momo, Mingyu, Hansol, Seungkwan – all of them hate me for being stupid, for not telling the truth, for being a bitch, for-”

“Shh. It’s their problem, not yours. It’s them who won’t survive ‘cause they made enemies of us. Listen to me,” he calls your name, making a passionate appeal. “We’re undefeatable, you and me.”

You lift your head at him, finding him keeping his eyes on the ceiling in a dramatic way, and you snicker. His lips twist into a broad smile, and he looks at you.

“They don’t hate you,” he says. “Life is complicating, so are we. They know about it.”

You meet Mingyu at the library. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and he’s surprisingly quiet.

“Seungkwan said Hansol fell for you only after Soonyoung’s countless ramblings about you. He indeed stared at your pics, I suppose.”

He’s in pain.

You feel empty inside; a terrible anguish seizes your heart.

“Do you feel the same about him?” an involuntary question slips off his tongue.

You want to say it’s him, it’s only him who made you fall, who made you feel at ease, who made you want to give and not just to take, but you can’t.

He waits for a response you’ll never be able to come up with.

This night you cry yourself to sleep.

Weeks go by.

The three of you – you, Hansol, and Soonyoung – glue your eyes to the television set placed at the wall of the boys’ living-room. Watching different tv series with them somehow has turned into therapy sessions – despite experiencing triggers at almost everything that is shown, you feel you’re not alone. The two of them act like nothing happened, and all of you are ready to meet your soulmates someday.

But, if nothing happened, why Mingyu’s name is forbidden from saying out loud because it would fill you with pain?

“You have popcorn crumbs on your shirt,” you notice, pointing at Soonyoung with the remote in your hand.

“I preferred watching tv to reading books when i was younger,” the boy says, dusting the crumbs off his torso and lap.

“And it shows,” you tease. Soonyoung gives you a light pinch on the side and straightens up with a huff.

“I’m going to bed,” he announces. “The bathroom is occupied for the next thirty minutes.”

Hansol nods and bids Soonyoung goodnight as you blow him a kiss – his laughter never fails to boost your mood.

“Resuming?” you ask Hansol. “I’m not sleepy.”

“Neither am I.”

It’s completely dark apart from the television’s dim yellow glow. Somehow, you find yourself being distracted by almost everything – the pattern of the wooden floor, the material of the couch, the streetlamp right outside the window, the plant that is going to die soon due to Soonyoung and Hansol’s lack of care.

Hansol.

His eyes flicker in your direction, catching you staring at him. You don’t look away.

“Am I more interesting than the show?” he asks, not expecting you reply with a quiet ‘yes’. A blush coloring his cheeks can be spotted even in the poorly illuminated room.

“You’re so shy sometimes,” you remark in a low voice. “You didn’t seem so when I first met you.”

“I felt some courage out of nothing,” he shakes his head, his long and slender fingers tapping his knees. “When I saw you.”

You sigh. How the Universe can be broken? Maybe you’re broken?

“I read that if you’re dealing with schizophrenia your emotions are mixed up – you feel something you shouldn’t have felt and express something you don’t feel.”

“Scientific facts again, huh? You’re referring to me?” he grins.

“To myself, I guess,” there is no smile at your features as you sigh. “Or maybe it’s – I don’t know, to be honest.”

“Hey, I know its not gonna work but I’ll say it anyway,” he reaches out his hand to yours and gently squeezes it. “Don’t think shit about yourself. Don’t say shit,” he pauses. “When the words appeared I was surprised, no shit. But as I find out more and more things about you, all of it start to make sense. I don’t want anyone’s words but yours on me. That’s it. That’s the thing I feel.”

He’s beautiful, you think, very beautiful.

Your eyes wander over his face and finally stop at his lips. The contour of his mouth is perfect – Hansol’s lips aren’t plump, but neither are thin – just perfect – and the little bruise on his lower lip makes you unable to brush your overwhelming desire to have a lick over this exact spot. You hesitate – and even now the image of Mingyu settles on you.

But when you feel Hansol’s lips on yours, you let him in. He claims your mouth passionately, and you slide your hands into his hair, pulling on his locks, and he groans in your mouth. When you pull back for a moment, your eyes flooded with haze, Hansol traces his thumb over your slick with his spit lips, sending a shiver down your spine. He leans onto you again, his lips ghosting over yours, the redolent scent of his musky cologne makes your head even more dizzy.

“I want you,” he whispers into your lips, his voice is cracking.

“You can have me,” you breathe out, closing your eyes as his lips decorate your neck in sloppy kisses.

You can have me, but can you have my heart?

The question finds lodgment in your mind.

You might lose the thing you love the most, but life goes on… and here we stand.

You’ve discovered you’re an excellent pretender.

Pretend you think nothing of going without sleep for several nights and then attend your classes. Pretend you’re not tired. Pretend you like the tasteless dish in the restaurant Momo brought you to. Pretend it’s not painful to be in the same room with Mingyu. Pretend you love Hansol back.

“My legs are killing me,” Seungkwan whines. “I just don’t know how much more of it I can take.”

Same, you think, fucking same.

“Wait a little more and I’ll buy you a hotdog,” Mingyu promises, looking over his shoulder to see you wearily stagger behind them. The combination of the three of you is weird, you find, but life goes on, isn’t it?

It’s May, and the three is you are stuck in Ikea’s mazes – Mingyu needs to buy some new furniture – this is what brings him to the mall, but also Mingyu needs someone to keep him company – and this is what brings you and Seungkwan to the same place. Mingyu calls your name, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows in a question.

“You good? How ‘bout a few hotdogs after?”

“And milkshakes,” Seungkwan adds.

“Just an ice cream please,” you mumble, and he nods. Sometimes it’s so awkward – to be around him. Sometimes it’s natural. But mostly it’s painful.

Standing in the parking lot, waiting for Mingyu and Seungkwan while they’re stuffing the things Mingyu bought into the trunk of his car, you dumbly watch the ice cream steadily dripping down your hand.

Damn.

No ice cream can help you feel good even a bit.

You enter Hansol’s bedroom and find him at the wooden floor, lying on his back, eyes closed. With his arms and legs splayed out, he reminds you a giant starfish.

“Are you even breathing?” you chuckle, bending over him.

“I am,” Hansol smiles, his eyes stay closed, and he taps slightly on his chest. “C’mere.”

You oblige, your head nestle against his chest, and you hear his steady heartbeat. He wraps his left arm around you and inhales deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes out of sudden, and you turn your head to look at him. “The first words were stupid, and you’ll have them for forever.”

“Suit us very well,” you poke, and he sniffs, reaching out to slightly pinch your cheek. “Hey! Stop!”

Hansol laughs, squeezing you tighter, and the sound of his slow and steady breathing lulls you to sleep. Your gaze is directed at the ceiling as you try to fight against sleep. “You’re so composed, but also so goofy, but also so delicate,” you sigh, thinking out loud as your fingertips trace up and down the soft skin of his wrist. Hansol’s warm. “But the first words were wacky,” you chuckle. “What’ve done to deserve them?”

“It was Russian roulette, baby,” he hums, and you can hear him smiling.

You fall asleep like that. You dream about buying the beige sofa you saw in Ikea and Mingyu’s endless attempts to change your mind – the green one is a way better, he insists. The green one would suit the interior perfectly, you agree with him, but the beige one is so classy, and maybe even a little obligatory? Every apartment should have one, but Mingyu only shakes his head in frustration.

“I'm not sure you’re one hundred percent positive about what you’re convincing me of,” he purses his lips.

Dreams that are hardly can be distinguish from reality are exhausting. You wish there was a way to put this worry to bed once and for all.

“Okay, so the concept of your birthday party is dubstep,” you verify. “And the main dish excepted for a barbeque duck is an ice cream cake?”

“I scream, you scream, gimme that ice cream,” Soonyoung’s enjoyment is evidenced by his wide smile. You playfully roll your eyes, not really hiding the excitement you share with him.

“Why do I feel that we’re constantly hanging out at birthday parties?” Hansol asks, peering at his phone screen, not bothering to straighten his head from its bending position.

“Because our friend group is too huge for people our age,” you make a point.

“It’s so expensive to have a lot of friends,” Soonyoung complains, but when he meets your questionable gaze, he adds. “But for you, my bestie, money’s no object.”

“Good to know,” you laugh, your fingers leisurely run above the rim of the empty cup of matcha latte. “I’m more upset about my dear boyfriend didn’t show any interest in volunteering at preps for the party.”

Hansol smiles, tapping on his phone, his eyes are anchored on the screen, and you narrow your expression at him, shaking your head in a scolding manner.

“And now he pretends he doesn’t hear me,” you say. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Hansol’s face brightens and broadens out into a beaming smile, and the sound of Soonyoung’s giggles fills the air.

“I’ll ask Seokmin to help you,” the older boy suggests, and you raise your eyebrow at him.

“I know you’re saying it for the best of reasons, but Seokmin rather is a distraction than a help,” you debate, and Soonyoung raises his small hands in surrender, his eyes becoming crescent-shaped due to his laugh.

“Okay, I’ll send backup,” he promises. “At the end of the day, Mingyu’s good at cooking and cleaning.”

It would’ve been hard for him not to realize he put his foot in his mouth mentioning Mingyu as the mood tensely shifts. You freeze, alike Hansol, his thumb is hovering over the phone screen for seconds. Soonyoung offers you an apologetic smile, and you smile at the boy back, reassuring him it’s okay – he really did nothing wrong. Hansol’s avoiding your questioning gaze, hiding his eyes behind his curly bangs, and you gently brush a section of his hair from his face, wanting to see him clearly.

“Are you jealous, Sollie?” you try to joke, a soft smile playing on your lips, your hand placed on his cheek. As he raises his eyes at you, nerves are evident in them, your heart sinks, and you feel breathless. He won’t ask you if he should be, he won’t make any scenes – but he may shut himself off, locking his feelings deep inside, and you fear it the most. You don’t mean to hurt him, but you’re still providing him a good amount of pain – he isn’t an idiot who can’t figure out that Mingyu’s never really left your heart.

“No,” he simply says. “I’ll help you with everything.”

“You’re a bigger distraction than Seokmin for me, but how can I say no to my sweet boyfriend?” you take his offer, your thumb is stroking his cheek, and the action soothes away the tension he has. Hansol smiles gently at you, and for a second, you’re wondering if he is as good at pretending as you are.

“How did you manage to rent this beach house?” Soonyoung asks in a pure awe. “Such places are always booked!”

“Nothing’s impossible when you love your friend,” you muse. “Besides, thank Hansol – he used his “music industry contacts” to make you happy.”

“Hey, you insult me using air quotes around ‘music industry contacts’,” Hansol slides his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him, and places a quick peck on the tip of your nose. You stab him in the chest with your index finger, and he fakes a gasp.

“Eavesdropping?” you ask.

“Learning a lot about me,” he grins and draws his attention to the birthday boy. “Like the party?”

“No shit,” Soonyoung laughs. “I’ll like it better if you dance with me,” he says your name, his eyes sparkle brighter than colorful lights blasting through the house.

“Anything for a five stars rate.”

You’re out of breath, the clothes stick to your covered in sweat body, and you wince.

“I’m done,” you announce to Soonyoung, his batteries fully charged as he continues his active dance.

“Get some fresh air and come back!” he yells over the music, and you nod. Crossing the room to the back porch, you spot Hansol in the corner, talking to Joshua and showing the older boy something on his phone screen. Unnoticed, you go directly to the shore until the music of the party drowns in the sound waves, and inhale warm salty air. The water seems so tempting, calling you to step into the waves, their rhythm is hypnotizing you, and you kick your shoes off, perfectly understand the night water is too cold for swimming.

A familiar voice stops you, calling your name. You turn around, greeted with Mingyu’s tall figure, shining like a bronze statue, his tanned skin sheens magical when graced by the evening sun.

“Why do you always tend to sneak out?” he asks, once he made it up to you, a warm smile already crept onto his mouth as he saw you.

“I don’t know, maybe I just like being in crowds,” you shrug your shoulders – it’s true. You really don’t know the answer. He moves closer to you, and you finally spot a small bouquet in his hand. His eyes follow yours, and he chuckles.

“It’s for you,” he shyly passes you the flowers, his teeth press into his bottom lips. “I passed by those wildflowers on my way here and picked them for you.”

“It’s not my birthday,” you laugh. “But thank you, I love it,” you say, nuzzling your nose against the tender petals. You look up at the boy and lock your eyes with his, a tickling feeling spreading in your chest. The waves are lapping on the peaceful and quiet shore, but you feel electricity surging through your body. You stand on your tiptoes and place a delicate kiss on his soft cheek, the action is innocent, but for Mingyu it’s like hearing a starting whistle.

“You’re still in my thoughts,” he breathes. “Still here,” he reaches over to grab your hand and place it over his chest, and through your fingertips you’re able to feel his rapid heart. Tears are starting to form at the rim of your eyes, and your vision becomes blurred. Your fingers crawl into the flowers he gave you, pressing against the vulnerable stems. “It’s egoistic, I know, you’re dating my friend, your soulmate, but why does it feel like you’re mine?”

“I don’t know,” you sob. The next second you find yourself against his firm chest and you inhale his scent that feels like home. Not a place where you live, but home. He plants a kiss to the crown of your head and puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Look at me,” the golden boy suddenly says. “Please.”

You look up at him and see his eyes briefly dropping to your lips, and despite yourself you feel that familiar tingling in your gut, wanting him to kiss you. He reads you like an open book and he is kissing you, his lips softly press against yours, a tender flavor on your tongue.

“Mingyu,” you whisper in a small voice, pulling out from him. “I can’t. I can’t do this to Hansol.”

The boy looks at you with a pained expression, and in his eyes you can see that he wishes he didn’t have a heart at all.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he mutters, and you nod your head, your heart is swelling at the nickname.

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

You lock yourself up in the bathroom, hoping no one saw your state while you were hurrying upstairs. Suddenly, someone tries the handle, but it jingles with no success.

“It’s occupied!” you try your best to sound calm, but your voice is trembling.

“It’s me,” Hansol’s muffled voice leaks through the door. “Let me in.”

You turn the lock and face Hansol, your eyes are all red and watery from crying. The boy locks the door behind him and turns to face you, his piercing eyes burn right into your soul.

“You love him,” he says, too delicate to torture you with questions, and you feel even worse – if it’s possible – paralyzed with fear and regrets, guilt eating you inside out, and you swallow the lump in your throat. You let out a wet sob, not being able to look into his sad eyes.

You broke his heart.

“I’m sorry, Sol,” you say, feeling powerless, loss for words to say to him, to explain yourself, to apologize. “I don’t know what should I do. I don’t know what should we do.”

“If he makes you happier than I could,” he looks above your head. “I’ll accept it someday.”

“You don’t deserve this,” you say, feeling so stupid, only wishing that the floor would open up and swallow you.

“Maybe soulmates aren’t bond only by romantic shit,” his deep voice comes to you through the mist. You don’t ask him to give you a chance, don’t change his mind – maybe this painful reveal of the truth will make your heart feel a little bit lighter one day, even if right now you’re sure this is never going to happen.

You don’t complain and do not want pity from anyone – you’re sick and tired of Soonyoung tiptoeing around you, trying to keep you from collapsing; of the silent treatment Seungkwan gives you, scornful looks he spares you every single time you see him get you to another level of anger; of a constant scratching sense of guilt you’ve been racked with since your break-up with Hansol, but somehow he never blames you even if he should; of Momo dragging you to the shop malls and making you keep shopping until you cheer up.

Of you can’t getting up the nerve to answer any of Mingyu’s calls, too afraid of something you can’t even describe.

Momo’s straight face catches you off guard, and you only gasp,

“He what?! No, no, no,” you shake your head in disbelief. “You’re making this up.”

“What for?” the girl rolls her eyes back deep into their sockets. “Mingyu invited you to his picnic party or whatever through me cause you’re too deaf to pick up your phone, nothing special.”

“Will you come with me?” your eyes meet hers in the bathroom mirror, your expression makes Momo give you her infamous crinkly-eyed smile.

“He didn’t ask me to come – only you,” she purrs, taking her lip gloss out of the small bag. “He’s so fucking in love with you, you little witch.”

“I-” you stutter, the crimson red blush spreads across your cheeks, and Momo laughs and gives you a playful shove.

“Don’t you dare to say no,” she warns. “You’ll deal with me.”

“What would I do without you, Momo?” you smile at her. Even if you asked playfully, you really mean it – and the warmth in your chest proves it.

Mingyu seems nervous as he clumsy steps into your apartment, his chest is tensed with the breath he holds. The boy is dressed in a loose white t-shirt and high-wasted velvety pants, and you sigh in relief – the picnic party - as Momo called it - obviously wasn’t planned as something fancy.

“Thanks for picking me up,” you smile.

“Thanks for coming. Means a world,” he says, poking his cheek with his tongue, a shy smile follows his words. You missed him. Missed everything about him – the small giggles he lets while talking with that slight lisp to you, the shake of his head when he can’t understand something, the pout appearing on his plump lips when he realizes the item he wanted to buy is out of stock, the bright smile beaming on his face while he spills out his ideas for photography, the warmth of his palm holding yours in the pocket of his woolen coat.

“Who else is gonna be there?” you ask during your drive to the beach – Mingyu found the place perfect for a picnic, especially in the hot summer.

“Um,” he hesitates for a moment, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you. “It’s just the two of us.”

“Oh,” you breath. “I see. Momo didn’t tell me.”

“Blame yourself for leaving me on read,” he grins obnoxiously and you roll your eyes defensively. “Now you’re stuck with me. I forgot to mention one thing, though.”

“Which one?” you rake your eyes over him, admiring how the sun’s rays paint his skin in a golden glitter. “It’s a date.”

You dig your toes into the cool sand, glancing into the evening sky. Mingyu follows your eyeline.

“You can’t see the stars for reflected light from the city,” you notice. “But here we have a chance.”

“No way,” Mingyu protests. “And you know why?”

“Why so?” you turn your face to him, a big smile spread on his lips.

“All Seoul’s stars are in your eyes,” he is smiling so wide that his cheeks must have hurt and he pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around you, tugging you into his lap.

“Shut up,” you laugh, smacking him on the chest, your fingers touching the soft fabric of his shirt. Mingyu’s lips are ghosting over your cheek for a moment before he speaks again,

“But I have lots of things to say,” Mingyu murmurs, biting softly at your earlobe, and a very familiar feeling creeps up into the pit of your stomach.

“Like what?”

“Like, let’s swim,” he takes you aback with the suggestion and you blink at him dumbly. “I didn’t bring my swimsuit with me,” you say.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs. “We’re alone here. No one’ll see.”

You push up from his body and meet his eyes glossy with playfulness and challenge, and you nod at his words. Mingyu grinning at you mischievously, while he removes his clothes – his shirt and pants find their place at the sand – as you see each piece of his skin revealing itself. You inhale deeply, and he leans his head closer to yours, the warm palms rubbing up and down your arms.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, and you’re surprised he can tell this just from your body language, and it makes your heart flutter, pounding even faster against your ribcage. His words encourage you, and he silently watches you removing your dress, the only pieces of clothing on your skin are your bra and panties. Mingyu gently squeezes your hand, his thumb softly strokes back and forth over your knuckles. “Catch me.”

And within a couple of seconds, he is already pushing into the water, everything below his waist out of sight. You slowly step onto the sparkling waves, a lazy smile playing on your lips, as you see Mingyu splashing over to you with a childish pout on his face.

“You’re supposed to catch me, but you don’t even try,” he whines and steps closer to you, pressing his hands to either sides of your neck, his thumb rubbing the hollow of your throat. He looks dreamlike with his skin stick from the water, making him glisten in the soft evening light.

“It’s not the only thing I didn’t do what I was supposed to do. I was born to live without you, remember?” you whisper against his wet lips as he leans over you.

“It doesn’t matter,” he hums, letting his fingers brush against the words inked on your side. “I don’t need to be told who I love.”

You’d been feeling like you were drowning for too long, drowning in the cool water of sorrows, doubts, and self-destruction for too long, but only now you can breathe -

“You love me?” you say in a quiet voice, almost as if it was a secret, and the soft look on his face makes your heart skip a beat, overflowing with love and affection.

“I do. So I ask you to stay with me,” he pleads. Not just for tonight, not for tomorrow morning, but-

“Take me home.”

Rattling keys, the sound of giggles stopped with the kisses, Mingyu’s hot mouth on your pulse point, your hands tugging at his black silk locks, and the heavy weight of the wall meets your back.

“Right in the corridor?” you hum, panting into his ear. “Where is your decency, Kim Mingyu? Not bringing your lady to the bedroom is-” Mingyu doesn’t let you finish, forcing his leg between yours. He is grinning at you with his bottom lip between his teeth as he guides your hips into motion against his thigh, satisfied with the garbled moan ripped from your throat. Bringing his lips to the side of your neck again, Mingyu plants wet kisses on the soft skin. He licks your ear, gently tugging the lobe between his teeth. When the boy releases the tender flesh, he hisses,

“This… you made me forget about my good manners,” Mingyu drawls and attaches his lips to your throat. His voice is sweet, but the material of his pants is rough and the combination drives you crazy, whimpering into the air between you, your clit aching.

“Please,” you whine, grinding yourself harder against him.

Suddenly, Mingyu smiles, brightly and happy, before his lips press into yours, his tongue mapping your mouth. The boy lifts you up and it gives you an opportunity to kiss his neck in return, biting red marks into his tanned skin. Then, ever so carefully, Mingyu places you on the soft surface of the bed, kissing you passionately, but slower, trying to find out what you like the most.

“Can I take your clothes off, please?” he whispers in your mouth and you moan, your hands gripping into his biceps.

“Good manners are back,” you coo. “Go ahead.”

Mingyu helps you to sit up, undoing the upper buttons of your summer dress, kissing the skin it exposes, and finally pulling it over your head.

“Don’t forget to take the rest off too,” you breathe, and his lips stretch into a smile. His arms twist behind your back and then he is sliding the fabric down your arms and tossing it away.

“Do you want me to touch you, princess?” Mingyu murmurs, the tip of his nose traces the side of your neck as his fingers are ghosting over the wetness of your panties.

“Like you don’t know the answer already,” you hiss and he chuckles, his hands move to palm your breasts. You bite your lower lip when he rolls your nipple between his fingers before slowly circling it, a blush slowly creeps down your neck. His mouth finally covers your nipple as his warm palms are parting your thighs, his fingers firmly pressed against the skin. Without being told, you rise your hips to help him remove your soaked panties.

Mingyu sits back on his haunches and marvel at your spread thighs and the pretty wet curves, and your legs separate to make room for him beyond your control.

“You’re so pretty,” he admires, his eyes – glassy with desire and adoration – don’t leave your face. His palm slides up from your hip over your stomach and further still, gently cupping your breast.

“Gyu,” you plea, but before you can even think about the words, Mingyu tosses his shirt somewhere behind his back, already yanked his slightly ruined with your wetness pants and the underwear to the floor.

Then, he is putting his fore and middle fingers into his mouth, coating them in saliva before slowly bringing them to your pussy, the pads of his fingers ghosting over your slit. You moan and he takes it as an invitation, drawing a circle around the hood of your clit. Craving for more, you shamelessly grind your hips into his palm, your fingers grasping at the sheets.

“Baby, I want to taste you so bad,” Mingyu purrs, thrusting his fingers into your pussy down to the knuckles. You moan at the sensation of his fingertips dragging against your pulsing walls, and he increases the pace of his digits inside of you. “You smell so good.”

His words only sending you near delirious. But his tongue feels even better.

Mingyu runs the flat of his tongue up to your clit, humming happily at the moan escaped through your red and swollen lips, your fingers tangled in his hair. His grip on your thighs is firm, screaming lust in big neon letters. He sucks on your clit, focusing his hot mouth on the swollen bundle of nerves, as he is pulling and pushing his fingers through your entrance.

The boy groans deeply, nuzzling his pretty face deeper into your core. The delightful pleasure clings to your stomach, swells at you abdomen. Your eyes screw shut and your chest heaves, the back arching off the bed with a high-pitched cry. Mingyu is leaning over your, adjusting his body on his elbows supporting him either side of your body. His breath is tickling the skin of your neck and you giggle, your hand lazily draws some patterns onto his back. The boy silently observes your features while you reach down to his cock, lubricating it with his pre-cum. Mingyu groans, but you swallow the sound with your mouth, your tongue catching on flesh of his mouth that tastes like you. He is desperately grinding against your stomach, the tip of his dick leaving a wet trail over your skin.

“I love you,” he says against your lips and, slowly and carefully, positions the reddened head to your entrance. You wrap your legs around him, heels pressing into the ample swells of his ass as Mingyu buries himself deep inside you. He presses his teeth on your collarbone as he hitting your sweet spot with every single one of his delicious thrusts.

Mingyu is here – his arms caging your face, his mouth never leaves yours, and his chest is pressed tight against yours – Mingyu is here and you love each other.

He rolls his hips against you, sinking his cock into your heat, his fingers toying with your sensitive clit. Suddenly, he speeds up, pulling an extremely loud moan from you. Feeling you clench around him, Mingyu groans and lowers himself to suck on your nipple, muffling the sounds he makes against your skin.

“Let it go,” he pants out and you oblige, a gasp tumbles from your lips as your fingers curling in his hair. Your walls spasm around his cock, enveloping it with your release. He thrusts in you, his cock twitching inside of you before he lets out a drawn moan. He stills in you as his cock milking your pussy, panting loudly. He opens his dark eyes and his face softens for you as he places a gentle kiss on the side of your jaw.

“We weren’t meant for each other,” you whisper, your hand playing with his damp locks. “But I love you more than anything.”

“We are meant for each other,” Mingyu is persistent. “Since our first meeting.”

“Okay,” you give in.

“I win,” his smile is radiant in the night, and his eyes hold the whole universe in them.

You never thought of you as a rule breaker. No one did.

With each day Mingyu helps you realize you shape the universe you live in.

And you ask him to make your nose look smaller at the portrait of you he have been painting for two weeks already.

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