#LITERALLY MY DREAM CAREERS ALL AT ONCE

[girlscience]

you ever want to go back in time and beat the shit out of yourself??

[zorobff]

i bet on losing dogs. (opla!zoro x reader)

synopsis: zoro is defeated by mihawk and therefore unable to claim the title of the world’s greatest swordsman. you just want him to know that he’s still the greatest to you.

warnings: mentions of blood, some direct dialogue from opla, not much romance i literally just wanted someone to tell zoro he’s enough bc he deserves it <3

a/n: idk if this is any good i just wanted an excuse to write and one piece has been my fixation for like 2 months now so :P

you can’t move.

it seems as if every bone in your body is frozen in place despite your brain telling you to do something — anything. you stand there, eyes helplessly locked onto zoro’s weak and defeated body. your heart is racing and you’re unable to stop your mind from doing the same. after all, there was a certain unease that came with seeing someone like roronoa zoro be conquered. his dream of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman had been crushed within minutes. knowing zoro, that thought would be tougher to overcome than any physical wound.

you want to run to him. to be with him.

luffy beats you to it.

“zoro!” he shouts with such pain that you wonder if he’s somehow hurting more than the swordsman is.

the sight of your captain sprinting across the deck of the baratie manages to push you to action. the two of you rush to zoro’s side, trying and failing to look anywhere but the bright red gash across his torso. it’s even worse up close. with every heave of his chest, more blood oozes out.

the cut is impossibly deep and yet, you can’t help but feel grateful. you’d seen the size of mihawk’s sword. the thing could’ve split zoro in half with the flick of a wrist. just the thought of that sends a new wave of shivers down your spine. you thank every higher power that mihawk was feeling generous enough to spare your friend’s life.

“zoro?” you attempt to say his name calmly. “zoro, please talk to us.”

his eyelashes flutter as he attempts to keep conscious. you see the subtle wincing in his face, the clenching of his jaw. for a second you wish he would have passed out, at least then he wouldn’t have to endure all this agony. even though this was surely the worst hit anyone had landed on him during his extensive career, you could tell that wasn’t the hardest part for him.

his eyes stay glued to the skies, refusing to even acknowledge you or luffy. his irises gloss over and tears well up on his waterline. there could only be one thing on his mind, the one thing you knew he was truly passionate about; his promise. was he afraid he had let down that nameless person he always spoke of? that he had failed as a swordsman?

for some reason, you want to cry with him.

“you did good,” you whisper without a second thought. “just stay awake, okay?”

luffy nods in agreement, hand coming to grip zoro’s shoulder so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“monkey d. luffy,” calls mihawk, shifting everyone’s attention back to him. “what is your goal?”

your captain nearly growls. “i’m going to be the king of the pirates.”

luffy’s response could seem rehearsed. mechanical, even. but the truth is he just meant it that much. his conviction was unmatched in every possible way.

“king of the pirates, eh?” repeats mihawk. there’s a hint of amusement in his tone. however, he wasn’t mocking luffy, as many people tend to do when they hear of his dream. “that is a much more treacherous path than defeating even me.”

luffy whips around to fix mihawk with a stern glare. “i don’t care. it’s what i’m going to do.”

“maybe you will at that,” muses the bearded swordsman. “this world could use a few more wild cards.”

their odd exchange ends there, leaving an unnerving silence. the sound of your choked back sobs getting caught in your throat and waves splashing against the deck is all there is for a moment.

“why the tears, girl?” mihawk inquires.

you can’t bear to look at him, much less respond. not after what he’d done to zoro. your hands that once rested reassuringly on your crewmate’s stomach now ball into fists. how could he behave so nonchalantly when he had injured zoro within an inch of his life?

“seems like you aren’t as plucky as the rest of your crew, hm?” mihawk comments when his question is met with silence.

hot tears of frustration roll down your cheeks. “get lost. you’ve done enough damage, haven’t you?”

“that would be incorrect. i was tasked with retrieving your captain for the marines. as you can see, i have yet to do that.”

“i couldn’t care less about what you came here for,” you tell him between gritted teeth. “how do you have the nerve to stand there and talk down to us after what you did to him?”

mihawk’s head tilts to the side as he observes you. pensively, he murmurs, “you care for him.”

“of course we care for him, he’s our crewmate!” luffy shouts in response, clearly missing the true meaning behind the words.

on the other hand, you opt to stay silent, slightly embarrassed about how quickly mihawk was able to catch on to you. were your feelings really that easy to see through? almost as if confirming your concern, mihawk coughs out a dry chuckle before his face falls stoic once more.

“look after him.” his gaze lingers on you when he says that. “it is too soon for him to die. roronoa zoro, grow strong and come find me. i’ll be waiting.”

with that, mihawk makes his exit. once the coast is clear, usopp and nami finally come scurrying over. the marksman kneels down on zoro’s left while the latter stays standing, almost too afraid to get close.

“he’s losing so much blood,” usopp notes, voice unsteady.

luffy is quick to shut down the true implication behind those words. “he’s going to be okay.”

a strangled groan escapes the green-haired swordsman in question. the four of you freeze. the moment feels eerily similar to when you watched him collapse after mihawk had struck him down. for the second time in a day, zoro has all of you holding your breath in anticipation.

“if i—” he swallows hard, eyes still shiny and looking upward. “—fail to become the world’s greatest swordsman... you’ll be disappointed. right?”

luffy’s gaze softens. “you could never fail me.”

however, your captain’s sincere words don’t seem to be enough. zoro finally rips his gaze away from the clouds, head lolling to the side to face you instead. those wide eyes of his always held so much intensity, so much emotion. now is no different as he meets your stare, seemingly in search of your reassurance as well.

it wasn’t that you were unsure of what to say but how to say it. you didn’t trust yourself to speak your mind and say what you truly thought of zoro. the last thing you needed was your feelings for him slipping out at a time like this. you decide to play it safe and just nod. “you know i feel the same way. we all do.”

“i need… to hear you say it,” he replies, voice cracking.

your heartbeat gets caught in your throat at the utter desperation in zoro’s voice. it sounded as if he truly needed your approval if he was going to survive this. it was unlike him to get hung up on something so trivial such as someone’s opinion of him. he never seemed to care what other people thought, why was he starting now? and with you, of all people?

before you can question it any further, zoro hisses. the pain causes his entire body to tense and his wound spurts fresh crimson. without thinking, your hand comes up to rest reassuringly on his cheek. automatically, your thumb begins rubbing soothing circles on the skin. he’s hot to the touch and slick with sweat but you don’t mind it. the way his body relaxes itself is all you care about. well, that and the way he leans into your touch. for someone who rejected physical contact at every given chance, this was new but very, very welcome.

the emotion of it all causes you to lose any concern you’d previously had over voicing your thoughts about zoro. you can’t help but give him the response he was begging for, regardless of how smitten you sounded.

“zoro, you’re the best i’ve seen. and i don’t just mean with your swords. no defeat could ever take away what you have, you know that right? almost everyday i ask myself what the hell i’m doing on the same crew as someone like you. you don’t understand how much it pains me knowing that you feel the need to prove your worth when clearly you’re the greatest there is. in every way. so, how could i ever be disappointed in you?”

there’s a few moments of silence. this time, you truly don’t hear a thing. not the waves, not the birds in the sky, not even the thumping of your own heartbeat. your brain has blocked out everything that isn’t zoro. the same zoro who’s breaking down into tears right in front of you. it’s an unbelievable sight, watching them stream down his face as he takes in everything you’d just said.

using what little strength he has left, zoro lifts a shaky hand to rest atop yours. you pause your ministrations on his cheek and let him intertwine his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand so tightly that you’re positive it takes everything in him to do so.

“never… again,” he chokes out, tearful eyes meeting yours. “from now, until i beat him.” he uses his left hand to unsheathe his sword. he lifts it to the sky with purpose, as if to solidify this vow. “will i ever give you a reason to be disappointed in me. i, roronoa zoro, will never lose again!”

his grip becomes unsteady, causing his sword to fall from his grasp and clatter on the ground. his arm falls back to his side and he’s able to give you one last look before he’s out cold.

“zoro?” luffy calls, leaning forward. “zoro?!”

you suck in a shaky breath at the feeling of his hand going limp. you’re grateful he’s still breathing at the very least but it’s clear he needs medical attention fast.

“let’s get him inside,” nami commands. it’s the first thing she’s worked up the courage to say.

luffy and usopp waste no time shifting zoro’s arms over their shoulders while you and nami take his legs. despite your joint efforts, the four of you struggle to drag zoro off the baratie; you blame his rigorous training that had made him all muscle. usually you wouldn’t complain but it sure made carrying him aboard the going merry a difficult task. at last, he’s dumped onto the table in your makeshift kitchen.

“get the first aid kit,” nami demands, opening zoro’s shirt to inspect the severity of his wound.

“do we even have one?” usopp replies as he shifts around every cupboard and drawer on the ship.

“zoro… can you hear me?” luffy’s quiet voice gets lost in the commotion your two other crew mates are creating. but you take notice.

“he’s going to be alright,” you tell him. whether you say it for luffy or yourself, you aren’t certain.

“someone needs to go back to baratie,” nami sighs, running a hand through her ginger locks. “maybe one of the customers is a ship’s doctor.”

the devil fruit user blinks a couple times. “right. a doctor. we need a doctor.” he sprints out of the kitchen, presumably in search of one.

once your captain’s gone, nami aids usopp in scouring the kitchen, in search of anything that could potentially help your crew mate until he’s able to receive the proper medical attention.

you decide to stay right by zoro’s side. not once do you leave him.

[sleepyhollands]

false god

PAIRING harry styles x reader

SUMMARY harry’s having trouble finding enough time to spend with y/n, even after she drops everything and joins him on tour. when they talk, they only seem to argue. when they don’t, they only seem to fuck.

WARNINGS she’s an angsty one— lots of miscommunication, poorly executed arguments, and general couple fighting content. BUT!! there is lots of really cute fluff at the end :> also, beware of smutty content such as soft!dom harry (my favorite), oral (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), unprotected p in v, a brief hesitation to get naked on y/n’s part, an even more brief mention of bondage play, harry leaves like one love bite, and tooth-rotting holding each other while having sex content. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT 5.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE fun fact this was supposed to be done months ago and then literally everything that could have gotten in my way did just that. but she’s here now!! writing this was a challenge but i feel so good about it now that it’s complete and i can’t wait for you all to read it. please lmk you enjoyed by leaving feedback and/or reblogging!! special thanks to @cherryjuiceblues for beta reading for me <3 ily <3

LOVER SELECTION one-shots here.

copyright © sleepyhollands. all rights reserved. || my masterlist.

“harry, it doesn’t matter if—”

“it does to me!”

“hey, there are two people in this relationship, you know.”

“yeah, an‘ one of ’em feels like right shit on what’s meant to be the greatest tour of his life! doesn’t that mean anythin‘ to you?”

“of course it does, i just—”

“really? ’cause y’could’ve fooled me, love.”

“harry, i swear, if you interrupt me one more time, i’m booking the next flight home.” 

… tour had been going really well for harry! he was playing back to back sold out shows in some of the biggest cities in the world, with adoring fans lining up by the thousands, itching to hear him sing live. he’d already had some really sweet interactions on stage, and no crazy mishaps had occurred (he was especially proud of himself for having ensured everyone’s safety so far). just in the last week alone, he’d been nominated for three different awards for his newest album and performances. anyone could see that he was living a dream— the dream, really. the kind that only comes true once in a blue moon. 

and yet… tour had been going really poorly for harry. now, he doesn’t like to complain about much; he knows just how fortunate he is, and actively tries to see the bigger picture when frustrated. but it was really hard to zoom out of his particular situation when he was so zeroed in on a particular aspect that had been bugging him for weeks— y/n. 

don’t get him wrong! y/n herself wasn’t what was bothering him. it was more so her presence, and his… lack thereof. 

if there’s one thing harry prides himself on more than anything, it’s being an attentive lover— even in the most innocent and platonic of ways. he tries his absolute hardest to be a supportive brother, a considerate son, a (hopefully) decent role model to those who look up to him, and especially a present, loving boyfriend. and for the most part, he’s just as successful in those aspects as he is in his career. in fact, y/n regularly speaks of how harry treats her like she hangs the stars in the sky just for him, how he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world. 

but this tour was taking its toll, and harry was taking it out on y/n. he’s never been great at communicating everything in the most positive of ways— that’s where he turns to songwriting— and he’d let his emotions get the better of him after letting them build up for the past couple of weeks. he wasn’t proud of himself, but he needed an outlet. 

harry didn’t mean to start the fight. but when y/n asked him where he’d been after a last minute management meeting following that night’s show kept him an extra half hour later than he said he’d be, it was like all the frustration just erupted. inadequacy is one of his least favorite feelings (next to loneliness), and being a barely-there or only-sometimes-there boyfriend couldn’t be more of a trigger for that particular emotion. 

now here they were, vexation filling the tour bus around them like a fog they could barely see through, inhaling it with every breath and releasing it back into the atmosphere surrounding them. harry huffed out a sigh, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he angrily looked out the window of the tour bus to distract himself for a moment, having to mentally step away from the argument at hand, even if just for a few seconds. watching as the dark streets outside shined with the headlights of other vehicles, he found himself wishing he were in one of them. it would be nice to be in a car alone, nothing but his thoughts and some music to keep him company. 

but he had real company. she was standing not six feet away from him, emulating his defensive position with her arms drawn across her own chest, jaw clenching and relaxing every other moment. when he finally turned to look at her again, he exhaled loudly. 

“we were crazy to think that this could work,” he mumbled, barely audible to y/n, but she was able to make it out. 

even when they fought, the girl seemed to be in sync with him, inhaling deeply, subconsciously countering his previous expulsion of breath. the yin to his yang.

“what are you talking about?”

harry groaned at her words. how didn’t she get this? “y/n, i’m never around! i wake up when you’re still asleep, prepare for the day, go to the venue, help set up the stage, sound check, rehearse a bit, and then ’m off t’go get ready for a show that lasts two hours. almost each night! i come back exhausted and aching to sleep! where d’you see yourself fitting in there?”

when y/n realized it was her turn to speak again, she said, “first off, do you think you could please calm down a little? i can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

his eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“when you’re acting like a child, harry! i mean, for god’s sake, i’m not nine! i can handle hanging out on my own for a few days at a time and just getting to cuddle with you at night until you have a day off. it’s not like i don’t have things to do throughout the day, too.”

while harry tended to say things he didn’t exactly believe in the heat of the moment, y/n meant every word she uttered. she really was content relaxing in the tour bus or a hotel room taking care of work on her laptop, catching up on new episodes of her favorite shows, or even going out to explore whatever new city they were in by herself. harry had breaks between show days once or twice a week, and the thought of having those days to themselves was enough to sate her desire to spend time with him. it annoyed her that he didn’t understand that, as she’d never been the clingy type and was always very self-sufficient. 

“oh, i’m acting like a child, am i? right, i didn’t realize that wanting t’be present in my relationship with my girlfriend was childish, but hey, you learn something new every day, i s’pose.” 

oh, y/n was really starting to seethe now. letting her arms fall to her sides with a frustrated puff, she began again. 

“god, harry, you’re not childish for wanting to spend time together! i’m saying you need to realize that i’m perfectly capable of waiting for your days off to really spend time with you. you’re acting like we can’t function without each other!”

“the whole idea of you comin‘ on tour with me was to have this time together, y/n,” harry fired back. “if we’re barely going to get to see each other anyways, then what’s the bloody point?”

…

harry might have spoken too soon. at least, that’s what he thought as he laid overtop y/n on the tour bus couch, because now the point might very well be getting to just feel her lips on his every now and again. 

it was late; harry had just come back from a show. usually, he’s too tired to do anything but crash onto a cloud-like mattress after all the jumping around he does on that stage, but this time all he wanted was his girl. it’d started innocently enough, with harry pulling y/n into his lap on the worn, red leather of the couch. his hands roamed along her hips and down to her waist beneath her soft hoodie (which wasn’t even technically her’s, but is it really theft if harry just leaves his clothes lying around for her to nab?), exploring the soft expanse of her skin, not straying any lower. her own hands were hidden in his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp in what she hoped were soothing motions. 

harry knew he was done for once he initiated the kiss. tentative at first, he pressed light pecks along the corner of her mouth, quick and feathery, like he didn’t really care if he got to kiss her so much as he got to hold her, or simply be with her. but soon, the eagerness set in, like he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get to have her was, and suddenly he was capturing her mouth with his own, barely giving her a chance to breathe as he tasted her. while harry never really believed in a higher power, he could have sworn he found religion in her lips. 

things only escalated from there. it wasn’t long before harry was wrapping his muscular arms around y/n, so tight that he accidentally squeezed too hard, earning a squeak from the girl. he muttered a hushed but sincere “’m sorry, darling,” to compensate. one hand supported her head, the other splayed across her back as he laid her against the cushions so that he could keep loving on her on the way down. he relished her little whimpers that she tried so hard to suppress, grinning against her jawbone, her neck, any skin he came across on his journey south to more pressing territory. 

harry didn’t bother removing y/n’s hoodie, opting instead to push it up past her naval in favor of gaining access to the waistband of her fluffy sleep shorts. he felt her hands tighten their grip ever so slightly on his shoulders as he hooked his fingers under it, relaxing again when he rubbed the pad of his thumb delicately along her hipbone, reminding her it was only him. 

it was a thing with y/n. she loved harry, of course she did, and she trusted him more than anyone. and maybe it was the way she was brought up, or perhaps a few poor experiences with sexual partners in the past, but there was always a fleeting moment of anxiety before shedding the clothing barrier before sex. like dipping a toe into a cold lake and hesitating a little, then ultimately deciding that jumping in wouldn’t be so bad. 

harry never pried. the first few times they’d slept together, he noticed her nerves, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. y/n had said yes each time, and after a while, he stopped asking. but still, whenever he noticed that brief nervous shift, harry gave her a chance to change her mind. 

this time, he bided his time by sponging tender kisses right above where his fingers were still half hidden under her shorts. he wanted her to feel safe, and taken care of, and he hoped his gentle touches and even breathing could remedy her anxiety. as he waited, harry’s mind drifted…. he was getting lost in the feel of her soft skin, its dips and curves and blemishes. he thought about her waist, how his hands fit so perfectly against its sides; her tummy, and how the muscles there jolted when he tickled them; and her hips… god, if y/n’s body was a church, her hips could be the altar. harry was ready to say a prayer right then, thanking every higher power for blessing him with this gorgeous girl—

“harry?” his love’s melodic voice interrupted his thoughts, and harry’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his nose continuing to skim just above her navel. “um… you can keep going. please.” 

the corner of harry’s mouth quirked upward, and y/n could have sworn she caught a glimpse of mischief in the jade of his irises, but it was gone in an instant, as he wasted no time in stripping her of her bottoms.

…

“god, h-harry,” panted y/n, her grip on his curls constricting with every lick to her core, “’s so good, oh—”

“would feel even better if y’stopped trying t’run away from me, wouldn’t it? don’t wanna have to tie you down.”

y/n couldn’t help it! it wasn’t her fault if harry’s tongue was just too good and her body’s natural reaction was to attempt to escape his grip for a little relief. if anything, he should be happy— they’d been at this for so long y/n lost count of the minutes, and after two toe-curling orgasms, one would think harry’s jaw could use a break. 

but that thought flew out the window when y/n remembered who she was metaphorically in bed with. 

“’m sorry…,” she whimpered, gripping the side of the couch cushion as her eyes squeezed shut.

“don‘ have to be sorry, darling,” harry mumbled against her folds, chin glistening with her arousal as he placed a soft kiss to y/n’s clit, making her jolt in his hold. he breathed a short laugh, adjusting his arms so that one held her upper thigh next to his head, while the other pinned her hips to the red leather, restricting her ability to move. “jus’ wanna make you feel as good as possible, is all. will y’let me?”

harry turned his head, nipping at the inside of the girl’s thigh, and she gasped at the brief assault on the softest skin of her body, now adorning the mark of his front teeth that she loved so much. she shuddered a breath as best she could, and harry could tell by the way her knuckles were turning white in their grip on the couch that she was trying her best to be good. feeling a twinge of guilt, he figured maybe he should offer her a second to breathe. y/n opened her eyes when she felt harry’s lips retreat from her aching cunt and the weight of his head rest against the love bite. 

“hey.”

y/n cast her gaze down upon the boy (who looked far too innocent, considering what they were doing) with his cheek laid on her inner thigh, stray hairs tickling her just a tad. playfulness swam in his eyes, but there was an underlying current of concern. 

“doin‘ okay?”

she nodded, gulping. harry noticed. 

“because we can take a break if you want to. just say the word, okay?”

“i will, i-i promise. but… can you please keep going?”

that was all he needed to get right back into it, only with even more fervor than before. when y/n reached her third and final peak of the night, her whole body shook, and harry had the pleasure of getting to watch as he helped her ride out her high. he almost came in his pants, rutting his hips into the sofa, moaning against her core, begging her give it t’me, love, that’s it.

harry pulled back when she started pushing at his head, whining for relief as he gave one final lap at her core. he grinned at her fucked-out figure as he wiped his face on his forearm, then took her hand that had been grasping at the cushion in one of his, bringing the back of it to his lips for a gentle kiss. 

“feel all right, baby?”

“mhm,” she hummed between heaving breaths, glancing at what she assumed could only be a quite painful stiffy between his legs as he sat up, “do you?”

harry followed her line of vision, offering her a chuckle and an i’m fine, using his free hand to smooth his thumb along her brow. before he could even register it, her palm slipped from the grip of his other hand and traveled down to rub against the bulge in his pants, earning a sharp hiss from her boyfriend and a deep groan soon after. 

“why don’t you let me repay the favor?”

…

harry was pretty sure y/n was asleep. if she wasn’t, she was definitely on the verge— her breaths were deep and even as she laid in his hold, her head on his chest, ear pressed overtop his steadily beating heart. and who could blame her? the evening’s activities had worn her out, which meant harry had done his job properly. he was more than happy to be wide awake, running his fingertips up and down her arm, inhaling the sweet scent of her fruity body wash while she dreamt if it meant she was rested and content and happy. 

moments like these made harry think they could get away with it. the long hours spent apart, the hectic schedules, the fighting. sure, it was tough, and yes, they both had a temper that rivaled one another’s for the ‘least amount of patience award’ on any given day. but every missing ounce of patience was compensated by double its weight in love. they loved one another enough to make it work. 

they could make this work. 

right?

…

“jesus, harry, how do you think that makes me feel? you’d honestly rather i not be here? are you actually that insecure?”

“c’mon, y/n, you know tha’s not what i meant.”

y/n felt like they were going around in circles, having the same fight over and over again. only this time, the couple found themselves in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful view overlooking a beautiful city. and instead of getting to enjoy it, y/n was glaring at harry though the vanity mirror, his back facing her as he tamed his wild curls for tonight’s show… which he had to leave for in just a few short minutes. 

the balled up fist on y/n’s hip flew up to her face, fingers flexing to pinch at the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. 

“i can’t believe this. i dropped everything to be here with you— to support you on the most incredible tour of your career— and instead of being happy i’m here as opposed to the alternative of thousands of miles away in a different time zone for months, you’re sitting here bitching about being too tired?” 

harry sighed deeply, only infuriating y/n more. “you’re missing the point. ’s not that i don’t want you here, or just that ’m too tired. ’s knowing you’re sitting around by yourself, waiting on me while ’m working, when you could be out with friends and family, or sleeping in the comfort of your own bed—”

“that you’re not in!” the girl loudly interjected— how didn’t he get this? “i put all those things aside for us, har. it’s not like i’m leaving my life behind for years. christ’s sake, the tour is over in two months! but somehow, being away from my home and routine is easier than being in the same room as you right now.”

harry contemplated his next words carefully, turning them over in his head a few times and editing any obvious mistakes, leaving the pair of them to marinate in suffocating silence for a good ten or so seconds before he finally spoke. 

“y/n… i can’t be a good boyfriend and a serious artist simultaneously, okay? not while ’m on tour. i can’t keep losing sleep over how well i’m balancing—”

“okay, you know what, harry? you know what? maybe you should just leave me, then. wouldn’t that be easier? you’d be able to sleep better at night, right?”

they both knew she didn’t mean it, though harry couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to hear. but she was pissed, and harry knew better than to try to reason with her when she was like this. 

when she realized he wasn’t going to respond, instead electing to stare brokenly into the mirror, she continued. “you know damn well how hard i work for this relationship. i’ve flown across the oceans that have separated us, driven for hours just to get to see you for, like, one— hell, i’ve skipped some of my most important classes so we could go to shitty dive bars in the middle of the day together! yeah, remember that? i love you, okay? people who love each other are supposed to be grateful for any time they have together at all, no matter if it’s every day or once a year.”

y/n took a breath, finally cooling down after her heated rant. she took a moment to take in the sight of her boyfriend, dressed so vibrantly, feeling anything but. 

“they warned us about times like this,” the defeated tone of y/n’s whisper was enough to finally get harry to say something. 

“what was that, love?”

the girl swallowed the little saliva in her mouth before speaking up a mere decibel. “remember what my parents said? ‘the road gets hard, and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith,’” she imitated her father’s deep voice, and if not for the circumstances, harry might’ve laughed. 

they weren’t lost, were they?

…

if there was such a thing as heaven on earth, y/n is pretty sure she’s been there. in fact, she goes there whenever harry so much as touches her. 

when he kisses her shin as they lay watching a movie together on the couch, pulling her leg up off his lap and craning his neck downward to meet it in the middle. when he runs his fingers down the bridge of her nose, making an exaggerated boop! noise once he reaches the tip, gently pressing against it like a doorbell. and especially when he has her like this. 

harry’s arms felt secure wrapped around y/n’s torso, her hips moving back and forth atop his own. the feeling of his cock twitching and shifting inside her while her nipples rub deliciously along his chest made her dizzy, like she had just gotten off a loopy rollercoaster. harry’s back arched just slightly off the plush mattress of their hotel suite’s bed when y/n gave a little bounce, arms constricting around her and forcing a pleased sigh to fall from her lips. 

the girl hid her face in the crook of his neck, and harry could feel each and every hot breath against his skin. lost in pleasure, he let his large hands migrate from her hips down to her bum, where he gave a small pinch to the flesh, eliciting a yelp and a small jolt from y/n. 

“sorry, baby,” he laughed, “couldn’t help m’self.” harry gently flattened his palm against the now tender skin, rubbing there softly in an attempt to soothe the little ache he left. when he felt satisfied, he shifted to rubbing between her shoulder blades instead, his other arm still wrapped around her lower back as she returned to her previous rhythm above him. 

y/n could tell harry was enjoying himself. his groans alone were evidence enough, not to mention the little utterances of “shit, darling,” and “so good t’me,” he frequently let slip. but perhaps he just needed a bit more to reach his high, because without warning his hands were on her thighs, gripping tightly as he began to thrust upwards into her at a much quicker pace than she had originally set— it had her seeing stars in a matter of mere seconds. 

“oh, god— harry,” y/n gasped out, gripping the edge of the plush pillow by harry’s ear. she could feel him hitting that special spot inside her with every snap of his hips, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head, muscles tightening all throughout her body. 

“almost there, angel… just…,” harry’s thrusts began to slow, becoming more deliberate, and now he was moving her hips to grind against his each time they met, sending y/n over the edge. 

y/n’s moans were long and drawn out as she came, body spasms making her hold on more tightly to harry for stability. she didn’t even hear him finish, too busy reveling in the euphoric feeling of cumming in his arms, surrounded by warmth and love and feeling the safest she had in a long while. 

it was moments like these where y/n couldn’t fathom how she’s ever been upset with harry. he was perfect, lying here under her unsteady body, breathing deeply not only to catch his breath, but to take in the smell of her. she wanted this for eternity. and if this was heaven, then surely hell was when they fought with each other. 

…

y/n thought she was dreaming at first, not used to being roused from her slumber by anything other than her well-timed alarm and the occasional bark of a dog on a nearby street. she expected that after blinking the sleep from her eyes a few times, the vague image of her favorite boy would dissipate, and she’d fall back into the comfort of her warm pillow. but when she squeezed them shut once, then twice, and her boyfriend’s face was still a foot away from her’s, brushing his fingertips up her nose and along her brow, she set aside her exhaustion in exchange for confusion.

now, harry knew better than to wake y/n up. in most circumstances, she’d tell him off, or gently kick at him to get him to leave her alone. he found it rather endearing, and it’s one of the reasons he’s so protective of her in her sleep— always holding her close to keep her safe, shielding her eyes from any light intruding on the space she lay, making sure both their phones were set to ‘do not disturb.’ but he had to make an exception, just this once. 

“darling,” she barely registered his whisper, “wake up f’me, please?”

a whine fell from y/n’s lips, her eyes scrunching shut as she turned her body away from him, which harry knew was code for let me sleep, for fuck’s sake! a smile graced his lips at the action, jotting down a mental note to make this up to her later. 

compensating for the newfound distance between them, harry scooted closer to her. he kneeled on the floor next to the bed, close to the pillows she rested upon. he laid one arm against the mattress, perching his chin on the back of his wrist. using his free hand, he continued to brush his fingertips lightly against his love’s cheek, her jaw— all along her face, really. god, her loves her face so much.  

“please, baby?”

harry had just come back from one of his best performances yet— the crowd’s energy was unmatched, the chemistry between him and his band members was palpable, and he’d managed to not get hit with any flying objects all night! but what really did it for him was the fan project he was surprised with at the end of the show. thousands of people in the room wore light-up bracelets that shone pink and blue during one of his favorite songs, ‘love of my life.’ if harry’s heart had been any more full in that moment, it might’ve exploded right there in his chest. 

he had been on cloud nine for a moment. but soon, realization washed over him in a way that squeezed at his lungs, stealing his breath for a second. the love of his life was somewhere miles away, probably sitting in their hotel room watching a comfort film, oblivious to anything he was feeling on that stage. he just wanted to go home to her and gush about what had happened, and how he wished she’d been there, and how it made so much sense that it would happen during ‘love of my life’ because it was the perfect representation of the amount of love he had for his, and how if she’d have been there, he would have looked directly at her and smiled the whole time. 

it made him realize how bloody stupid he was.

in retrospect, the conversation he’d needlessly just woken y/n up for could have waited until morning. but then harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he didn’t tell her he was sorry right away. 

a groan sounded through the room, followed by the ruffling of bedsheets as the girl turned back over to glare annoyedly at harry. he let out a soft laugh at her behavior. 

“’m sorry, baby. know you jus‘ wanna sleep right now, but ’s it okay if we talk for a mo‘?”

“now?” y/n asked in a gravelly voice.

“now, m‘ love.”

with a soft sigh, she relented, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her knuckles. harry caught the motion, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from her face. he didn’t like when y/n did that, as she always managed to do it too roughly. instead, he held her smaller hands in his own, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 

“what is it?” y/n asked through a yawn. harry looked at her for a moment— really looked at her— before responding.

“i’m sorry.”

it took her a moment to register his words. “for waking me up?”

harry laughed that dreamy laugh she loved so much, and it almost made up for the fact that she was up at twelve thirty in the morning. “no, y’little minx. not for that. well, yes, for that, but that’s not what i meant.”

“what are you sorry for, then?” 

harry looked at her with an expression y/n couldn’t place. it look him a few beats to speak. “i… i’m sorry i was such a prick before. i love that you’re here, an‘ that i get t’see you when i’m off. know you put aside a lot for this, an‘ i ruined it with m’own problems. didn’t mean to.”

y/n’s features softened at the boy’s sincerity, and if it weren’t for the warmth his hands encapsulating hers provided, she’d have reached out and held his face, peppering kisses over every dip and curve. 

“i know you didn’t…. i’m sorry, too.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve listened better. you were trying to tell me how you felt and i just disregarded it. that wasn’t very nice of me, either.”

the right corner of harry’s lips tugged upwards, morphing his mouth into that little half-grin y/n adored so much. “think we can get past it, darling?”

the girl scooted forward the tiniest bit, harry’s magnetic pull too hard to resist. though they were the only two in the room, she whispered, “i’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” harry liked how she made something so simple sound like a secret deal between them.

harry’s half-smile quickly quirked up, completing itself, and y/n swooned over his dimples and adorable bunny teeth. a short and quiet breath of a laugh fell past his lips, and for a moment, he just looked at her. but his gaze caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes, and his grin faltered a bit. 

y/n was always good at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. not when it really mattered, don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit. but at dinner with her parents or meetings at work, she was able to pretend she wasn’t exhausted or annoyed. it never worked with harry, though. he could read and understand her like his own lyrics, and tonight was no exception. he saw through the mask of humor at her uncertainty, and a pang of guilt bloomed in his chest. 

he let out a sigh as he beckoned her forward by gently tugging her hands, still in his, toward him. “c’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling his love into his lap. y/n curled into him, knees tucked upward into her chest as his strong arms found purchase around her frame, holding her tenderly but securely. one of harry’s large hands held the back of her head against him, her ear right over his heart, listening to it beat for her. 

“love you like crazy. you’ve no idea.” he peppered light kisses to the top of her head, so softly she might’ve missed one or two. “thank you for comin‘ an‘ s’porting me. means the world, honestly.” 

“i’m happy to be anywhere with you, har,” she replied in a voice honey-thick with sleep. “even if it’s just for a few minutes. always so happy to have you.”

harry closed his eyes, laying back into the pillows, bringing y/n down with him so that she was laying overtop his sturdy body, inhaling his every exhale. 

“you have me,” he said, though he was almost certain she didn’t hear him, likely already pulled into the void of sleep, drawn in by the comfort of harry’s arms, his smell, him. 

“you’ll always have me.”

taglist (final time using the old one, see new link in bio): @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

[rainerioun]

𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖡𝖤 𝖨𝖭 2 𝖸𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖲? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hello! I know this is a shorter post, but I wanted to share something. This was requested anonymously, so thank you for the suggestion! ♥

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST.

PILE ONE

Where Will You Be In 2 Years? The Empress [Reversed], The Chariot, Knight of Wands [Reversed].

In two years, you're definitely the one in control. If you're facing any hurdles, especially with dreams left unattended or ideas just lingering without action, that fades away over time. You might still encounter creative blocks and timing issues, but you'll handle them much more effectively, learning self-control and taking decisive action. You'll realize that your accomplishments don't solely define you; they're just an added bonus. You should know to slow down, it will grant you a clearer perspective to seeking security.

What Energy Will You Radiate? Networker — Light : Enhances unity through sharing of information. Engenders social awareness and empathy. Shadow : Conveys information only for person gain. Spreads fear and falsehood.  The Merchant : Self-worth, Trade. 

You could find yourself in a more social setting or perhaps in a higher position in your career, whether it's the same job or a new one. You're confident but not cocky, aware of your self-worth, and others notice this too. In some way, you seem to be a messenger, spreading kindness. This doesn't have to be taken literally; it could relate to anything. Whatever came to mind when you read that might be it.

PILE TWO

Where Will You Be In 2 Years? Ten of Pentacles, Knight of Swords, The Tower.

If you're starting something you've been wanting to begin or have been thinking about it, know now is the right time to do it. The next two years will be intense and different from what you're used to, but you can handle it. All your hard work will definitely pay off. In two years, you'll achieve what you wanted—be it wealth, security, or some kind of success. This will finally become permanent. However, expect significant changes, some of which you may not like at first. Any upheaval or chaos is just a way to build an even stronger foundation. For those considering starting a family, think about your circumstances carefully. Don't rush. This aspect will bloom within the coming years.

What Energy Will You Radiate? Queen — Light : Radiates the regal feminine. Uses her benevolent authority to protect others. Shadow : Becomes arrogant when authority is challenged. Controlling and demanding.  The Adventurer : Responsibility, Expectations.

Again, for those considering starting a family—if not, feel free to skip this part—you'll find yourself strongly in the parental role. This doesn't necessarily mean with a human child; just know you'll feel content. Some of you might be stressing over the mere thought, but rest assured, it'll bring fulfillment. As for the rest of you, you'll develop a stronger sense of responsibility. However, this doesn't mean you can't explore. The next few years are about stabilizing, rebuilding what's been lost, but in two years, you'll regain your 'freedom' once more. You are always the one in control, don't get lost in a little box.

PILE THREE

Where Will You Be In 2 Years? King of Swords, Seven of Cups, Four of Wands.

Pile three, you'll find yourself in a place of mental and physical clarity. It's a very calm and peaceful state. You're enjoying life, with a sense of harmony and relaxation. Home feels like a welcoming place. You deserve this, so keep following your instincts. There are many paths and decisions ahead, but there's no wrong choice. You get to decide for yourself. Whatever starts now will lead to peace in the future. While life won't be stress-free, you'll accept the struggles, not rushing to figure everything out immediately.

What Energy Will You Radiate? Hermit — Light : Seeks Solitude to focus intently on inner life. Serves personal creativity. Shadow : Withdraws from society out of fear or negative judgements of others. Refusing to help those in need.  The Vengeance : Overcoming Slights, A Choice. 

In two years, I envision you embracing the homebody life, in your own zone. It's all about you and your close circle. You'll find contentment in solitude, focusing on the little things with acceptance—chores, hobbies, and everyday routines. When I think of this scenario, I see someone sitting in a chair, leisurely watching their pet play without a worry in the world. It's a heartwarming scene; some of you might even welcome a new pet into your life. In two years, it's a time for retreat, and if you believe you can get there, you will.

[pedrithink]

delicate ✩ jude bellingham

about: the massive hate you are getting on internet and the way jude stood by you, supporting you.

couple: jude bellingham x reader! singer

request: hey babyyyy! what do u think about a jude x reader (maybe olivia rodrigo fc) ?? xxx love u

face claim: olivia rodrigo

NOW: Jude’s Bellingham talks ‘Real Madrid’, His first World Cup’s impressions & His favorite Y/N’s songs.

comments ⬇️

user1 he’s so perfect 🥹 yn and him seemed like soulmates

user2 I REMEMBERED WHEN YN POINTED AT JUDE DURING GORGEOUS AND HE TOOK A PHOTO AND SHE WAS ALL GIGGLY

user3 yn once said “you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts” and “they say home is where the heart is, but that's not where mine lives. you know I love a london boy.”

user4 @user3 im yn

user5 imagine being jude bellingham and having yn write her best love songs and best title tracks about you a DREAM

judebellingham has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, selenagomez, and 5.682.972 others

ynusername vampire song and video out now 🧛🏼. writing this song helped me sort through lots of feelings of regret, anger, and heartache. it's one of my favorite songs on the album and it felt very cathartic to finish. im so happy it's in your hands now and I hope it helps u deal with any bloodsuckers in your lite. all my thanks 4ever 🫶🏻

View all 21.567 comments

judebellingham proud of you, vampie 🧛🏼🩸🥹🫶🏻

ynusername @judebellingham love u babs

user1 vampire is one of the best songs ever

user2 another song about another ex 🥱🙄

user3 @user2 literally let people write out their feelings or WHATEVER they want. obviously yall can only attack women for this tho...

user4 people calling yn boring or overrated for writing songs about her ex does not sit right w me …. like let her write about whatever she wants?? she’s 20??? all singers have songs about their ex’s???? stfu

user5 @user4 SPEAK. ON. IT

user6 "yn makes too much songs ab her ex" "all she write is break up songs, she’s so obsessed"

ok then stop listening to her songs 🤷🏻‍♀️

user7 whaaaaat 😭 why are there so many people mad that yn wrote some songs about her ex. meanwhile, there are men who only write songs about fucking hoes and using drugs and yet they still get praised for it 🥱

judebellingham

Liked by ynusername, masonmount, and 7.899.082 others

judebellingham date night with vampie to celebrate all of her achievements, proud of u ❤️‍🩹

View all 34.872 comments

ynusername 🧛🏻‍♀️🩸❤️‍🩹🧛🏼

user8 JUDE CALLING YN VAMPIE >>>>

user9 i hope i find someone who supports me the way jude supports yn

user10 ill always be soft for these two. its amazing how jude supports yn in any way he can and yn never forgets to save jude a seat. fucking POWER COUPLE!!!

user11 @user10 i just love them

user12 lets talk about the fact that at the 2020 grammys she didn’t feel like there was someone to celebrate with and now she has one and he helps her and supports her and take her on dates when she achieves more and more in her singing career 🥹

user13 yn and jude be like: happiest relationship of my life, so let’s go cheer for my breakup songs together 💕💞💓💗💖💘

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, arianagrande, and 10.927.526 others

ynusername delicate is out now 🫧 surprise song for y’all, hope u like it 🫶🏻

View all 101.872 comments

user14 delicate video really speaks to me. yn let go of the world's expectations of how she should act, smile and behave. once she did that, she was able to find who she was looking for. i’m shaking and crying, so so proud of our baby!!!!

user15 @user14 it’s already my favorite music video of her!!!! i love the lyrics 2

user16 these pics were taking by jude i’m CRYING and the lyrics… I JUST LOVE HIM EVEN MORE

user17 @user16 yeah 🥹 i’m so happy that she found someone that makes her feel like that

user18 delicate is one of the most beautiful songs yn has ever written, it’s so GENUINE.

[victoria-grimesss]

Ghost Headcanons ~SFW & NSFW~

masterlist

->Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

->Warning: MDNI pretty please!! smutttt, some fluff, romance, etc.

->A/N: giggling and kicking my feet

SFW:

He's a quiet, stoic, and serious man but somehow you worm your way into his heart and although he may have been annoyed at first, he had a feeling you were going to be an issue when you first met.

It was an intensely slow burn built up to your relationship filled with passed glances, touches that you wish were longer, and the sound of his commands lingering in your mind for longer than normal.

Eventually he asked you out, unconventionally. He marched right up to you after training, still drenched in sweat and asked you flat out. You accepted and from there grew something as incredible as it is intense.

100% scary guard dog privileges.

Walking at night is never scary when he’s next to you. His stare is enough to deter any wrongdoers, he walks on outside of the sidewalk.

He's quiet but don't mistake that for aloof. He's observant as all hell. Always watching out for you when you're out together. An absentminded action he says.

Not a big fan of PDA but he always has a hand on you at all times. Ushering you through a crowd he's got his hand on the small of your back guiding you.

He enjoys being seen with you, having you next to him and just being in your presence is all he needs.

He denies he gets jealous but when a guy who shows a little too much interest in you enters into conversation with you he'll come over just to puff up his chest and throw a heavily tatted arm around your waist. "A bit jealous Simon?" "Don't know what you're talking about love."

He has an insane amount of those mask that are strewn about everywhere, and they are all in a disarray of washed and unwashed.

He thinks it's cute when you put them on and mimic him, especially if you're not British and you mimic a butchered Manchester accent. It gets a laugh out of him.

Others adore the two of you, especially the rest of the 141. He has literal heart eyes for you, through his rough exterior he really does love you.

His love language is words of affirmation and actions. You'll wake up to some flowers and painkillers on the side-table after a particularly shitty day.

Even if he's in a hurry to get out of the door he will never miss the chance to give you a hearty kiss and tell you to have a good day.

He listens to classic rock, there's usually some form of it playing in the house, he doesn't like the silence due to the tinnitus from the field. The vibes are great in the house.

You can’t tell his mood over text AT ALL. He texts in short brief choppy sentences. He prefers phone calls.

Ex:

You: “don’t forget to take the meat out of the fridge when you get home, maybe swap the clothes from the wash to the dryer if you have time. I’ll be home around 6pm traffic shouldn’t be too bad. Insert story about your day.”

Him: 👍

Aggressively British, sometimes you don't even know what he said. You just stare at him. "Did you hear me love?" "I was questioning if those were actual words that just came out of your mouth."

Sometimes you wake up at 3am for water to see him eating a big portion of fries in just his boxers with just the dim light of a football match as a light source. You usually make eye contact once but say nothing then retreat back to the room. The first time you saw that you were convinced it was a fever dream.

Sometimes his jokes are worse than Price's. You laugh out of sympathy nonetheless. You're his #1 fan.

Speaking of Price, if you're on the team he won't let your relationship get in the way of his career or mission. You are on the team because you're capable and can handle the job at hand but he does keep close eyes on you just in case on risky missions. If you get hurt he blames himself. You reassure him it's just part of the job.

There was a visible tension between the two of you that was visible to the rest of the team before you got together. I mean Ghost stared at you a majority of the time when you weren't actively working. So when they saw the two of you coming out of the same room one morning it was a definite relief. "Oh for fucks sake it's about time!" "Shut it Johnny."

He either sleeps completely silently and still to the point you think he might be dead, to which to check on him and he just opens his eyes right away. You almost shit your pants. OR he snores like a train, this option is usually when he's safe at home with you and can relax.

He loves it more than anything when he can fall asleep on your chest with you combing your fingers through his hair. He swears he's never been more relaxed.

You never discussed children but you get small glimpses into dad actions when Soap is over to help Simon fix something that takes two. "Johnny are you daft? Hold the bloody flashlight straight I can't see fuck all with you shining it in my eyes." Soap is hysterical seeing him upset over a sink leak. "Yea yea sure LT." You just watch from afar, giggling.

NSFW:

He's intense, alluring, and dominant. He can last many rounds; he enjoys taking you every which way he can.

His voice.

He loves the effect it has on you, how he can pin you against a wall and simply stare down at you, drawing it out by raking his gaze from your lips and around your face not saying a work and just toying with you until he would utter a few simple words and have you weak in the knees. His ego is huge because he knows you find him irresistible.

Will come up behind you when you're in the kitchen, voice low and creeping right to your ear, low enough to hear the gravel. His hand would snake around you securing around your waist. All of your clothes end up on the kitchen floor, they look better down there anyway he said. "I'm a bit famished love, care if I take a bite?"

Confident in the bedroom, especially if you're vocal. He likes to hear how he makes you feel. In return he'll tell you exatly how you make him feel. "Gods love, you..fuck-fucking hell you're doing such a good job."

Sessions in bed are messy, hot, and sweaty. He plays dirty but matches what you give him. He won't degrade you, he respects you. But he is a tease.

Will tease the tip of it until you're begging and withering. "You want it say badly yea? Go ahead, tell me how badly you need it pretty girl."

His favorite positions would be doggy, missionary with your legs up around his neck or your ankles in his hands. He loves to see your reactions.

He finds himself sometimes lost in the moment, silent as he works on you. Eyelids heavy as he tries to commit this moment to memory, hands gripping you with fervor. His breath hot on your skin when he lowers his lips to your neck to leave his mark. "You're my good girl, such a good girl for me. Say it."

He may be dominant in bed but he lets you call the shots. If you need him and you're out at the pub just grab his arm and take him to the bathroom. Out on a late night date? His car is in the back of the parking lot, he's grabbing the keys and reclining the front seat. You've had sex in a supply closet once out of sheer desperation once.

Hates hates military galas, will really only interact with the 141 and some others if he has to but loves to see you all dolled up. His favorite part is smearing your makeup on the pillowcases afterwards though.

Shower sex is also an option, seeing you all soapy and wet really gets him going. Makes for easy cleanup afterwards too.

If you like his uniform he's more than happy to just bend you over and unzip the front of his pants. You’ve don’t it with the mask on more than once.

Gets off on going down on you. Could die doing it and die a happy man. He'll definitely get himself off while getting you off.

Enjoys a good blowjob every now and again, let’s you take the lead not a big head pusher unless you ask. He’ll do whatever you want.

Eye contact is a must. Missionary with your legs around his neck, and a hand around your neck making sure you know who's making you feel like this. "You love this don't you? Dirty girl."

If you're being a brat and he's had enough he'll just have you ride him, he'll put his hands behind his head and have you do all of the work until you get too tired to continue. You'll have to admit defeat. To where he'll take the reins by grabbing your hips.

If you have long hair he enjoys hitting it from the back and wrapping a majority of your hair around his fist and pulling just enough for you to make noise for him.

Definitely a mirror in your shared bedroom where he can sit you on his lap and you can both watch as you work yourself on him.

His eyes roll back in his head when he cums, his grip leaves marks. He enjoys finishing inside you, the closeness and intimacy makes his stomach burn in a good way but he’s all for pairing your ass or tits too. He’s not a picky man.

Aftercare king, although he likes to bask in the afterglow for a bit with you. You lay on his chest trying to catch your breath, the room is stuffy and warm and your heart is racing but you've never felt better. But after he cleans you up he'll come back with a good cup of tea to end the night.

tag: @chiharuthecatmom

[koqabear]

Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

 “The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was. 

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy. 

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse. 

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together. 

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands. 

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life. 

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks. 

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough. 

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it. 

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you. 

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly. 

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word. 

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss. 

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—” 

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin. 

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out. 

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer. 

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right. 

⤬⤬⤬ 

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind. 

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show. 

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours—  and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him. 

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead. 

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long. 

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door. 

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight. 

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready. 

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit. 

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely. 

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it. 

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet. 

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand. 

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area. 

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai. 

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly. 

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you. 

He freezes entirely. 

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage. 

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side. 

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you. 

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling. 

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…” 

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return. 

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind. 

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it. 

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation. 

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase…. 

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you. 

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth. 

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace. 

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again. 

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you. 

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was. 

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by. 

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking. 

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 5.9k

warnings: idk some angst, misunderstanding, swearing, drinking, kissing

note: im not like super happy with this but oh well! this is my first time writing for the nhl so dont judge toooooo harshly lol. request more if you'd like!

The sun filtered through the cracks in the curtains, gently stirring you from your peaceful dream, eliciting a quiet groan as you were quite enjoying said dream. You dragged the blanket over your head in an attempt to go back to sleep, but that proved worthless as you heard Jack shout your name from down the hall. You could hear his footsteps nearing your room, and you tightened the grip you had on the blanket so that he wasn’t able to rip it off as easily. You just wanted to stay in bed a little longer and then maybe you would get up.

“C’mon, sunshine. Time to get up,” He laughed as he managed to pull the blanket off your body. The way you were curled up in a ball as you tried to shield yourself from the sunlight made his heart swell, but it was a sensation he was used to when it came to you.

For the last six years of his life, you had been present for anything major in his life. Sometimes it was over facetime, but you had still always made time for him and he made time for you. When you had finished college a year early and worked yourself into multiple panic attacks a day because you were scared about what you were going to do from there, it was Jack who suggested you move to Jersey with him. It was Jack who helped you get on your feet and start your career.

In turn, he got to have you there with him. You were there at every home game, smile wide and eyes bright as you cheered him and his team on. You were there to comfort him when he felt like he had let everyone down because had an off game. Nails scratching his scalp as you let him rant about how he felt like he was under too much pressure. He was there for you, too. He was there when you felt like a failure and nothing was going in the right direction. More importantly, you were both there for each other when everything did go right, and that was when Jack felt himself start to fall in love with his best friend.

“Go away,” You whined, “It’s too early to be awake.”

Jack gently grabbed your arms that were covering your face and pulled them down so he could see you. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your nose was scrunched, refusing to welcome the daylight without a fight. “It’s nearly 11:30. Luke and I are already back from morning skate,” He teased, thumbs softly tracing circles on your arms.

You peeked at him through your barely open eyes, meeting his own as he waited for you to get out of bed. You were never able to resist his pleading eyes and childlike pout, and it was quite pathetic just how easy you caved when it came to the boy in front of you. All he needed to do was breathe around you and you would do whatever he asked, but of course he didn’t know that. That was a secret you intended to keep in order to maintain the best friendship you’ve ever had. 

“I hate you,” You grumbled, ignoring the way his touch lit your skin on fire. The action wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it made you silently yearn for more all the same.

“No you don’t. Now let’s go or I’ll go get Trevor and we’ll drag you out of bed.”

You let Jack pull you out of your very comfortable bed, and followed him down the hall to the kitchen where Trevor and Luke were bickering over Lord knows what. You sleepily sulked behind your best friend, wanting nothing more than to turn around and go back to bed. The boys had kept you up until nearly four in the morning catching up, and arguing about whose hockey team was the better of the two.

“Y/N,” Trevor’s smile beamed once he took notice of your presence. He left his dispute with Luke and wrapped his arms around you in a hug that nearly crushed you. 

“Trevor, you literally saw me last night,” You feigned annoyance as you wrapped your arms around his neck to return his affection.

Luke watched as his brother’s body tensed; jaw clenching, fists briefly balling into fists, and eyes narrowing in on his two best friends. The nineteen year old rolled his eyes at his brother's obvious, and unearned, jealousy. He lightly slapped Jack on the shoulder, breaking his attention away from the two of you, and raised his eyebrows as he silently asked what was up. Jack rolled his eyes at his younger brother before turning to find something to eat for you.

Trevor knew what he was doing, but he wasn’t doing it because he was trying to be mean. He was trying to motivate Jack to get his head out of his ass and finally admit that he had feelings for you. Making him jealous probably wasn’t the best idea, but none of his other ideas had worked. His encouraging talks had only frustrated Jack, so he was taking a different approach for his short visit in New Jersey. 

“Thank you, J,” You smiled up at Jack as he placed the bowl of cereal on the dining room table you had to beg the boys to get. Jack knew that, even though it was nearing lunch time, you had just woken up and you were going to want breakfast.

“You guys are too cute,” Trevor couldn’t help but tease, falling into the chair on the opposite side of the table, “You need to put us all out of your misery and just date each other.”

“Seriously, Trev? How many times do I need to tell you that we’re just friends and that’s all we will be,” Jack clipped, giving his friend a warning glare as he walked back into the kitchen.

Despite knowing that Jack only ever thought of you as his best friend, the way he said that made your face fall and your chest tighten. You kept your eyes trained on the table in front of you as you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over. Trevor glanced between Jack and you, eyes filled with worry and guilt once he noticed the way you refused to look up and how red your cheeks were.

“So,” Luke started, trying to diffuse the obvious tension, “You coming to the game, Trev? I know Y/N is because she wants to see Barzal.” Luke also knew what he was doing, and he was doing it to be mean.

Trevor let out a laugh as you defended, “Excuse me, I go to all of your home games! Being able to see Mat Barzal is just a bonus.”

The sound of a cabinet aggressively slamming shut made all three of your heads turn to the kitchen where Jack stood with his back turned to everyone. He mumbled an irritated apology before he finally decided to take the seat next to you. Luckily, Luke’s change in topic was enough to stop yourself from crying, but Jack mistook your reddened cheeks for a blush that was elicited by the mention of the Isles center.

“As long as you’re wearing a Devil’s jersey, look at whoever you want.”

“Why wouldn’t she wear a Devils jersey,” Jack spoke, voice laced with a hint of panic at the thought of you wearing the other team's jersey.

“Because she’s in love with Barzal. C’mon Jack, keep up.”

“Okay, first of all, she is right here and she is not in love with Mat Barzal, he’s just very nice to look at,” You gave the two boys across from you a pointed look before passing a soft glance at Jack, “And I’m wearing a Devils jersey like I do every game.”

The conversation fell back to a less awkward strained topic and the uneasiness between you and Jack faded until it was normal again. The boys still have a few hours left before they have to head back to The Rock for the game, so you all opted to hang out and watch TV before then so they could relax. You were pressed into Jack’s side, his arm slung around the back of the couch as they talked.

It was the small moments like this that made you feel like Jack liking you back was possible. The way that he would pull you back close to him if you scooted even an inch away from him. The way that he would subconsciously trace patterns on your skin because he had to keep himself occupied in some sort of way. It made you feel hopeful, but you were quick to bring yourself back to the heart shattering reality that it meant nothing to him.

To Jack, though, these moments were everything.

-

“Y/N,” Jack’s voice was soft as he knocked on your door, “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” You called out, filtering through your clothes to find something to wear tonight.

Jack was anxious; his heart beating out of his chest and hands slightly shaking as he walked into your room with a piece of fabric in his grasp. He had a jersey with his own name and number on the back , and he was going to ask you if you would wear it tonight. He wanted something that labeled you as his even if you weren’t. Yet.

“What’s up,” You turned to face him, eyes briefly darting down to the jersey in his hand.

“I know you wear just a plain jersey to the games because you don’t want me or Luke to feel left out, but do you maybe want to wear my jersey tonight? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to! Actually, you know what- forget I asked. It was stupid,” Jack rushed out, panic clearly written everywhere on his body as he started to rush away.

“Jack,” You grabbed his hand before he could run away, “I would love to wear your jersey.” You’re not quite sure what exactly possessed Jack to give you one of his jerseys, but you were absolutely not going to say no. To you, the gesture meant everything. A step in the right direction.

Jack searched your face for any sort of doubt, but all he saw was the same small smile and sparkling eyes he saw every time he looked at you. Every part of him wanted nothing more than to kiss you and tell you that he was yours and you were his. Not Mat Barzal’s.

Painfully aware of how close the two of you were, butterflies swarmed your stomach. The way he was looking at you made your heart soar into the clouds and hope filled your veins as you let yourself drift to the possibility that maybe he did feel the same way you had for the last few years. 

“You better get going. Don’t want you to be late,” You whispered, suddenly feeling sheepish because you swear you saw his eyes glance at your lips for a few seconds.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll see you at the game.” With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he was out the door, leaving you there to overthink the entire interaction.

-

You and Trevor had found your seats, and it was just the two of you since Ellen and Jim were at Quinn’s game. You watch as the team warms up, and, no matter how hard you tried not to, you found yourself mainly focusing on Jack. The way he glides across the ice never fails to amaze you. He belongs out there.

“Nice jersey,” Trevor commented, eyes staying trained on the ice with a sly smirk on his face.

“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes, “He asked me if I wanted to wear it so I said yes, but I’m not sure why- Oh my god, look! It’s Mat!” You gripped Trevor’s bicep as you squealed and subtly pointed at the man who just stepped out onto the ice. 

“That’s why,” He shook his head, “Your comment about how sexy Barzy is made him all jealous and moody.”

“Oh, whatever. He doesn’t care about that,” You dismissed as you broke away from the teams to look at Trevor.

“Is that why he’s looking at him like he wants to slam him into the boards before the game even starts,” He nodded his head towards Jack.

Jack had looked in your direction as soon as he heard the Isles come out, and he wished that he hadn’t. The way your face lit up as you pointed at Barzal made his skin crawl and his chest burn with jealousy. He was standing off to the side with Nico as he tried to go over some of their game plans, but his eyes were now focused on number 13 on the opposing team. He tried to not let his personal life interfere with what he did on the ice, but he’s not so sure that was possible tonight.

The first period was aggressive, to say the least. The Devils were down by one and Jack spent his fair share of time in the sin bin for boarding a certain Isles player. Luckily, all of his penalties were minors so he was still able to play in the game, but you’re not so sure the refs would keep letting him off if he continued the stunts he was pulling.

“Trevor,” Your voice was laced with anxiety as Luke pulled Jack away before he initiated an actual fight and got another penalty. You know hockey is an aggressive sport, but you’ve never seen Jack play like this.

“It’s okay. It’s not all his fault,” He tried to comfort you as your grip on his hand tightened, “They’re starting to play just as dirty. Hopefully intermission will calm everyone down.”

You nervously bit at your nails and lip throughout the rest of the game. Both teams were still being unnecessarily hostile, but it wasn’t as bad as the first period. In the end, Jack managed to get the winning shot, and the cheers that erupted shook The Rock. You threw your arms around Trevor's neck as you let out a breath of relief; thankful that the agonizingly long game ended in their favor.

You and Trevor waited for both Hughes boys, talking about what exactly the plan was going to be tonight. He, of course, wanted to go out and celebrate their win, but you weren’t entirely sure if the boys would still be up for it after the game that they had. Players startled to slowly trickle out of the locker room; most of them stopping to talk to Trevor before they went on their way.

You were engrossed in a conversation with Dawson and Trevor when Luke finally came out of the locker room. He makes a playful glance at your jersey, wiggling his eyebrows as you ignore him and ask him about how he feels like the game went. He goes on about how he wasn’t super proud of their performance due to the obvious, but he was happy that they came out on top despite that. You beamed about how proud you are of him, and then you saw Jack coming out of the locker room.

His damp hair stuck to his forehead and you could see the faint start of a nasty bruise on his left cheek. He looked defeated and annoyed, and that was enough to tell you that he got an earful from Lindy and the media asked the wrong questions. He hated talking to them in general, and he especially hated it when he played like he did. You wanted nothing more than to pull him in and comfort him like you used to often, before Luke moved in.

With an encouraging shove from Luke, you met Jack in the middle and immediately pulled him into your chest. He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer than you already were. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, wanting the moment to last forever if it was possible. You didn’t mind the wetness on your skin, but the way Jack was hugging you was not making anything easy for you. He held you like you were the only thing grounding him to Earth.

“You played like shit,” You quietly teased as you forced yourself to pull away from him before you read too much into it.

“Maybe, but we still beat ‘em. Guess Barzal isn’t that great after all,” He slightly puffed his chest out before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and walking to the others.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his last comment, and it made you wonder if you saying that you found Mat Barzal attractive really did upset him. After the way he played towards him, it would make perfect sense. Still, you can’t piece together just why that would bother him enough to make him let it out on the ice like that. You weren’t naive enough to believe that it meant that Jack was jealous because he had feelings for you. You’re positive that it was something else. It had to be.

After everyone had agreed on a bar to meet up at, they all went separate ways to go back home and quickly change. You and the boys knew you were going to go out already, so you were all dressed and ready to go. Once you were in the car, you peeled the Devil’s jersey off you to reveal the red tank top underneath.

“Damn girl,” Trevor whistled, eyes shamelessly darting down to your exposed cleavage.

You playfully smacked him in the chest and rolled your eyes, neatly folding the jersey and placing it in the middle seat of the car. Jack cast a stormy glare back at Trevor, who shrugged and gave his best friend an innocent smile.

“Bye, Lukey,” You leaned over the center console to kiss his cheek, “Next year you can join us and not have to be the driver.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He rolled his eyes, “Give’s me time to sleep without you all bothering me. Have fun and call me if you need me to come get you.”

The three of you pushed your way into the loud and crowded bar. Jack quickly announced that he was going to hit the bathroom and he would meet the two of you at the bar. You gently held the back of Trevor’s shirt as he led you through the horde of people. You got the bartender's attention and ordered a round of shots for the three of you, but when you had turned back to Trevor, he was already engaged in a flirty conversation with a pretty blonde girl. 

Letting out a quiet chuckle, you moved your attention back to the bar. You waited a few more minutes for Jack to come back, but he had yet to make his reappearance. Deciding you were going to see if you could spot him, you placed your hands on the sticky counter, feet planting themselves on the footrest of the barstool to stand and look around the bar. Your eyes bounced across the sea of people in search of Jack, but when your eyes landed on him you felt the entire floor come out from underneath you.

There he was; leaning against a wall with his stupid bright, perfect smile plastered on his face as a girl animatedly talked to him. Every breath you took as you watched them felt like razor blades slicing into every inch of your body and your heart ached like it never had before. Blinking back a wave of tears, you downed the three shots in front of you. They were slightly warm, but the burning sensation they brought to you was a feeling you welcomed with open arms.

“Woah there, Y/N,” Nico’s deep, slightly accented voice cut through the loud music.

“Nico,” You cheered, pulling him into your side for a hug, “You did so good tonight.”

“Thank you,” He lightly laughed, hand staying on your back to steady you as you teetered on the stool, “Your boy was playing a little dirty tonight.”

Nico didn’t miss the way you stiffened at the mention of Jack, and he pulled his brows together in confusion. He had seen the two of you in an intimate hug right before he had left, so he assumed that things had developed between the two of you. While you ordered another two shots, the captain looked around for his teammate. He let out an understanding breath once he found him, still in deep conversation with the girl you had seen.

“Y/N,” Nico tried, “Are you o-”

“I’m going to dance,” You interrupted before he could ask the one question that was certainly going to bring you to tears.

Nico sighed, but he had been around you enough to know that you were not the type of person to push. That was a recipe for disaster. Instead, he opted to keep a close eye on you in case something were to happen. 

You lost count of how many drinks you had at about five drinks, but you’re certain that you were past your limit. Sweat covered bodies bumped into your own as you danced to the loud music, ignoring the bleeding pain in your chest. You refused to look in Jack’s direction for the rest of the night, fearful that what you saw was going to further break you. 

Eventually, you got tired of everyone bumping into you as you danced, so you climbed up onto a table that was littered with half full glasses and empty beer cans. You closed your eyes and let the music guide your body, hips swaying and hands salaciously running the curves of your body.

“Y/N,” A familiar voice yelled over the music, their hand coming to grasp your calf, “Get your drunk ass down!”

You looked down and met Trevor’s worried gaze, though he was quite a bit blurry courtesy of the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed. Shaking your head at him, you continued dancing and ignored his continuous calls for you to come down from the table. It wasn’t until you heard the one person you were trying to forget that you stopped your movements.

The way Jack was looking up at you with anxiety swirling in his eyes made you want to scream. He had no right to be concerned about when he was the cause of it. Though, he had no idea that he was.

“Y/N,” Jack repeated, taking note of the drunken glare you gave him, “Please come down.”

You tore your glossy eyes away from him, and held your hand out to Trevor so he could help you down from the table. Jack felt his heart crack at your blatant dismissal of him, but he tried to not let it get to him because he knew you were drunk. Still, he hated how you latched onto Trevors side, leaning your head on his chest as he steadied you. He was always the one you clung too, and he doesn’t like the way it feels to be on the outside of that.

“We should call Luke, yeah,” Trevor suggested as he soothingly rubbed your arm, “You need to get home.”

“I can call him and we can go back together,” Jack was quick to offer himself up. 

“No,” You moaned out, shaking your head against Trevor’s chest, “I don’t wanna be around you.”

Jack’s already cracked heart completely shattered inside his chest, the sting from it bleeding into his veins. The despondent look that was slapped on his face would have been enough to send you to your knees had you been looking at him, but you knew better than that. You knew that you would cave in to Jack like you always did, but that’s not what you needed. It was clear that you were never going to have him the way you wanted, and you needed to forget him. Even if it was just for a night. 

“Jack,” Trevor sighed, his own chest burning for his best friend, “I texted Luke before I came to get her and he should be here soon. I’ll make sure she gets to him, okay?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, all Jack could manage was a nod and move out of the way so Trevor could guide you out of the bar. His entire heart left with you, and he was left staring at the floor wondering what had happened for you to not want to be around him. In order to keep himself from crying in front of his teammates, he made a beeline for the bar to get drinks of his own.

The first thing you felt the following morning was the deadly pounding in your head, and you prayed to any God that would listen that you could just go back to sleep for the rest of your life. Your head was shoved underneath your pillow as you attempted to push back the consistent waves of nausea, but the feeling grew. Before you could truly comprehend what was going on, you were on your feet and darting to the bathroom.

“Y/N,” Trevor called from the other side of the bathroom door, “I’m coming in.”

You tossed him a bleary look as he walked in with a cup of water in hand. The pitiful smile he gave you in return surely would have made you vomit again had you not already emptied all the contents of your stomach. You could see the apprehension clearly arranged on his face.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You mumbled against your arm that was acting as a barrier between your face and the toilet.

“I didn’t even say anything,” He let out an airy laugh as he searched through the cabinets for some Advil, “Since you brought it up, though...”

“Trevor,” You warned, trying to give him a mean glare, but it hurt your head too much to strain that hard.

Despite how much you drank last night, you were still excruciatingly aware of what had caused you to get that way. The feeling that consumed your entire being when you saw Jack with that girl was still something that was eating away at your heart. You knew that your emotions were going to get the better of you one day, but nothing could have prepared you for when it did.

“Take these,” He ordered, “What happened last night? I’ve never seen you like that, especially not towards Jack. I don’t care that you don’t want to talk about it. If you don’t, you’ll let it take over and you’ll fall into the same hole you did when Trent broke up with you.”

You knew that he was right, but it still annoyed you that Trevor Zegras, of all people, was right. You also knew that he was going to see through any lie you told him. In spite of his reputation, he was a very observant and caring person, especially when it cameto the ones he loved.

 “I saw Jack with some girl last night. That’s all there is to say, really. You know how I feel about him, so it just really sucked. And I guess I let myself read too much into certain situations,” You admitted, taking the pills in hopes that they would help the headache subside.

He sharply sucked in a breath, understanding washing over his body like a wave. He knew the girl you were talking about; Jack had mentioned something about him being ambushed by the bathrooms. She was going on about how her girlfriend was one of his biggest fans, and then Jack had somehow, yet unsurprisingly, managed to bring you up in the conversation. He had told Trevor that the girl made fun of Jack for being a little bitch and not telling you how he feels, which Trevor happily agreed with.

“Y/N,” He sighed, squatting so he was eye level with you, “You need to go talk to him, and don’t say no. It will be better, for both of you, if you talk to each other. Watching the both of you pine over each other is really grinding my gears.”

After a not so lengthy argument with Trevor, partly because he just kept repeating himself and partly because you were too tired to argue, your feet were gently padding down the hall to Jack’s room. Your breathing was quick and uneven as you anxiously squeezed your hands together, moreso the closer you got to him. Taking a deep breath, you gently rapped your knuckles on his door.

“Go away, Trevor,” His voice was muffled, quiet, and defeated.

“Jack,” You softly called as you opened your door and peeked your head in.

“Y/N,” You watched as he jumped up in his bed, pillow falling off the bed and blanket pooling around his waist, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just- Can I come in?”

He eagerly nodded his head, scooting back so he was leaning against the headboard. Trying to keep your eyes from wandering his naked chest was proving difficult the closer you got to him. It felt highly inappropriate given the circumstances. The air was awkward and sticky as you took a seat on the edge of his bed, and you hated that. Things should never be like this with Jack.

Jack knew you so well and he had spent so much time memorizing everything about you that it wasn’t hard to tell that you were nervous, and exhausted. Your lip was red from chewing on it and the skin below your hand was irritated from you pinching yourself, both nervous habits you’ve had as long as he’s known you. However, you also had dark, stormy clouds of exhaustion hanging over you. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his bed and hold you until you fell asleep. 

“How are you feeling,” He asked, eyes flitting from your face to his lap.

“Honestly, I feel like I got hit by a bus,” You laughed, feeling some of the nerves dissipate, “But, I wanted to talk about something. Well, Trevor’s forcing me to do it, but I also think we should talk about it.”

Jack’s already high anxiety skyrocketed. He has no idea what you were going to say, and that terrified him. His mind wandered to the worst possibilities, all of which involved you telling him that you were leaving and never wanted to see him again. He’s not sure he would be able to survive that blow.

“What’s up,” He played it cool as if his heart wasn’t beating so hard and fast that he thought it was going to burst out of his chest.

“I want you to listen to me entirely before you say anything okay,” You started, tucking a leg underneath your thigh as you turned to fully face him. You continued after he gave you a shy nod, “I’m really sorry about last night. About telling you I didn’t want to be around you. I was upset, and hurt. I was waiting for you at the bar and you were taking a while, so I tried to look for you.

“And I saw you talking to a girl by the bathrooms, and I guess I got a little jealous. I got jealous because I- I don’t know, it’s kind of obvious why, Jack. I let my emotions get to me and I reacted terribly, I’m sorry. And it’s okay that you don’t feel the same way that I feel. Just promise me it won’t change our friendship?”

His heart, still beating erratically, was doing flips inside his chest as he let your words fully soak in. Jack knew he wasn’t a Harvard scholar, but it didn’t take much to figure out you were saying you had feelings for him without actually saying it. All those hours of Trevor trying to convince Jack that you liked him back flooded his memory, and he felt stupid for not believing him. Now Trevor was kind of an airhead, but if something was that obvious to him, Jack should have known it was true. 

The silence that hung in the air was daunting, but you were giving him time to think about what you had said to him. Springing a half-assed love confession on someone who looked just as hungover as you were probably wasn’t the best idea, but it was Trevor’s so it made sense. You refused to make eye contact with Jack as he, presumably, found a way to gently let you down. You decided to focus on picking at your fingers while you waited, a habit you thought you had broken

“I was jealous too, you know,” He started, moving his body so he was sitting in the same position as you. He delicately took your hands in his own before you picked so hard you drew blood.

“Of what,” You frowned.

“The whole Barzal thing. You said you thought he was hot, and I guess I got a little insecure because he is an attractive guy,” He explained, his voice laced with apprehension, “Trevor and Luke kept talking about how you’re in love with him or whatever, and then I saw how excited you got when he got on the ice and I don’t know. It really bothered me.

“And the girl at the bar? We were only talking because she said her girlfriend was a big fan, and then I started talking about you, like I always do. She basically told me I was a pussy for not telling you how I felt, and she’s right.”

You snapped your gaze to meet his own, and you knew you were royally screwed. He was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon, and it was in that moment you realize that he’s looked at you like that for a while. You were just too naive, and scared, to let yourself believe it was anything other than friendship.

“I love you, Y/N, and not in just a friend way but an “I-want-you-to-be-my-girlfriend” way. And I really want to kiss you.”

“So do it.”

In an instant, he was pulling you into him, his soft lips meeting your own in a messy kiss. You moved your hands to the nape of his neck, fingers carding into his hair as he pulled you onto his lap. His hands found place on your lower back, scared to wander any further out of fear of making you uncomfortable, but you had waited far too long for this moment for him to not explore whatever he wanted. However, the sound of Jack’s door opening caused the two of you to separate your mouths.

“Are you two going to come ea- Oh my god! They’re having sex,” Trevor screamed, quickly turning around and slamming the door shut, “Luke! Don’t go in there!”

Jack’s forehead fell to your shoulder as he let out an amused, “Fucking Trevor.” (iykyk lmao)

“You know, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but we actually owe him,” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Yes you do!”

“Go away!”

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Charles/Max AUs

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On the Ice by @f1tyreslightmyfyre | T | 5.5k Max is a hockey player, and Charles is a figure skater! Cue a lot of teasing and romance. This was so cute!!! I absolutely loved the teasing and the dynamics between Charles and Max. So much fluff! It was also based off of an artwork in the community that everyone needs to see too!

'Max knows that he probably stares like a lovesick puppy, but who can blame him? “Am I dreaming?” He says by way of greeting. “Or is that you, pretty boy?” Charles doesn’t quite roll his eyes as he scoffs in amusement. “Yeah, of course, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” He skates in a lazy, easy circle around Max. “I know I’m irresistible, but I know you can do it.”'

nsfw: chemical (can't let go) by @alphatinies | E | 8k Max is in a club bathroom when suddenly, his rut hits. It turns out– his ex, Charles, is willing to help him through it. Even if they broke up 3 months ago. I really loved the A/B/O dynamics! It was a fantastic read and I love the raw dialogue and want that Max has for Charles. Nothing is ever really over!

'They broke up three months ago. Coming here is not only humiliating, but also stupid—they haven’t talked since the break-up, agreed on a clean cut, pretending not to know each other whenever their friend circles happen to cross paths. They’re mature about it. Mostly.'

all this happened, more or less by @lightningmickqueen | ? | 10.3k In lockdown, a popstar named Escalier Des Fleurs has taken storm. It turns out he's a familiar face: Charles Leclerc. And– he's singing about his crush, Max Verstappen. I loved this fic so much! It was one of my first fics I read when I was introduced to the F1 fandom. It's such an adorable story, and is very very VERY reminiscent of Hannah Montana. Read if you want a fluffy, angsty with a happy ending story!!!

'i am having the hardest time processing the fact that the ferrari strategy team cannot put together a strategy but charles leclerc can have two successful and unrelated careers #his team doesn’t know the weather #meanwhile charles is in the car writing a song in his head that will go on to be one of the best selling songs of all time #WITCHCRAFT'

Story of Our Lives by Eviestappen, footysel | G | 16.3k When Charles and Max meet when they are kids, they are both drawn to football. Charles' assists and Max's goals are teamwork at its best. But when Max has to move back to Belgium, they're torn apart. However, life throws them for a loop, and they are reunited again and again. I love a good childhood friends to lovers arc! Plus, this taught me so much about football terminology. It's literally Lestappen IRL but with football instead! Adorable must-read!

When the final whistle blew, they all collapsed onto their knees, shedding a few tears of happiness as they once again crowded the dutch boy. They sang cheers in his honor, hoisting him high up in the air during the trophy presentation.  For the first time in my life, it's all so clear. I feel calm like I belong. I'm so happy here. Just as it had been all season, Charles picked up the ‘star of the match’ award posing alongside Max, who had received the ‘player of the tournament’ trophy. The two young boys, predictably future stars, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

nsfw: noir désir by @alphatinies | E | 24k Max moves in with Charles and Pierre. Charles is an artist struggling with inspiration, which he happens to find in Max. There is a lot of longing in this fic which I love, it’s practically palpable. Charles especially struggles with his desire for max as he has a lot of history with Pierre. The mix of it being a character study and exploration, but also having good plot progression was absolutely amazing. One of my absolute favourites and made me feel many emotions. This fic is what AUS23 (1:1) sounds like.

'The desire hasn’t dissipated by the time they pull apart. Charles almost expects there to be a moment of clarity, to realise what he’s done—but that doesn’t come. When Max pulls away, Charles could still drown in his eyes, yearning to taste him again, and he does, leaning forward to press their mouths together. He kisses him eagerly, like he’s trying to prove a point—he wants this just as much as Max does, he can’t stop thinking about him in a way that he hopes is reciprocated, he wants him.'

glitch by @nyoomfruits | T | 26.5k Max is a webmaster at a fashion magazine, and an F1 fan. He has a meet-cute with driver Charles in the elevator at when Charles turns up for a photoshoot. It's love at first sight for Charles. I love an office romance and I guess this was half of one. Max is so not interested at first but Charles is charming and persistent-but-not-pushy and the developing relationship is sweet and unhurried. The fic deals with the realities of dating a famous person when you value privacy. The peanut gallery/Greek chorus provided by Daniel and Lando is hilarious and very in character.

'Daniel opens his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but then he looks at the coffee cup and frowns. “Uh,” he says, pointing at the cup and looking up at Max. “Where’s the rest of it?” Max pulls a face. “Soaking into the shirt of two time Formula One World Driver Champion Charles Leclerc.” “What,” Daniel says, as Lando pops his head over the divider with a gleeful look on his face. “Oh this sounds like it’s going to be good,” he says, as he catches the red bull can Max throws him one handed. “What happened?” Max sighs. “I ran into him in the elevator. Literally. Then I told him he was braking too early on turn 11 yesterday and that’s probably why he lost, and he just kept staring at me, so I kind of panicked, and got out of the elevator three floors too early.” “You are a gift to this earth,” Lando says, sighing delightedly as Daniel howls with laughter next to him. “Like who the fuck does that? Meets one of their favorite drivers and then tells them their braking is shit. Truly, only you. I’m so glad we are friends.” “Max, Maxy, never change,” Daniel says, trying to catch his breath. “God I wish I could have been there.” “You,” Max says, pointing between the two of them with his Red Bull can. “Both suck.” “What was he even doing here?” Lando asks, as Daniel wipes the tears from the corners of his eye. “No clue,” Max says, with a shrug. “Didn’t think to ask.” “Too busy insulting his braking,” Daniel says, sending himself off into another peel of laughter.'

no brakes on by @drivestraight | T | 32.5k Max is a Red Bull driver, but Charles is a (surprisingly good) actor. After a not-so-good meet-cute, they're suddenly drawn together after having to make amends for PR. I love AUs where half of a pair is still a driver yet the other doesn't have to do anything with racing at all! The fic deals with the perils of being famous and always in the spotlight while dealing with romance. And, Sebastian is still driving for Ferrari!

'Real. That’s—that’s a hard concept. For most of Max’s life, the past, the present, the future; what was in front of him and what was merely a dream he was running toward, they blended together. He spent seventeen years, even the years he can’t remember, working at his dream, then all of a sudden, it was his reality. Fast forward seven years he was a champion, everything he wanted to be but wasn’t sure if he would ever be. It’s just—everything has moved so fast. Max can’t tell real from unreal anymore. He wants to rest, wants to live in the moment, but the moment is—it keeps moving. It keeps escaping him. He isn’t sure where it is, isn’t sure where he is. What is real, what is not. Max feels like he could wake up one day, twelve years old again, strapped into his go-kart in pouring Holland rain, trying to find grip where there wasn’t, thinking of better things and a brighter future.'

nsfw: give me that fire by Lady_Something | E | 40k Chef!au, Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. Exes to lovers. To be honest working in a restaurant sounds like a nightmare but for some reason I love reading stories with this setting. This fic was an emotional rollercoaster in the best way, at times I was near tears and had completely given up on a happy ending but the lovely lady_something brought it all together in a both happy and realistic ending. If you like well written and delightfully flawed characters dealing with complicated relationships and grief, this is a fic for you! Trigger warning for death of a pet!

'“Charles, I just spent the last four years thinking I’d lost you forever. That I’d ruined not just the best relationship I would ever have, but the best friendship as well. If there is even the slightest chance that I can earn back enough of your trust for you to give me another chance, I will do whatever you want.” Charles chews on his bottom lip, his cheeks flushing beautifully. “That’s a lot of power to give somebody over you,” Charles says slowly, twisting the fork in his hand nervously. “I trust you,” Max answers immediately. “You probably shouldn’t,” he says softly. “I still haven’t forgiven you for not wanting me to go to Arthur.” Max wonders what Charles might make him do, if he were feeling vindictive. He’s never been on the receiving end of Charles’ pettiness, not really—except when he’d sabotaged Max’s serving to the Michelin Inspectors in Paris—but he’s seen it. When they were kids, he’d seen it a lot. He’d always thought it was funny, that Max had a reputation amongst their peers for being aggressive—but Max had always known that Charles was really the unhinged one between them.'

Of Shadow by racingline | M | 46k Charles Leclerc is a typical college student. Except, it turns out, none of what he knows is true: he's stuck in a universe where racing, his family, and the people he love don't exist. This is one of my all-time favorite magical realism fics! It's crazy, each chapter had me so hooked and wanting to know what happens next constantly. I loved it so much and the universe.

'Charles’ brain is still an echo of modena yellow and rosso corsa, the sounds of the factory and the smells of winter in Italy a vibrant flurry against the flat backdrop of his reality. He thinks of Maranello and Ferrari, the uneasy whine of Jules’ Renault when he revved the engine too high at every red light on the drive back to Monaco like each one was the start of a race. He thinks of the Academy–of Jules, who was the first one to be signed, and of himself, the first to make it all the way through. He thinks of the garage, more an artists’ studio than a factory. He thinks of Enzo and the son he lost too soon. He thinks, amo pensare che la Ferrari puo costruire piloti tanto quanto macchine, and he thinks, ask a child to draw a car and certainly he’ll draw it red. He thinks of mistaking the Italian anthem for that of his own country; he thinks of the scuderia in all its infallible, divine contradictions; its hopes and heartbreaks interlinked in an endless chain.'

nsfw: The Things You Do by loveleclerc | E | 71.9k Dutch mafia boss Max meets Charles in a strip club, where the latter formally works. After Charles decides to steal his wallet and go on a shopping spree, Max finds him, and lots of teasing ensues. Plus, Max is practically Charles' sugar daddy. This was genuinely so captivating and so hot. The plot was so insanely well-written and made me want to keep coming back! I read this on a plane ride and it made the time fly.

'“The quiet only lasted so long. Shouting in Italian and Dutch soon erupted from somewhere in the house along with gunfire that made Charles flinch, covering his ears while he squeezed his eyes shut. What the fuck had his life become?”'

nsfw: grapefruit mignonette by slapshots | E | 73.6k Max is an esteemed chef working under Christian Horner and Charles is an part-time server and architecture student. It turns out, tension does wonders for attracting the two together. So much food imagery! God, when I was reading this, I got so hungry. The descriptions were so lovely! And, I love any restaurant AUs. The characters were so funny and I loved their attitudes.

“Charles, this is our Executive Chef Max,” Christian said, picking up the fork and digging into it. “Charles just moved from –“ “France,” Max said. “Monaco,” Charles corrected. “Monaco is in France.” “I assure you, Chef, that Monaco is its own country.”

mr. invisible and the thing by @chubbydino | M | 97k A soulmate AU where Charles is a mechanic and Max is Daniel's agent. But– Max doesn't believe in soulmates, and Charles is struggling to cope. I love this fic so much! I reread the whole fic every update. Slow burn and soulmates are some of my favorite AUs and it's a fantastic read with some of the best writing in the fandom.

'Max hated the person his life had been mangled with. He referred to him as The Thing, because Max considered him more demon than anything else. Soulmates—he hated that term, but he had no other one to use in conversation—seemed awfully similar to demonic possession. The Thing certainly haunted him. The Thing seemed to like every kind of food Max hated. Every morning, Max tasted frothed milk and espresso when he woke up. Every morning, it made him gag. The Thing also liked French Onion soup during winter (palatable), mango in summer (chalky), and some vile kind of meat in the fall. The Thing lived in Europe somewhere, Max guessed. The Thing woke up at dawn and didn’t sleep until dark. The Thing’s schedule made it nearly impossible for Max to nap—and Max loved to nap. The Thing was also scared of cars. Max couldn’t describe how he knew, but the sound of a Formula 1 car always made him nervous the first time he heard it on race weekend, distant terror echoing in his bones. Further proof that the system was flawed—no soulmate of his would be scared of what he'd devoted his whole life to.'

thank you to @blueballsracing, @maaxverstappen, & @lydia-petze for compiling this list 💝

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt2 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

After a recurring nightmare, you and Sam decide to open the shop early...only to have an early arriving customer.

Part 1, part 3

Oh, the boy's a slag, the best you ever had

The best you ever had is just a memory and those dreams

Weren't as daft as they seem, not as daft as they seemed

My love, when you dream them up

You awoke with a jolt at your alarm, the cursed song striking once more before you could silence your phone. As you sit up the irony is not lost on you. Your dreams of late had been haunted by the caricature of your ex, some cartoon evil laugh chasing with the constant ringing of your phone. The dreams always ended the same, except for this last night:

He was upon you in a moment, clawed hand reaching up your leg. You kick and kick but the words never escape your sewn mouth. The words of your ex-coworker swarm you like angry flies, bold and ugly.

“Disgraceful”

“Stepped over for the CEO’s daughter”

“They were shoddy anyway…”

The voices all fade into your ex’s final words to you: “I never loved you anyway.”

That crushed your heart into ash and scattered it into the indifferent winds. But before he could drag you back, a shape formed in your conscience. Heavy boot steps silence the laughter and a large figure passes in your peripheral vision. In the haze of your dream, he passes the shelves, the bookstore emerging from the darkness to surround your ex and the harpies. 

Your panic slows in the familiar setting and with a kick you send your ex stumbling backward. Turning your face up from the hardwood floor you look towards the figure as the haze clears. It's a man, tall and in black, just browsing but something draws your eye. And as you feel yourself awaken his eyes, hardwood and honey, meet yours. 

You hear shuffling before there is a knock on your door. You call him in and Sam’s head pops in. Green eyes hidden behind black curls meet yours and he pauses upon seeing your slouched shoulders.

“Nightmare again?” He kicks a pair of jeans aside and enters your room.

You stand, make your bed swiftly, and turn to address him in the glory of your Rainbow Fish Pajamas. 

“Yeah, except there was a man this-”

“You got Soap on the brain again?” It comes out immediately and you flush before rushing forward to hit your older brother figure. He was and wasn't wrong. In the following weeks after Soap’s initial visit you found yourself developing a steady friendship with the Scot, who insisted on dropping in every other day. It started with recommendations but quickly turned into shared tea over book conversations. You learned a little about him in the meantime, finding out he worked as a bartender literally down the street from your little shop. The convenience of his closeness and his ease of personality found you a fast and steady friend. 

“-despite your obvious stupidity, no I do not like him!” You huffed, and it was true! Soap was handsome but in truth, you believed that one he was in a relationship and second he was better as a prospective friend. 

Sam grins, dodging your poor attempt to smack him as he spins out of your room,

“He is hot though, poor lad probably gets hit on every shift. Remember we promised to visit on Saturday night! Come on let's open up the store early. I have a good feeling about today!” And with a clap of his hands for you to hurry he closes your door, exiting down the hall towards the kitchen. In a moment you can hear him lighting the stove to make breakfast. 

In the resulting silence, you dress yourself, passing a reflection of yourself in the mirror and choosing to ignore it. Your laptop sits beside your current project: A Smith Corona Corsair, one of the few possessions you had brought with you. The typewriter was the start of your writing career and you kept it well-tuned for work. 

You run a soft hand over its polished ivory keys. The mint blue of the case had a few scratches but was mostly worn from love. You remember as a child hammering on the keys, which graduated into a curiosity for mechanical machines and writing. The stone kept tumbling after you finished your Master’s in English and first stepped into the editing business. In the topsy-turvy world you found yourself in a comfortable position as an editor for a company, a year in deciding to write your books and the rest was history. 

You close the typewriter and quickly change into a manageable but comfy outfit then head out into the hall. Closing your door, you head down the hallway of your small flat, passing photos from back home with Sam. Taking a right you pass into the open concept of the apartment (Sam’s room was straight across the hall from yours). You pad softly on the carpet, stepping onto the rug and into the kitchen where Sam is making breakfast. He flips a pancake as bacon sizzles on the griddle. Running a hand to his shoulder you lean over to see how it was coming, sufficiently satisfied at his improving cooking skills.

“You are learning well”

“I get it from the best” he replies pulling you in for a small hug and a kiss to the side of your head. He releases you at the ding of 8 am on the clock. 

“You want breakfast up here?” You hover over the cabinet of plates, proceeding to pull two out for the food with silverware following. 

“Nah, let's just open shop, I'll eat in the sitting area before cleaning the book return. Can you take the counter today?”

You nod and shift aside so he can plate the food. The Ghibli style meal looks filling and you sigh, you go to take a swipe at the fresh pancakes but Sam dances aside.

“Wait till we’re downstairs.” He follows it up by gathering the silverware and heading towards the stairs. You pout and go to open the door for him and proceed to follow him down the hardwood stairs.

---

You set up post at the counter by 8:11, a plate of food set aside the stack of holds. Some paperbacks gleam with a glossy finish, while other hardbacks are nice with matte coats. Before your eye moves away you catch the shine of antiqued gold. You gently move the top books aside to grab the fabric-bound hardback: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne.  It looked to be a 50s-60s American release, bound with an inner marbled coat of paper and inlaid with gold foil lettering. The deep aqua of the fabric was barely worn, you wondered if the book had ever been read at all with the great condition it was in. You looked inside the cover for a name but on a a shibu inu shaped sticky note were the initials S.R.

Huh, that's interesting. You ran a hand over the scripting, it wasn't Sam nor your handwriting. You shrug. They must be regular then. You and Sam had a ‘write and set aside’ policy in the store. 

It was an unspoken rule amongst the two of you (and the regulars) that if a book turned up on the counter like this, with a name, it was put ‘on hold’. You set the beautiful book aside with a final glance, then turned your attention to breakfast. 

After finishing your meal you opened the doors to the bookstore at an early 8:34 am. Turning back to the counter you head over and hook your phone up to the music. You flip through Your Love first then frown, the implications of the song a bit much, next Jessie’s Girl. At Rick Springfield’s voice, you sigh, flashes of the girl your ex dumped, and you turn the song again. Then finally the sweet guitar riff and a beat that puts you on your toes kicks up. From the back of the shelves, Sam's head full of hair pokes out.

“It's been a while since we've had a Bowie day!”

You smile back at him as Modern Love kicks up. You sway from around the corner and flip the sign to open, you turn on the neon sign and turn to go stock the sitting area when there’s an immediate ding of the bell as someone enters. You turn around as Sam calls a Welcome in from the back of the store. The first sight that hits you is a literal wall of a man, then there is the smell of worn leather and pine. You step back with a small oh in surprise. 

He wears all black except for a pair of well-fitting jeans and leather boots. As your eyes trace up his tall figure you catch a snug shift with a leather jacket fitted over. Then a black surgical mask and…you freeze. Looking down at you with a slight sense of amusement are eyes the color of darkened honey. 

The man from your dream! But in the flesh and oh…

“I am so sorry!” You wave your hand in front of you a little shy to be caught staring.

The man offers no more than a slight nod with amusement dancing in his eyes. He regards you a moment before mentioning in a low voice, rough but soft:

“No worries dove.”

And with that he steps around you, brushing your arm with the slightest touch of leather, and disappears into the books.

You stand for a moment more before a blush runs up your face and a tingle runs down your spine.

Fuck.

END

I love writing this. I am no longer bored in the library thank you to these lovely people (Taglist!)

@ghostlythots

[czrpenters]

piercings | tara carpenter x reader

summary: you could be a little extra when it came to pleasing your girlfriend.

pairings: tara carpenter x fem!reader.

warnings: no scream vi spoilers, mention of needles and piercings. also, english is not my first language.

word count: 985 words.

masterlist. | request rules.

It wasn't fully your idea to get your nipples pierced after all. You saw Tara blushing while looking at some pretty suggestive pictures on her Tumblr the other day, and instead of being jealous like you usually would, you started wondering; is she really into that stuff at all?

The next day, you got an appointment at Woodsboro's local tattoo parlor. And oh god, it was more painful than to watch a dog die in an early 2000's movie. You literally felt your soul leave your body for some minutes, your skin had visible goosebumps all over it and the pain was bearing the unbearable. But damn, you looked hot. And you knew that Tara would love that.

She mentioned once or twice, as well. "Babe, would you think I'd look hot with my nipples pierced?". And you knew damn well that this was never going to happen due to her fear of needles, but a girl can dream, right? And Tara was about to have her dream come true that night.

--

"Baby, I'm home! Got us some chinese!" Tara shouted while entering your house, with some takeout in her hands. It was your usual friday night; your dad was a surgeon so he had to bear inhumane 48 hour-shifts on the weekends, which of course meant that you guys had the whole place to yourselves. You usually didn't do anything that crazy or teenage-like, you and Tara were really responsible for your age. The days were mostly spent by watching some movies, eating a bunch of junk food and a lot of sex. Nothing that a lesbian couple wouldn't do.

"I'm over here!" You shouted back in your bedroom, turning off your phone and waiting for your girl to come to you. Your chest was still a little bit sore, so laying on it was definetly not an option right now. Also, no bras for at least a whole week, but that was something you weren't really worried about. You wanted to show them off. You wanted her to see it.

Tara left all the bags filled with food on the kitchen counter, discarding her jacket and shoes before coming up the stairs to your bedroom. She was exceptionally tired today, to say the very least. Playing soccer was definitely not the best career choice and yet she still played it. Not for the sport itself, but the thrill to win. She was exhausted, so it was no surprise that she decided to fall on your bed like a dead corpse, without even looking straight at you. "M' tired as fuck."

She mumbled, in the cutest fucking way possible, which made you laugh. "I know, baby. You didn't have to bring us food, y'know? We could just order Postmates or something." You kissed her forehead, laying down with her but without hugging, you couldn't even dream of having your chest touch something other than the thin layer of fabric of your tank top.

"But it's our tradition, babe... I don't wanna be the one to break it." You almost didn't hear her muffled sore voice, and it made your heart flutter. She couldn't be real. "Why you're not hugging me?"

You knew that it wouldn't take long for her to notice that something was missing. She wasn't sure what, but she knew you better than that; she knew that the first thing you'd do was hug and kiss her right after practice, like always. But you didn't. She finally looked up with a puzzled look on her face. "Is there something wrong?"

"No baby, nothing is wrong... " You kissed her lips briefly, trying to reassure her that everything was fine. More than fine, actually. "It's just... I got a little surprise for you, that's all."

"Baaaaabe! You know that I hate and love surprises." She whined, jumping on the spot and sitting down while looking at you. Thankfully you were wearing a thin sweatshirt over your tank top, so she couldn't see what it was just yet. "Come on, tell me what it is."

"I will, I promise! Just... Close your eyes first, okay?" Before she could even start her sentence, you shushed her. Reluctantly, she closed her eyes, but you were directly looking at them to make sure she wouldn't peek. Carefully, you took your sweatshirt off, alongside with your white tank top. Your nipples were a little puffy still, more red than the usual. It felt like if Tara sucked the life out of them for at least a couple of hours, but instead of her usual bite marks, there was a silver jewelry on them.

You were so fucking excited and it took every inch of your soul to not blurb and tell her what it was before she could even see them. "Okay baby, open them now."

She did as she was told, and you swear to god that you saw some sparkles emerge from her eyes. You could almost feel her happiness, as if her mouth was watering like a boy seeing a pair of boobs for the first time. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Got them while you were at practice. Aren't they pretty?" They were two pieces of silver jewlery, the colour matching the necklace she got you with her initials on it. And oh boy, she was so turned on at that moment that she couldn't even form a sentence. "Didn't liked them?"

That was a rethorical question. You knew she loved them. And the fact that you had to wait at least 2 weeks for her to touch them was, to say the least, torturous. But before you could manage to think about anything else, you felt her lips against yours in a fervorous kiss. Her mouth tasted like cherry, and her kiss tasted like heaven. A piece of your own private paradise. "You really don't know the things I wanna do to you right now, (Y/N)."

"Show me then."

⠀

[discoscoob]

BOXER!JOHN WICK HEADCANONS

˙ ✩°˖🥊 ⋆｡˚ John Wick x Winston’s daughter!reader

I had so many ideas when I was making my bot I thought I should make some headcanons and share them. This is very quick and messy literally just straight from my head.

John was abandoned as a baby and grew up in an orphanage and had to quickly learn to fend for himself. To release pent up anger and frustrations, John often got into fights until one of the kinder members of staff introduced him to a local boxing club

John was around 17 years old when he met Winston, a boxing coach who had aspirations of being a boxer himself until his career was cut short by a bad injury, leaving him unable to fight professionally. Winston became a coach to help others achieve the dreams he once had

Winston immediately saw the potential in John and took him under his wing, becoming the closest thing John ever had to a father figure and Winston considered John a son

Under Winston’s guidance and mentorship, John turned from a troubled young man into a world famous champion boxer with an unbeaten record

With all the fame and attention John became a bit of a Casanova with all the fans and admirers he gained, he had a bit of a reputation but Winston was unconcerned with what John did with his private life as long as it didn’t distract from his career and it never did

Reaching 38, John knows that it’s time for him to retire, most professionals hang up their gloves by their mid thirties but his passion for the sport is still strong doesn’t know what he will have without boxing

It’s around this time you show up at Winston’s gym, a mysterious young woman claiming to be his long lost daughter, the product of some fleeting and messy relationship he had when he was in his 20s, you have plenty of facts and photos to prove your story legitimate and Winston accepts you with open arms, eager to make up for lost time

It’s not long before you meet his star fighter and you’re instantly drawn in by his natural charm that just seems to seep from his pores, when he talks to you, giving you his undivided attention, you feel like you’re the only person in the world

It’s not long before the pair of you develop feelings and act upon them

Sneaking around is thrilling and exciting, keeping your relationship a secret but it’s not easy

You’re both worried how Winston might take the news, considering the age difference and John’s reputation for being a bit of a lothario who has never committed to a serious relationship, considering boxing has always been his main focus

Although keeping up the facade that you’re both single comes with its downsides

Sometimes, after another victorious match, Winston will throw parties afterwards to celebrate and you watch from across the room glaring daggers at the many admires that surround John all wanting to congratulate them in their own way, thinking they stand a chance with him like they might have before he found you

In order to not raise suspicion, John entertains them to a certain extent but always makes up some excuse in the end to slip away from the party early and you follow soon after, eager to release your pent up jealousy

John always assures you there’s no one else, and it’s true, but keeping your relationship hidden takes it’s toll

When Winston does eventually find out, either because one of you accidentally lets it slip or catches you both or a sneaky paparazzi photographer gets a photo of you two kissing, he doesn’t take it too well at first

A mixture of wanting to protect you, the age difference, John’s lack of commitment to his previous relationships and his worry that the relationship is too similar to his past relationship with your mother and he doesn’t want to see this end in the same bitter way

But each day John spends with you, as he gets closer to retiring from the ring, his worry of what he will do when boxing is no longer his main focus begins to slowly fade as he realises you will be his focus

Eventually Winston comes around and although he already considered John to be like a son, it’s nice to have it made official when he becomes his son-in-law

[hauntedhokage]

it would've been sweet

Past!Sae Itoshi/F!Reader, Oliver Aiku/F!Reader

word count: 12.8k (fuck, i’m so sorry)

summary: You would never come before soccer. 

But you let yourself pretend that he was spending time with you because wanted to, not just because you were around and he was bored.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, unprotected sex, sae is terrible at feelings, rin is better but still bad

note: this is not a love triangle fic. kinda jumps around from “present day” which is about 3-4 years after where we currently are in the manga, right after Sae leaves for Spain, to the start of the manga when the blue lock program started. I tried to make it obvious where time settings changed without labeling but i know it’s different perspective wise since i literally wrote it. This is also based on my own personal canon that Rin softens up a bit as he gets older and that he and Sae never make up. 

[ao3][ko-fi]

“What do you think?” The question has you looking up from the mirror to where your boyfriend stands, dressed up and clean shaven, which has you tilting your head. “Is it bad? I tried to match your dress, and-“

“No, baby, it looks great! Just don’t recognize you when you don’t look scruffy.”

“The rugged look gets all the ladies,” he comments, coming closer to place a gentle kiss to your forehead as you sigh. “I know you hate these things, but I appreciate you going so we can suffer together.”

“Yeah yeah,” you mumble playfully, earning yourself a kiss. “You just like seeing me dressed up.”

“That’s just a bonus. You look just as beautiful when you just wake up, wearing my jersey, or naked, or-“

“Alright, lover boy. We’re going to make the car wait too long.” Your scolding has him helping you to your feet, mindful of the heels you had on as he guides you out of the bedroom of the hotel suite. It was going to be a long night of talking to soccer players, soccer executives, and their guests about soccer - your least favorite thing to talk about in detail. 

You honestly hate soccer. 

It was the source of heartbreak, your first and only, and you let the stupid sport continue to contribute to your emotional pain. Maybe you’re a masochist; continuing to surround yourself with the sport despite loathing it entirely, dating a man who played professionally, and wanted you at all of the events he could get you to. 

Supporting your best friend as he traversed professional soccer while hating what it had done to both of you. What it did to his brother to cause both of you the worst emotional pain of your lives. 

There are times when you think about Itoshi Sae, mostly when he comes across your television before you change the channel. He was once your best friend, with a chance that there could’ve been more had he not gone to Spain. But you’d never come before his soccer career and, at thirteen years old you couldn’t dream of asking him to stay. Not for you. All of Japan would have crucified you for trying to hold their treasure back from the greatness that came with the world stage. 

But that didn’t stop you from wishing things could’ve been like they were before. When you were both happy and he actually seemed like he enjoyed soccer and you enjoyed watching him. Back when he had appreciated you and your support, back before he went to Spain all those years ago. 

Time passes, though. He made his choices, destroyed his relationship with both you and his younger brother like it was nothing to him. Switched to midfield, changed his dreams, acted like you meant nothing to him. He was still revered on the international stage, still loved by Japan, and deep down perhaps you still loved him too. But that wasn’t something you had time to think about, you had a life to worry about. 

He certainly wasn’t thinking about you, why put energy into thinking about him?

It was easier to just say that you hated soccer, even though both you and Rin knew what that statement actually meant: you hated Itoshi Sae. 

You knew you’d never come before soccer, but still you felt special that Sae would make time for you between his busy soccer schedule. Granted most of that time was spent in school or just a half an hour before or after school, but it was still time he made to spend with you , specifically. He didn’t talk to just anyone, but he talked to you. A perk of being his neighbor since you were five, you supposed. 

Recovery days from the strict training regimen spent either at his house or yours, meant to be studying for exams but instead taking turns watching videos on your phones. His were always related to soccer, insane hat tricks and compilations of the best strikers, while yours tended to be more on the funnier side or were cake decorating videos since he found those to be relaxing. 

You were at every match, cheering him and his brother on as they dominated the pitch and wishing the best for their careers. They loved soccer and loved playing together, Sae always telling you in private that he did see a future for himself and Rin in soccer at the national level. Playing for Japan as the best strikers in the world, exchanging passes until they got to the World Cup - hopefully Japan’s first so they could mark a huge claim in the history of Japanese soccer with one of them scoring the winning goal based on a pass from the other. 

Sae meant the world to you, but you always knew that you’d never come before soccer. But you wouldn’t want to, he deserved to chase his dream and you wanted to support him through that as you trusted he’d support you in yours. That’s what friends did. 

You loved Sae, and you felt deep down that he loved you too. But you’d never come before soccer. Especially not when he was recruited. Just thirteen years old, not even in high school yet, and he was going off to Spain. Japan’s Treasure, your treasure , and he was leaving you to go pursue his dream. As he should, and you don’t feel bad about it. 

After all, you knew you would never come before soccer. 

You didn’t go to high school alone, you had friends outside of Sae to hang out with, but you still felt so lonely. To go from talking to him every day, watching him play and practice with his brother, to just…nothing? It sucked. You still go to support Rin, watching his matches at the very least and tutoring him when he swallowed his pride and asked , but life without Sae felt empty and you hated it. 

“Have you heard from him?” You ask after a few months of radio silence from the elder Itoshi brother, and your heart drops when Rin shakes his head. “Oh, I guess he’s really busy then. I know he has to learn Spanish too, on top of practicing.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s just busy. He’ll call when he gets time.” Was all Rin could say, and you give your own nod of agreement before pointing out that he forgot to carry the four. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“You never do,” you tease, ruffling his hair and earning a startled “hey!” from the younger brother. “Always thinking about when you can go kick the ball around next, when you should be thinking about these entrance exams.”

“I know I’ll get the minimum score required to get into my school of choice. Soccer will carry me the rest of the way and then I won’t even need to worry about graduating.”

Always following in his brother’s footsteps, Rin was chasing his own dream that he shared with Sae. His optimism was inspiring and infectious, bringing a grin to your face before you redirect him to the practice questions you’d provided. For a kid so talented at catching the right angles to kick the ball and score, he sucked at geometry. Maybe he was better suited for physics. 

Rin joining you at the high school was nice, you felt better knowing that he wasn’t starting school alone, even if he was just as lonely as you were without his brother around. Sae was irreplaceable to both of you, and yet neither of you had heard a word from him - not even a text at Christmas or either of your birthdays. He’d been gone for about four years, and you still waited for him when you should’ve given up. Any sane person would’ve given up, but you still had a deep love for Sae. Whether that was as your friend or if you had genuine feelings for him, you’d never figured it out before he left, but you hoped distance truly made the heart grow fonder and he’d do something about the fact that he’d cut you and his brother off completely. 

And then you get the news you were waiting for. 

“He’s coming back soon,” Rin comments as you eat lunch together, on a bench under a tree where you always ate together. “Something to do with his passport is what my mom said, but he’ll be back in about a month.”

“I’m sure you’re excited to see him again,” you comment, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again. Sae coming home was huge, and you couldn’t wait to hear about what he’d gotten up to while in Spain. You’d watched almost every single one of his matches, even bought a jersey to wear while you watched him play. A long distance good luck charm is what you’d sent to him when it was delivered - a text that got no response from your best friend. 

The snow was falling when Itoshi Sae was meant to return. Out of respect for the family that missed the eldest son, you don’t stop by their home for a few days. When you saw Rin at school he was visibly upset, more closed off than he’d been just a week ago when he was practically vibrating with excitement at seeing his brother again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask after school, watching as he adjusts his gym bag on his shoulder while you put your shoes back on. “You’re clearly upset, Rin.”

“He gave up on our dream. That’s all there is to it.” 

You don’t believe that, but you know better than to pry into Rin’s feelings. The fact that he said anything was enough, especially as it related to his relationship with Sae. It was just unfortunate that the brothers who were once so close now had an entire ocean between them, both physically and in their relationship, courtesy of Sae. 

‘Sae is in town again. My mom said he asked about you.’

It wasn’t unusual to get a text from Rin, Sae’s intent to put distance between him and anybody who might’ve loved him had brought you closer to the younger Itoshi brother and maintained that relationship even as he went pro. It was now Rin’s jerseys that you collected and wore as good luck charms, anything with Sae’s name tucked away in a box so you wouldn’t have to look at it since you couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. Even the stupid notes you’d pass back and forth with him in school - you’d kept everything. 

‘Respectfully, I do not care’

‘You do though. I’m not stupid.’

‘You are, I remember tutoring you dummy’

That gets a thumbs down reaction from Rin, and you sigh when your phone lights up with Rin’s name and picture. He couldn’t leave well enough alone, it seemed. Neither could you, most days. 

“Rin, please let me pretend to not care,” you request before he can even attempt a pleasantry. You know why he was calling, and you didn’t want to bring up the feelings you were trying not to deal with. “I ask for very little of you aside from a discount on your merchandise and for you to tell your teammates I said hi and am currently single.”

“You’re fucking annoying, y’know that?”

“You tell me every day. Now what do you want, I’ve got exams to study for.”

“I’m also in town at my mom’s request. It’d be nice to see you.” There was another shoe that hadn’t yet dropped, you knew there was always another shoe when Rin was around. He didn’t like that being his reputation with you, but there was nothing he could do about it when he was…the way he was. Much better than when he was a teen, though, but still awful. “My mom said that Sae was also going to try to get a hold of you. But I wish he wouldn’t.”

There it was, the other shoe. 

“What happened to not giving a fuck about what he did?”

“You’re still not over him. Seeing him isn’t going to make that any better, no matter how hard you try to ignore it, and I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“Rin, it’s been like eight years, give me a little credit please? I don’t want to see him, so I won’t.” It should be that simple, Sae didn’t know where you lived, so he couldn’t hunt you down. You’re sure his mom might’ve told him where you were going to school and what you were studying, you always caught up at Rin’s big matches and when you were closer to home for the holidays. She always treated you well, and your continued closeness with Rin made her feel better about how her youngest son was doing emotionally. You were like her bonus daughter, Rin’s older sister figure, a member of the Itoshi family complete with Christmas gifts and calls on your birthday, which was fine since Sae was never home for those events anyway.                                                         

“But you’ll see me?”

“You’re buying lunch, Rinnie. Or maybe a nice dinner? Haven’t decided.” But you know how it’ll turn out. Rin sitting on the floor against your couch with some horror movie playing as he betrayed his diet for once with sodium rich takeout that he’d complain about eating in the morning. Rin was predictable, unlike his brother who had always surprised you.

You never told Rin that Sae had texted you on your last birthday. Wishing you another healthy year, standard greeting for a birthday. You agonized over it for six hours before finally deleting it so you wouldn’t have to look at it again, knowing that responding would open a door you didn’t think you wanted to go through. Maybe he got the memo, but you’re not sure that Sae ever got the memo despite how smart he was.

“You’re a brat. But I wanted to make sure you weren’t crying because his name came up.” He knows you too well and you hate it, but you do appreciate that he cares in his own rude way. 

“You’re such a jerk. I’ll see you when?” 

“Tomorrow, unless you’re busy.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I’ve got class but that’s in the morning.”

“See you at noon. I’ll pick you up.” And then he hangs up on you, never bothering for pleasantries like saying “goodbye”. Those few seconds are extra time he could spend in the day working on his dribbling, or something stupid like that. 

But unfortunately he’s right, the mention of Sae bothering to ask about you - having the nerve to want to see you - after almost ten years of silence was incredibly frustrating to the point where you can’t stop the tears from welling up or the dam from breaking so your tears could flow freely. Your notes were ruined, teardrops making the ink bleed on the paper which would make you need to redo the page. 

In another universe, the one where at some point he chose you , he’d be right there studying with you. You wouldn’t be crying over him again, you’d be at the very least happier. He’d be teasing you in his own dry way for putting off your studying, and for teasing his brother so much. You think that you’d be having much more fun in that world where Sae was with you and not married to a soccer ball. Maybe he would’ve married you instead?

But he’d never choose you over soccer. He’d never be the one who chose you over the pitch, that just wasn’t Itoshi Sae. Trying to think of a world where he put you first was stupid and a waste of your time. You had exams to study for.

You tried to avoid him while he was back after what he’d said to Rin. Renewing his passport is what his mother said, and you understood that to be a somewhat lengthy process so you knew he’d be around for a while. At least a week or two, maybe longer depending on his paperwork. 

But in all your effort to avoid him, you end up running right into him on your way home from a mall trip with your friends. Rin wasn’t around, he’d gone off to some soccer camp, leaving you to do things with other people and without him tagging along in the back so you wouldn’t have to walk home alone. 

If Rin had been there, you’re sure he would’ve clocked Sae and directed you down a different street. But Rin wasn’t there, and you’re face-to-face with Itoshi Sae while snow falls between you. It was cold, about as cold as his eyes when they met yours, and you want nothing more than to go home but you’re sure it’s not going to be that easy. Sae was never easy to deal with, even when you were friends. 

“Hey.”

“That’s it?” you ask, rolling your eyes when he shrugs. “You’re gone for four years with no contact and all you have to say is ‘hey’?” 

His expression doesn’t change, and you feel yourself only getting more frustrated at that. It shouldn’t be new to you, he’d always been on the drier side, but given the history that he chose to write - the chasm he’d put between you - you can’t help but be mad. 

“You still cry when you’re upset. That’s a habit you should try to break.” 

“You do not have the right to say anything to me about what I should or shouldn’t do, not after what you did.” That gets at least a change in expression, a glimpse of an emotion crossing his features as you adjust your gloves. But as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. He was always very good at masking his feelings. 

“You act like there was an obligation to keep in touch.”

“That’s a joke, right? We had been friends since we were five and you say there was no obligation to stay in touch ? I knew and understood that soccer was always your priority, but you could’ve at least sent a text . If you didn’t want me in your life anymore, all you had to do was say so and I wouldn’t have spent four years worrying about you.” Your voice gets softer as you speak, your eyes no longer able to meet his as you feel the geyser of emotion start to bubble up in your chest. “But you made it crystal clear, so I won’t waste any more of your time. I have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.” 

“I’d rather walk into traffic,” you retort, stepping around him so you can continue on your way home. “You don’t get to pretend to care just because you’re back in town. You’ll leave as soon as you can, I’m sure. You clearly were happier when you didn’t have to see me every day.”

“You’re impossible.” 

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Can you stop for a minute?” The request actually makes you stop, but you don’t turn to look at him. You can’t, not when you’ve been crying because he sucks as a human being. “I wanted to see you, when I didn’t have to.”

“You also hurt your brother when you didn’t have to . Did you come all the way back for that?”

“What happened between Rin and I is none of your business.”

“Then what happened in Spain that you came back like this? This isn’t you , Sae!” You have to look at him now, need him to see just what he’d done to you. Before he left he hated it when you cried, even if it was at a movie, but now he looks unfazed at the tears streaming down your face. Who was he now? Just some soccer machine? “I want my friend back.”

The conversation ends when Sae closes the distance between you. The kiss is harsh, needy, but exposed a truth in both of your actions and that truth was in experience. You both had been kissing other people, and you’re not sure how to feel about Sae trying to date. Hypocritical for sure, but could you be blamed?

“That doesn’t fix anything ,” you murmur when he pulls away, and he only sighs as he comments on how frustrating you were. “And I don’t forgive you for hurting Rin. I won’t ever forgive that.”

“It’s still none of your business.” 

“Just fucking walk me home.” At this point it’s best to give him what he wanted. Arguing with Sae wasn’t easy when you were kids, and it’s obvious that he’d become more difficult while he was away. 

You never told Rin that Sae kissed you that night. 

Rin had left for Blue Lock at that point, telling you that his new goal was to destroy Sae and you’d only nodded as you wished him luck. At that point you only understood it to be a potential recruiting session, with the expectation that he’d be back in a couple weeks. 

Instead he was gone for months, and you saw a lot of the elder Itoshi brother in the younger’s absence. You never told Rin about that either. 

Quiet evenings with Sae watching you study for classes he’d never have to take, his own book in his hands and letting you sit in slightly uncomfortable silence. You don’t ask about Spain, you don’t talk about soccer in general because you hate that he used his experience with soccer in Spain to hurt his brother. But it “wasn’t your place” to intervene in their sibling quarrel, so you leave it all alone. You tell yourself that you don’t care, but the way you care for Rin tells you that you needed to in order to protect him since he was like a younger brother to you. Even if you were trying to protect him from his older brother. 

You let Sae spend time with you, you let him take you to dinner and make tea for you, you ignore your parents' questions about why he was around after you’d spent so many nights crying over him. You didn’t know, but you knew that he’d hold your hand sometimes while you ate in private and always left you with a kiss on the cheek on your doorstep. Sometimes you exchange kisses that escalated into heavy makeout sessions on your bedroom floor, and other times you sit in silence while you work at your desk and he stretches on your floor.

It was everything you had wanted from Sae, but you knew that you were simply a placeholder and nothing more. He was only around to see what the Blue Lock Program could produce, to see if a half decent striker could rise up to represent Japan and make their soccer decent for once. Once his curiosity was satisfied or disappointed, he’d leave again since his passport had been renewed. You were just a way for him to pass the time while he waited for something interesting to happen. 

You would never come before soccer. 

But you let yourself pretend that he was spending time with you because wanted to, not just because you were around and he was bored. What hurt you more was the fact that you were okay with his selfishness, because it meant spending time with him almost as if he’d never left. It meant for some purpose he wanted to be with you . 

Until he didn’t want that. 

You never told anyone how Sae told you after the loss in the match against the Blue Lock Eleven that your relationship to Rin was holding his brother back. How Rin would never rise to meet his own goals when you were tying him down to you. How Sae himself knew you would hold him back and that he’d be going back to Europe to play for a decent team. The words you’d always feared he would say cut so deeply after the months you’d spent at each other’s sides, and that’s when it truly has set in that you were a convenience to Sae - someone he knew would always take him back despite the pain he caused you - someone he could use and throw away as he pleased.  

Rin never knew what Sae had told you while he was in Japan last, and it was for the best. Rin had felt defeated after that match, hearing that Sae was more interested in Isagi than his own brother who was working so hard to exceed his brother’s level of talent. Knowing that Sae had stomped all over your heart would only make Rin more homicidal in his play style, and he needed a break from additional emotional issues. 

And four years later you find yourself laying on your couch with Rin sitting on the floor in front of you, takeout container in his hand while you play with his hair. He’d doze off on the floor soon, the food coma kicking in and you’d finally look at your phone where a text from Sae sat waiting for a response. He’d sent it the night before, asking if he could see you while he was around. You think about what it would be like to have both brothers on the same page again, to have Sae spending time with you consistently, to be happy with them both in your life. 

But you know deep down that soccer would always come first to Sae. You can’t forget or forgive what he’d said to you four years ago, but maybe he’d actually apologize for how he’d treated you if you saw him? But was it even with seeing him if that wasn’t a guarantee? There wasn’t even a guarantee that it’d be a pleasant meeting, Sae just sucked like that. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Rin comments, tilting his head back against the couch cushion so he could look at you. “Oh, that’s the Sae face.”

“I do not have a ‘Sae face’.” Your retort is met with the familiar deadpan stare you often got from Rin when he thought your argument was stupid. He only sighs in return, and you try to adjust your expression to be less like whatever it was previously. “What does that even mean?”

“You look like someone kicked your dog, to start. You’re also crying.”

You were? Rin reaching up to wipe them away had you embarrassed, mumbling about allergies even though you both know that was a lie to save face when you didn’t need to do that for Rin. Sae had him just as fucked up as you, the last time they met on the pitch resulting in a heated exchange that made worldwide sports headlines for weeks. You’re surprised Rin didn’t risk a red card to play more aggressively against his older brother, but the yellow card he did get was worn like a badge of honor when you scolded him for it later. 

“I’m sorry Rin. He texted me, is all, and I don’t know that I want to see him. Last time I saw him, it didn’t end well.”

“Does it ever end well with him?”

“No,” you mumble, letting him sit you up so he could get on the couch with you. It’s not long before you’re laying on him, head on his shoulder as he reminds you that you don’t need to see Sae and definitely don’t need him in your life. You were about to get your degree, and a job out of it too based on the internship you’d finished, and you did it all without Sae. Neither a of you needed Sae, and you both understood the universal truth: Sae would always choose soccer first. Before his brother and certainly before you. Putting effort in when you know it won’t be reciprocated was for fools. 

“Seeing him might give you closure, but you need to figure out when you’ll stop running back to him and giving him that power over you.”

“You’re annoying when you’re right.”

“I’m only saying that he only does this to you and I’m getting sick of it. You can make your own decisions, but I don’t like seeing you cry over him. We’ve done too much of that.”

You had, and Rin truly was annoying when he was right but you know you’re lucky to have him - someone who knew exactly what it felt like to be pushed aside and put down by Itoshi Sae. By someone who once cared so much and wanted to see you succeed, then flipped the switch and became the biggest asshole you’d ever met. What you’d do without Rin, you weren’t sure. 

“Thanks for putting up with me all this time,” you whisper, tears welling up again but this time because you’re so grateful for him. He’ll hate it when he realizes you’re crying again, but you think this time he’ll keep it to himself. 

“You’re my big sister, putting up with you is kinda my job,” he murmurs, kissing your head as he adjusts his back. “But I cannot sleep on this couch.”

“ You put us here, shithead.”

Despite all your best intuitions, you text Sae back. You do tell Rin that as he’s leaving your apartment the following morning, and he leaves you with the suggestion that this be the last time you communicate with Sae. There isn’t an ultimatum there, but you know that you can’t keep allowing Rin to clean up the messes Sae left behind. Despite your close relationship and mutual understanding of how much it sucked to be emotionally fucked by Sae, it wasn’t fair to Rin that he picked up the additional emotional labor that was you crying over his brother or looking like you wanted to cry at the mention of him. You had a “Sae face”, for fuck’s sake - that could not last.

It’s always cold when you see Sae as adults. Mostly because it was the mid-season break in the middle of winter, but you also find it fitting that the weather fits how you feel the conversation should go. Indifferent, signaling the end to a one-sided friendship and the way he continued to keep you at arm’s length. Sae never felt warm, even down to the way he looked at you, it was a cold indifference that made you feel like you were stranded in the arctic with no way to truly understand what you did to be left that way. But you’re here now, standing in front of him as he watches you, not a sliver of interest in his expression that made you feel like he wanted you there despite the request that you come see him and make the time for him that he never made for you. 

“Hey.” Your greeting is about as level as you can manage, trying to maintain the cold indifference he always met you with. He looks tired, moreso than usual, which has you concerned but not enough to ask. He wouldn’t ask you if you were okay, that same courtesy should not be extended even if the words dance on the tip of your tongue with a need to be bitten down to keep yourself quiet.

“It’s cold out here, we should head into the hotel.” And he’s gesturing to the lavish building to your left, the building you hadn’t noticed because Sae gave you tunnel vision. “I don't have time to get sick.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” But you follow him anyway, loosening your scarf as he leads you to the elevator before your gloves come off to get tucked into the pocket of your coat. You aren’t sure how long you’ll stay, but you’re not trying to overheat either. 

“My mom says you’re almost done with university.”

“Yeah, I graduate in the spring.”

He only nods as the elevator stops, and again you’re following him down the hall to what is only the second door you see in the entire length of the hallway. Lavish hotel, lavish suite, you’d expect nothing less of Japan’s Treasure. Your boots are carefully removed before you take off your coat to hang up, acutely aware of how Sae watches you as he does the same. He was always watching, and you hate the way he could figure you out in seconds but never let you into the locked vault that was his brain. There was so much you could’ve learned if he’d just reciprocated some level of trust, but the last time you understood Sae was when you were in middle school - before Spain, before Blue Lock, before he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Why’d you text on my birthday?”

“It was your birthday, wasn’t it? It’s polite to do that.”

“You haven’t done that in almost ten years.” 

He gestures to the table on the other side of the suite, two plush chairs waiting for you both to sit and talk. That’s what Sae wanted, you supposed - to talk for the first time in four years. So you sit, tucking one leg under your body and nodding when he offered you some tea. 

But then he’s quiet; watching as you sip at the tea provided, holding the mug in your hands as a way to close yourself off from him. He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t let him in to do that. 

“I want to make one thing clear, Sae.” You finally break after a couple minutes of unsettling silence, setting your cup down on the coaster before folding your hands in your lap. “I don’t have time to fuck around so please just get this over with and call me a stupid and hopeful girl that’s holding you back so I can go home.”

“Is that what you expected to get?”

“It’s the last thing you said to my face, so yeah.” He only nods at that, knowing that there was no denying that statement. “I can’t keep doing this, letting you show up every four years just to butter me up and then tell me to fuck off. I can’t keep trying to be your friend if you can’t even give me five minutes that I deserve when you’re not benefiting from it directly.”

He’s silent, and you continue to sip your tea while letting him process that. After a moment he stands, still saying nothing as he crosses the suite to get to a small box that sits on the dresser in the room. It looks expensive, a cherry wood case that is set delicately on the table in front of you. It’s as he sets it down that the sleeve of his shirt rides up a bit, revealing a familiar braided string of yarn that you’d made at a scouts camp. It was much too worn to be anything else, and your hand catches his wrist before he has the chance to sit down again. 

“You’ll spill your tea.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, setting the mug down with your free hand before dragging your index finger along the bracelet until it catches the two beads that were braided side-by-side into the yarn. Black and white, “like a soccer ball” is what you’d told him all those years ago, and the way he smiled as you tied it around his wrist made you feel something your eight year old heart hadn’t been able to compute. “You still have it.”

“I’ve always had it. I only take it off to shower.” He speaks so softly you barely hear him, the hand on your cheek bringing your attention away from the bracelet and to him as he squats in front of you. “And I know I’m a piece of shit, Rin made sure to tell me at our family dinner a couple nights ago, but I guess I just wanted to let you know that I have been thinking about you and I’ve had you with me like you kept me with you all this time.”

“Why didn’t you ever just say that?” Your question has him sighing, and you look at him expectantly as he averts his gaze to look at the box instead. “If you’ve known all this time that I wanted you and you kept this - why not just say something?”

“I guess I just have to complicate everything.” You know that’s a joke - it has to be an attempt at one - and you can’t help but shake your head before you also look to where the box sits on the table waiting for you to open it. “I got this for you, putting it in the mail felt too impersonal.”

You don’t comment on how impersonal usually suited him just fine, not wanting to kill whatever moment you were having as your hands leave him to carefully open the box. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but to hear an old pop song you’d enjoyed while he was spending time with you while Rin was at Blue Lock wasn’t it, and the tears well up in your eyes as it’s fully opened and you see a very old picture of you with Sae at one of your birthday parties pressed into the lid. Cake frosting on your face as you’re laughing, Sae’s finger still covered in frosting in the frame as he looks so proud of himself for getting you like that. Printed onto glass, a memory that you’d never forget because that was when Sae was happy , and preserved somewhere other than your heart (and apparently with one of your parents).

Then he pushes a button on the side of the box, the soft base lifting slowly to reveal a bracelet that looks so much like the one you’d made for him all those years ago. Only where he had two beads, this one has a small metal plate with a date on one side and you turn it when you see kanji on the other. 

“‘Thank you for being my harbor’?” 

“You’ve always been a safe place for me to come home to. A harbor for me to dock in. Even when I suck.” The explanation makes you chuckle as you wipe some stray tears from your cheek, commenting about how he spent too much time looking at the ocean while you watch him turn the bracelet over in your hands. “This was our first day of kindergarten. The day you decided you were my best friend.”

At that moment you don’t care about his career or potential for injury when you launch yourself at him. Arms tight around his neck as he barely catches you in time to cushion your fall as he hits the carpet below you. 

“I didn’t think you had a heart,” you tease, earning a huff from the man below you but no other comment. “Thank you, Sae.”

“I’d try to stay for you.” His voice was almost so quiet you didn’t hear it, and you can’t stop yourself from kissing him in your excitement to hear him say that.

“You mean it?” You don’t get a verbal response, instead his lips reconnecting to yours in a kiss that was less exciting but not lacking in passion. A warmth that rarely emanated from Sae made you feel like you were on fire, but he always made you feel like that when he kissed you. “Sae-“

“Don’t think too hard about it,” he instructs, hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. “Do you want this?”

“What is this ?”

“Currently? I think sex,” he mumbles, kissing along your jaw where he could reach in this position “After that? I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure that part out later,” you murmur, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. “But now, sex is good.”

You hate how easily your shirt comes off, his task that was exploring your neck barely interrupted by pulling the fabric over your head with your bra following shortly after. You have to sit up to allow yourself the space to undo the buttons of his shirt, and he helps you by starting from the bottom to complete the task faster. The shirt and his undershirt are shed quickly after he sits up, his hands then occupying themselves with your breasts as your mouth meets his once more. Your hands undo his pants, fumbling in search of his length that you’d felt getting hard beneath you while you were kissing him. It’s easy for him to push you both up while he bridges his hi[s, supporting you with just one hand while his other helps you push his pants and briefs down so you’d have the access to him that you wanted. His length is hot in your hand, a soft groan escaping him as your hand blindly explores previously uncharted territory.

“Is someone sensitive?” you ask, smile on your face as he scoffs. Your own pants start to get wiggled down your hips, and you cooperate as he adjusts your body to ensure he could get your pants and panties off without needing to pull too far away from you. His ability to manhandle you shouldn’t be surprising, considering the intense strength training all professional athletes worked through, but for it to be Sae shuffling you around with little effort was something unexpected. Maybe it was because you consistently still pictured him as the same young teenager, the untainted version of Sae that loved you, but you can’t dwell on that when you feel a couple fingers slide through your slick folds. 

His fingers ease into your cunt, it seemed like he was trying to match the easy pace of your hand with his thumb rolling against your clit shortly after your thumb runs along his tip. Like in all things, Sae is meticulous and observant and he worked diligently to get you ready to take him. He felt big in your hand, but without having a proper look at his cock you’re not sure if he was over or under preparing you so you’re trusting him while his fingers work expertly inside you. It’d be weird to ask how many people he’d been with, considering he clearly didn’t care how many people you’d been with - did it actually matter if you were here now? Probably not, but you always worked overtime thinking about what Sae was possibly up to without you. 

“Ready?” He’s asking you as he pulls his hand back, but not looking at you as his attention is redirected to your neck and shoulder. “Don’t wanna cum in your hand, would rather do that inside you.”                                                                            

“Condom?” you ask, wincing at the way his teeth gripped the skin at your jawline, before he let out a hum that sounded like a no. 

“Not necessary.” The confirmation of his thought has you smiling, bumping your head against his as he looks up at you. 

“How do you know I don’t want to trap you into giving me your money to raise a prodigy child?” you tease, earning yourself an exasperated sigh as he nips the shell of your ear. 

“You’ve had access to Rin’s money for years and all you ask for are jerseys and tickets.” You’re mad that he knows that, but you’re sure that Rin has probably thrown it in his face once or twice that you don’t ask for much at all outside of basic human decency and how Sae couldn’t give you that. “He’d give you anything you asked for, maybe not a kid though.”

“He can’t give me you.”

“He’d kill himself before agreeing to that,” he murmurs, peppering kisses around your cheek as he eases you onto his length. “Gonna take all of me? I know you can.”

You could, but not without effort. Sae wasn’t excessively girthy, but he was longer than others you’d taken. You liked that you were on top, having more control over this despite his hands on your hips guiding you down as he whispers in your ear how well you were taking him. You don’t take his entire length on the first pass, but he’s still enamored as he leans back against the bed to properly take you in. 

“You’re really pretty when I’m stretching you out like this.”

“Only when you’re fucking me?”

“All the time, you’ve always been pretty,” he responds, hand around your neck to keep your gaze locked on his. “But this is something special. Not just anyone gets to see you like this.”

That much was true, you were selective about who had access to you despite working overtime in college to do whatever you could to forget about Sae. You think mostly it was to keep your image clean for Rin, despite him never asking for the intimate details of your life that could tarnish your image in his eyes. 

“Thinking too much,” he scolds, gently tapping your cheek to refocus your attention on him and only him . “You wanted my attention so bad, be good for me then.”

“You chased me this time,” you counter, rolling your hips against his and pulling a hiss from between his teeth. “So shut the fuck up.”

“Bossy,” he murmurs before pulling you in for another kiss. It’s more calculated than you’d expect for having his cock buried in your cunt as his hands help you ride him. There was a universe where you and Sae were like this all the time, you’re sure of it. One where you’re happy and in love with each other to the point where you can’t keep your hands off one another. A universe where it didn’t take eight years for him to say that you meant something to him - where he didn’t run from experiencing a human emotion to maintain a cool composure on the field. It was probably a world where he didn’t play soccer, and would probably never be the universe you lived in currently. 

“Why are you crying?” he whispers, the hand that wasn’t holding your neck carefully rubbing your side in an effort to calm you down. You have even realized that you were crying, how embarrassing. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, trying to reassure him as you continue fucking him, but you know you don’t believe it. “Thinking too much, like you said. Missed you a lot, y’know. This is nice.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t think so much,” he comments with a sigh, brushing his nose against yours as you shrug. 

“Do something about it, then.” 

He moves quickly at your challenge, your back hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud as he changes the position so he was on top. Your hands settle on his chest as he kisses you, the coil in your stomach tightening with every deep thrust into your pussy. His kiss is sloppy, needy and so uncharacteristic of the usually very meticulous man you’d come to know and love but hate most of the time. 

“Sae, please,” you whine as he pulls away, cheek pressed to his as he presses his face into your neck. 

“Keep saying it,” he requests, nipping and sucking at the skin he can get to as he pounds into you, one hand gripping your leg to bring it up to his hip for the deeper angle that has you seeing stars. “Let the whole hotel know who’s got you.”

“S-Sae,” you moan, his hand finding your clit bringing a choked gasp out of your lips that has him grinning into your skin. 

“So good for me, you like the way I fuck you?”

“God, fuck yes!” You’re thankful his suite is so large, preventing many, if any, people from hearing how desperately you were missing for him. “S’good Sae.”

“I know,” he grunts, the sound coming from deep in his throat and sending a shiver down your spine.  “Fuck, you feel great. So good for me.” 

Your core continues to tighten with every thrust, signaling the beginning of the end for you, and you hope he’s also close because you’re not sure you could handle any more. You didn’t have the soccer stamina like he did. 

“Sae, I’m gonna cum.” That gets his attention, leaving your neck with an open mouthed kiss before he’s looking down at you again. He’s smiling as his hand pushes your hair from your face, kissing your forehead as he feels your walls begin to constrict around him. 

“Come on, baby, you can cum for me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your cheeks as he forehead rests against yours. “C’mon, beg a little bit for me as you do, yeah?”

“Sae, please,” you whimper, gripping his forearms as he grinds his hips into yours. His pelvis rubs against your clit with every stroke of his hips, his own normally controlled gaze unfocused as he feels his own end approaching. “Sae- yes, fuck - SaeSaeSae please. I’m gonna-!”

His moans are less intelligible as he tries to hold out through your orgasm, you barely make out your name among a string of curses until he finally stills as warmth floods your core. One small thrust followed by a second push his seed deeper into you, the press of his lips kissing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks.  

“The floor is not where I’d wanted to do this,” he murmurs but you only try to shake your head because you truly did not care. “You okay?”

“You’re going to have to check for a rug burn, but I’m good. More than that.” Your assurance comes as he pulls out, helping you to sit up before pulling you to your feet with him so he can help you to the bed on wobbly legs. He tells you to stay put for a moment after laying you down, and you watch from the bed as he leaves for the bathroom. 

When he returns, he turns you on your back so he can check your skin for rug burns as requested while his other hand brings a washcloth between your legs to clean up the mess he’d left. Always striving for efficiency was Sae, and you appreciate the care he puts into getting you ready for bed. You honestly wouldn’t have expected that of him but, then again, this entire night was something you wouldn’t have expected from him. 

“You look fine.” Is all he says before placing the softest of kisses between your shoulder blades, bringing a smile to your face before he goes to put the washcloth back into the bathroom. This time when he comes back he pulls you into his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while you continue to bask in the afterglow of having sex with Sae. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, uncomfortable with the sudden silence despite the way he was relaxed beneath you. It wasn’t odd for him to get quiet, but after sex it felt odd. Was he regretting it, or trying to figure out how to ask you to go back home? What if this was all for him to get some closure he was looking for?  

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking.”

“Want to share with the class?”

“You asked what happened in Spain, and I never told you,” he murmurs, hand rubbing your back as you look up at him. “Never told anyone, really.”

You hum, gently tracing patterns on his chest with your fingertips as he sits in the silence. You weren’t going to say anything that could break his train of thought, not wanting to destroy whatever vulnerability he was going to extend to you. 

“It’s different when you leave Japan. I know Rin has probably told you about some of it, but him exploring at seventeen or eighteen was vastly different than being thirteen.”

“I’m sure. You had to learn Spanish too, right?”

“I did, which is fucking hard when your English also isn’t great.” So at least you were right about that much, the stress he was likely under was unimaginable. “My translator worked overtime.”

“I’m sure.”

“But I think the worst of it was just how alone I was. A child, so hyped up and for what? The rug was pulled from under me very fast; not speaking the language created a lot of barriers for me, along with my age and obvious inexperience with how the real world works. Thought I knew everything, but I didn’t know shit.”

“I mean, you were just a kid still, did they not-“

“They didn’t care. I could’ve been a toddler and they wouldn’t have given a shit. And they taught me quickly that everything you have can be taken away from you. I guess initially I didn’t want them to try and take you, too. Then it was just, everything changed. I had to change my entire mentality about soccer to succeed there and it took over. And I can’t break it, or else I break my soccer.”

“You realize that’s not a good excuse to have acted like a complete dick for the last ten years, right?” You ask, propping yourself up to look directly at him. “Like all you had to say was ‘Spain sucks, I’m miserable, and I don’t want to push you away but I know I suck’ and I would’ve tried to understand more. But then you did the rest of it, and did irreparable damage to Rin and I.”

“I know,” he sighs, his eyes closing as you roll yours. “I know, and nothing I can do will fix that. You just wanted to know, and I owed you that.”

“You’re pretty hot when you’re vulnerable.” Your attempt to lighten the mood lands, earning a snort from the usually collected Sae before he opens his eyes to look at you again. “I’m serious!”

“I’m sure,” he mumbles, settling more into the bed while trying to pull you back down into him. You don’t let him get you easily, pulling back against him so you could continue that eye contact with him. 

“Are you sticking around this time?” The question has him sighing, and you feel bad for ruining the moment but you know you need to talk this out. “I meant it when I said I can’t keep doing this. If you’re not sticking around, or if you’re going to leave without saying anything and cut me off again, then we’re done on all fronts. I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me.”

You think you know the answer when he sighs, but you let him pull you down into his chest this time. You’d enjoy it while it lasted, you supposed, the consequences would be felt in the morning. Sae was finally yours , even if it was only for a night. 

You wake up alone in the hotel suite, still naked but neatly tucked in by who you could only assume was Sae. The woven bracelet is tied around your wrist, which gives you hope, but looking around the room tells you that he’d left entirely. No suitcases, no remnants of the clothes you’d shed on the way to the bedroom, your own clothes neatly folded at the end of the bed. He did exactly what he told you he wouldn’t do, which has your stomach dropping as the tears well up. 

Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t keep his word. He would never choose you over soccer, after all. 

You feel ashamed as you leave the hotel, the snow still falling and you’re tempted to walk all the way back home to just marinate in the emotions you were feeling. But you don’t, instead calling for a taxi where the driver listens to you sniffle in your own misery with a sympathetic look on his face. You hate being so vulnerable, exposed in public for having your heart broken and the pieces stomped on by someone who grew up with you, but it’s another thing you can hate Sae for. 

Coming home to Rin sitting on your couch was not what you wanted exactly, but pulling off your layers and then flopping on the couch beside him was what you needed. He’d be disappointed that you’d bought into Sae’s lies once more, but he’d be relieved to hear that you were completely done now. You’d learned your lesson one too many times, and now you could both move on from this constant cycle of heartache. 

“What happened?”

“Details you don’t need, for starters,” you sigh, earning a gagging sound from Rin that makes you roll your eyes. “But I told him if he left like he did the last two times, not saying anything and just going ghost that I wanted him to never talk to me again. And when I woke up he was gone. Like he was never there.”

“Bastard.” Is the only thing to leave Rin as he pulls you into his side. “But I suppose he finally made his choice.”

“He’d always made his choice, I’m just an idiot.” He doesn’t have anything to say to that, and you just lean into his shoulder while you try to fight back the next round of tears. You appreciate that he doesn’t want to make you feel worse by telling you what he thought, but the silence was horrifyingly loud. “I should shower.”

“I’ll make some breakfast for you.”

After you were clean and had eaten, Rin left for his own training regimen and you sat on your couch while staring at your phone as it vibrated on the coffee table. Sae had already called twice, this would be the third time he’d called. You don’t want to answer, but you know you have to or else he wouldn’t stop calling. But maybe he’d come back if he thought you hadn’t made it home? Could you manipulate him into your apartment so you could yell at him in person? 

No, that wouldn’t really fix anything. He’d probably just try to fuck you into being docile again, and you didn’t want or need that. 

“You selfish piece of shit.” Is how you start when you answer, standing up from your seat. “I can’t believe that I believed all that shit you said! But classic Sae, right? Tell me what I want to hear and then fucking leave without a word!”

“I’m sorry-”

“You’d fucking want to be! I’m so tired of you jerking me around like this, and then Rin feels obligated to pick up the pieces of the heart you shatter time and time again! He deserves better than to clean up your mess both with me and with your family.”

“I had a flight to catch.”

“Then you say that, dick! Don’t give me some expensive gift, fuck me, then leave!” 

“When was I supposed to tell you?”

“I dunno, maybe when we were staring at each other in those chairs? Or when you were taking off my clothes? Or, and here’s a crazy thought, when we were laying in bed and I told you flat out that if you left like that again you could consider me gone for real!” You don’t know when you’d made it to your bedroom, but you’re sure you owe your neighbors an apology for how loud you were yelling into your phone. “Like always, you know just what to say to get me close to you and then you fuck it up because you’re selfish, arrogant, and think that just because you can kick a ball really well that you can just treat me how you want?”

“It shouldn’t matter.” Is what you’re met with, and you have to stop yourself from screaming into the phone as your response for how upset you were. “You should know, especially after last night, that you do mean something to me.”

“Sure, but I just can’t do this shit with you, Sae. I can’t be with you when you’re here and then not exist when you’re gone!” You yell into the phone, knowing that as soon as he didn’t like where the conversation was headed he’d hang up. You’d at least gotten to say your piece, make sure he knew just how upset you were and how deeply he’d fucked up. Saying that you should know when he never made you feel anything like that until last night? Absurd and you hoped he’d learn after this that you have to communicate. “I told you that if you left the same way again that I wouldn’t be waiting for you when you came back. I’m done waiting for you, Sae. I can’t keep hoping that one day you’ll choose me because you want to instead of it being because I’m convenient for you.” 

“You think it’s out of convenience?”

“When have you ever given me a reason to think otherwise?”

There’s only silence on the other line, so you hang up after a couple moments of giving him an opportunity to respond before flopping back onto your bed and riding the way it bounced until you eventually settled. There wasn’t anything to look forward to, he’d never choose you and you couldn’t put your life on hold in the off chance that hell froze over and he did choose you over soccer. 

But you had a graduation coming up that you needed to prepare for, Sae was not ruining that for you. 

After you graduate, however, things get a bit boring. Work and more work, an endless repetition that exhausts you. If Rin would be a good younger brother and put in a good word for you with one of his teammates, you’d volunteer to be a trophy soccer wife and just travel. Would it be a waste of your degree? Absolutely, but there had to be more to life than whatever this was. Even if you had to act like you at least enjoyed soccer, it has to be more interesting than the life you had currently. People think it’s cool that you’ve got pictures with Itoshi Rin on your desk and are able to get them passes to matches you simply don’t want to be at, it gives them something to talk to you about and see you smile for once instead of having your head down in your work. 

But you know part of the misery is tied into the fact that you can’t stop thinking about Sae. Yes, you’d cut him off after he’d left you, but there was so much history that you were severing that it hurt to do and think about. If Rin asked, you were doing just fine, even if he knew you better than to believe that. 

Your prayers always seem to be answered in the form of Itoshi Rin. You hadn't exactly told him how miserable you were, trying to put on a good show for him whenever you had the chance to talk. You even left to get drinks with coworkers a couple times and let someone take you out on a date. You were trying to be social, because you knew it would help him worry less about you.

But the next time Rin is in the country, he shows up on a Saturday evening and tells you to get dressed as you’re in the middle of preparing vegetables to cook for dinner. He never showed up without calling, so this had to have been an impromptu decision for him to show up in relatively nice clothes instead of his usual gym or travel wear. 

“You could call , asshole. I wouldn’t have started cooking.”

“It’s just vegetables, they’ll keep for another day. Now go get dressed, casual but nice.”

You comply, but not because Rin told you to. The notion of going out with someone you didn’t see every day at work was enough to make you cooperative, is at least what you would try to say if he asked why you tagged along if you managed to get a complaint out. 

“Where are we even going ?”

“Dinner with some of my teammates. Apparently they miss you despite passing my phone around in the locker room to talk to you before every match.”

“Do they know I’m single?”

“I think it’s painfully obvious on your instagram.” That has you poking your head out of the bathroom to look at him as he goes through your closet while you try to make your hair more presentable for dinner with sports celebrities. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen four cats running around here at this point.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you retort, flipping him off before going back to your task that was taming your hair. “Pick out something cute!”

“You’re so annoying,” he calls, earning himself another middle finger extended out of the doorway of your bathroom. “You’d better be dressed in ten minutes.”

You’re finished getting ready in nine, probably a personal best but only made possible because Rin picked clothes out for you - saving you both the agony that came with you rifling through your closet for the right outfit. Choosing and then doubting yourself to choose again only to end up going back to your original selection. He hated that, so it made his life much easier to pick the clothes and get you into the car. 

“Where exactly are we going?” It’s the third time you’ve asked, you see Rin’s eye twitch in annoyance at the question since he’d told you that you were going with him to dinner with some of his teammates. He didn’t tell you where, or who all would be there, but you did enjoy everyone he played with so you couldn’t be fully upset at not having details. “Who all is going to be there?”

“We’re going to that one sushi place we went to on your birthday last year. Not sure exactly who all from the team will be there, but Aiku will definitely be there since he has been asking about you nonstop. Missed seeing you at matches when we’re playing here. Are you satisfied?”

“You should tell him I hate soccer and only went for you in the first place.”

“You don’t hate soccer, you hate what it did to you.”

“Same difference.”

“Behave in there,” Rin warns once the car is parked, and you look over at him with an unimpressed stare as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I told them ahead of time not to mention Sae.”

“So they know your brother fucked me then left me?”

“No. Just that you two were once close and now the ties are officially severed but you’re still grieving the loss of that friendship.” He was so good at covering for you, but you also know that he was happy that you’d finally chosen yourself over choosing to chase Sae that he’d do anything to make that choice easier for you to heal from. “You’re going to have a good time. If not, I’ll kill them.”

And you did have a good time, sitting between Rin and Oliver proved to be very entertaining while you were paid close attention to by both men. Rin per usual was a bit distant from his teammates, but would lean in to speak to you and make sure you were doing okay. On your left, Oliver was switching between speaking to you and chattering to his teammates. He asked questions about how you’ve been doing, interested in your studies and excited that you’d graduated. He knew how hard you worked from past conversations and hearing Rin try to figure out how to send care packages from different countries to get you through exams, and he told you that he was proud of you for such a big accomplishment. 

“Let me take you out to celebrate. Just the two of us,” Oliver requests, his smile nothing short of charming despite Rin’s scoff behind you. He never let Rin’s attitude deter him from what he wanted, and you did like that about Oliver. The fact that he was handsome just happened to be a plus. 

You want to say no, you really do. The thought of spending time with people outside of your apartment, without Rin to act as a buffer and remove you from the situation when you started to get emotional was terrifying. But the nudge from Rin happens, and you know that it’d be for the best that you develop habits that don’t include crying over Itoshi Sae and and you need to make more friends that weren’t at your job. So you nod, smile on your face as you tell Oliver that you’d really like for him to take you out. 

A couple years pass by, and you end up in a serious relationship with Oliver Aiku. It’s a very public affair, him flying you out for matches and always kissing you very passionately after victories - one time practically jumping into the stands to get to you. He loved you loudly, proudly, and would show you off at every opportunity to the point where you spent more time working remotely from whatever country he wanted you in than being in your office. 

His pride in being with you is what brought you to an annual gala, complete with the nice expensive dress that coordinated beautifully with his suit. The pocket square even sparkled in the light like your dress did, a very important detail to him as he was dress shopping with you. 

And he liked to be by your side, hand held in his or his arm around your waist as you chatted with his teammates or other players that you knew through him and Rin, but he also gave you space. If you excused yourself, he’d check in only briefly to make sure you were okay before letting you know to let him know if you needed him. And when you excused yourself at this gala, telling him you were going to use the restroom before getting more champagne for the both of you, he let you go with a kiss on your cheek and a gentle but discrete pat to your ass with a grin that you couldn’t help but adore. 

You know that you love Oliver; you love the way he treats you and the way that he loves you - with no question or hesitation to tell and show you how much he cared. Rin didn’t hate the relationship, he just wished Oliver was more mindful of the environment before making a scene after matches, but most of all Rin was happy that you were happy. His brother wasn’t a constant source of emotional pain for you anymore, Oliver made sure of that, and that’s all Rin truly wanted for you: happiness and to feel like you were chosen for once. You knew you’d never force the ultimatum that was you or a soccer career, but knowing that Oliver would drop anything except for a match to get to you if you needed him meant so much more than you think he’d understand after your history of dealing with Sae. A history that he has gotten bits and pieces of, but not quite the full story. Rin would never dig up that history without your permission, but you share bits and pieces when he asks well timed questions. 

You love Oliver, but running into Sae as you leave the restroom has you stopped in your tracks and you can tell he’s also put off by the sudden rendezvous. While you were always at these events at Oliver’s side, you’d managed to avoid crossing paths with Sae since he very rarely showed up to them. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and were hoping that you’d never have to see him again after you’d officially severed the ties that bound you to him. But here he was, and you stand in silence for a moment before he realizes that you’re not going to say anything to him. 

“You look well,” is all he says, and you nod with as straight a face as you can muster. You couldn’t make a scene here, fighting Itoshi Sae at a JFU event would get you blacklisted and possibly Oliver too. “Thank you, you also look well.”

“Aiku, huh?”

“He never thought I was holding him back. He’s stayed with no hesitation about his career,” you comment, leaning against the wall of the hallway as Sae nods his understanding. “Why’d you leave that night? Don’t bullshit me, either, we’re too old for that.” 

“Truthfully, I was scared. You deserved better than what I was prepared to provide, so I left for your sake.” You’re not buying it, but you would let him live in the delusion that he was doing what was best for you rather than what was best for him . Whatever he needed to sleep at night. “He makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, the thought that he also had made you happy when you were spending time with him dying on your tongue when you swallow. That wouldn’t fix anything for him or for you. “I love him, and he loves me.”

“The way he makes out with you after matches says enough.”

“And you have no place to comment. You had multiple chances, and you chose to push me away every time and go silent so we couldn’t even talk about it. You ran , Itoshi. Oliver doesn’t run.” He sighs, and you roll your eyes at the fact that he wasn’t leaving and was also blocking the hallway so you couldn’t leave easily either. “Would there ever have been a time where you chose me? Or tried to be with me when you weren’t on a break from playing?”

“Why are you so obsessed with causing yourself pain?,” Sae asks, and you shrug while doing your best to keep the emotions at bay. “You still want to cry when you’re angry, but you’re better at stopping yourself now.”

“Maybe I’m just so used to you hurting me, I don’t know what to do when you’re not.” You know that cuts deep, he visibly flinches at that which you wouldn’t expect to see him do in public. “I need to get back before he comes looking and then tries to deck you.” 

That has Sae turning to move past you and into the men’s bathroom, leaving you to take a couple deep breaths before leaving the small hallway and making your way through the various players, executives, and their guests to get back to Oliver. On occasion someone would greet you and you’d stop to chat for a moment to avoid being rude, which results in Oliver making his way to you since you’d been gone for so long. 

You’re conflicted as you dance with Oliver, your head resting on his shoulder as he sways with you in time with the song playing. Sae had been your ultimate wish, and it would’ve been a dream come true to have him choose you at least once. But to know that it wouldn’t have ever happened, not because of Oliver but because of soccer ? A re-entry of the knife that had been thrust into your heart all those years ago. 

“Everything okay?”

“Why do you ask?” You look up from his shoulder, smiling when he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. 

“You were gone a while, and you didn’t come back with the drinks, and you looked a bit upset which is why I went and scooped you up.” He paid such close attention to you, and he kissed your nose again with a soft smile that made you melt all over again. “I’m assuming you ran into him.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. He’s stupid, and I have you and you make me the happiest lady in the world.”

“He fumbled the most beautiful girl in the world, like the idiot he is.”

And you hate soccer, you truly do, but you hate more that you had to dig that grave up again every time you saw Sae - even if it was just in passing. Sae’s impact on your feelings is something you’re not sure you’ll ever have control over, and it’s not fair to Oliver that you’re so easily impacted by another. Oliver was warm , with a smile that could melt glaciers and held you like he would be your defender set to protect you from any harm. You deserved to bask in the sun after spending so long chasing after Sae in the cold darkness that came with his uncertainty. 

“Do you wanna go fuck in the bathroom? Might make you feel better.”

“Tempting offer but I kinda enjoy you being a starter on the team and also employed.”

“You just like a man in uniform.”

“Yeah.” Your agreement has him grinning, you weren’t at all shy about liking how he looked in his gear. “But you’re my favorite man in uniform, Captain.”

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 05

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 15.9k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ 😇😇😇😇 *chin hands sweetly* STRAP IN, FOLKS!!: GANGBANG. this chapter will include three brothers having sex with the reader at the same time (but not with each other). if this bothers you, please feel free to skip!, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (f+m giving/receiving), fingering, face fucking, exhibitionism, voyuerism, da booty getting ate like groceries, assplay, name calling, daddy kink, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, marking, spitroasting, cumplay, bukakke 😭, honestly this is a hot ass MESS and i should be sorry but i’m not 🤷🏽‍♀️ a/n⇢ well, hello~ long time no see!!!! i'm super pumped about this chapter because it has literally been in the works since i planned this whole fic out years ago 😭 a lot of planning and struggling later, and WE FINALLY HERE 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 i am so relieved that this finally exists in the world and not just in my head lmao. thank you all for hanging with me for this long and being so patient. i hope this chapter lives up to your expectations 😈 only the epilogue left! 😮‍💨👀 mood for this chapter is this song~ hope everyone enjoys!

chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist

Days quickly morphed into weeks, time continuing to flow even without you consciously noticing it pass you by. You were just so busy, both your schoolwork and your unconventional part-time job a whirlwind of activity that left you too preoccupied to do much else. Your already scant social life was starting to suffer, but honestly? You were completely fine with that—a neverending schedule of sex, sleep, and studying was more than enough, and it was highly unlikely you would be able to fit anything else onto your overflowing plate anyway.

It was expected for you to not have that much free time, anyway. Jimin’s was waning too, as the further the two of you got into your studies, the busier you both became. You still texted often to make sure each other was alive, but with your differing schedules, the new normal became not getting to see him in person for weeks on end.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t losing steam. Burning the candle at both ends was finally starting to catch up with you, but there wasn’t much you could do about it other than focusing on powering through it. This was the career path you chose—your dream—and so you simply just had to bear everything that came along with it. You were willing to put the work in to reach your goals, and you just kept reminding yourself that how you were living now was just a means to an end. 

Not that you at all only found the Kims to be a means to an end. Yes, they were paying your way through school, but you still really enjoyed the time you spent with each of them. They were all great company in different ways, and at this point, the only time you were freed from the library’s clutches was when one of them wanted to take you somewhere, so you found them to be more of a welcome distraction than anything else. 

Unfortunately, that still didn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, you were bone tired.

You had always been good at compartmentalizing. But though you tried your best to not let your slowly-building fatigue show, even your new employers could tell that you were being ran a bit ragged. Namjoon came to pick you up for a date one day, and all it took was one long look at you while you were trying to buckle your seatbelt for him to put the car in park and hustle you back upstairs instead, despite your protests. You thought that maybe he decided to forgo your movie plans for much more carnal activities, but once you were back inside your apartment, he sprawled himself onto your couch and reached for you. You were confused, but when you reflexively took his hand, he simply pulled you down with him and easily folded you into his body. 

God, he smelled good. And was comfortable and warm, so it didn’t take long for you to nod off, despite only being fifteen minutes into whatever Netflix movie he had put on. Namjoon spent his scheduled date letting you snore into his chest, and when you woke up hours later, groggy and discombobulated, you found him already gone and a blanket thrown over you.

It didn’t take a genius to realize he must have said something to his brothers. The next day, seemingly out of the blue, you got an email notification that Wendy, Seokjin’s assistant, had canceled an upcoming work lunch that had been on the calendar for weeks. (You highly doubted the lunch itself was canceled—just that Jin had decided to go alone.) And you were so used to Taehyung’s frequent visits that when he didn’t stop by for four days in a row, it became blatantly obvious that something was amiss. 

They were giving you space.

But if you were honest, though you appreciated the sudden breathing room in your schedule, all of them suddenly pulling out of the arrangement was making you uneasy. This was a job, after all, and you weren’t fully holding up your end of the bargain. Hell, the week before had been your period, so you hadn’t slept with any of them then, either. And, considering the fact that all three Kims were set to go on an overseas business trip soon, the amount of leave you were inadvertently taking was quickly adding up.  

You needed this money. You needed this money, this was not what they agreed to, and you were nervous you were starting to frustrate them.

To their credit, none of them ever seemed to be. Early on, when your period made its first appearance as the perpetual wrench in your plans, Seokjin had casually informed you that he was totally fine with just putting a towel down. However, when he saw you weren’t nearly as enthused with the idea, he simply gave you an easy shrug and said, “Then take whatever time you need.” His brothers had been equally as accommodating, and have been ever since (though Taehyung sometimes still liked to playfully pout at you when you told him Aunt Flo was in town).

But the fact was, you ultimately weren’t holding up your end of the bargain, and that knowledge was constantly hovering in the back of your mind and making you a bit anxious. That was why, days before he was scheduled to leave for his three week business trip, you took initiative and asked Taehyung if he wanted to come over. 

Both Seokjin and Namjoon had already graciously canceled their standing appointments with you for the second week in a row, but Taehyung had never had a standing appointment. He was always much more spontaneous than his brothers, and that personality trait was no different when it came to you, so that’s what you were counting on.

[1:32] Hey! Did you want to come over tomorrow? [1:32] Or later today, I guess

Despite it being so late, Tae apparently hadn’t gone to bed yet. He was a bit of a night owl, like you.

Taehyung [1:34] Well hello~ Taehyung [1:34] So nice to hear from you, sweetcheeks. How’s it been going? [1:35] Sweetcheeks, Taehyung? Really? Taehyung [1:35] What? They’ve always looked pretty sweet to me 😌👀

You scoffed, amused and fond. Always an incorrigible flirt, that one.

[1:35] Yeah, okay lol  [1:36] So if they’re so sweet, what are you gonna do about it?

A pause, one slightly too long for someone whose phone was in their hand and had been actively responding to you only moments before. You knew you had him even before his reply finally came through.

Taehyung [1:37] What time?

The next day, you focused on getting as much of your work done as you could before the hard stop of when you knew you had to start getting ready. You took a long shower, letting the hot water relax your stiff muscles before carefully maneuvering into the lingerie that was still prettily packaged in the bag from the boutique you got it from, untouched on the floor of your closet since you bought it.

You hadn’t seen him a while, so it only made sense to you to make things a little more exciting than usual. Spice it up. Honestly, sex with Taehyung was always anything with boring, but the thigh-highs you slipped into were just as much for you as him. You had been so focused on your studies that you couldn’t remember the last time you wore anything other than court-approved suits, sweatpants, or pajamas. It would be nice to feel something other than just tired again. To feel desired. Sexy.

And even you could admit the outfit you had chosen was sexy. A crimson, lacy bodysuit thing that did little to obscure the dusk of your nipples and disappeared between your asscheeks. The matching thigh-highs, joined with garters. You even had a pair of heels that you planned to wear—ones that made your legs look a mile long, but hurt like a bitch every time you attempted to wear them out. Despite their shortcomings, you were willing to slip on the deathtraps because luckily, for this particular occasion, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere in them, nor would they stay on you for very long. 

You were even planning on putting on a little makeup, on properly doing your hair for the first time in weeks and giving the bun you had been sporting a rest. However, all it took was a knock on your door to put an end to all those extras.

You frowned at the sound and padded over to your front door, happy you had already thrown on one of your law school hoodies to keep yourself warm until the festivities properly started. The sight of a familiar man through the peephole, hands resting comfortably in his slacks, threw you off.

Automatically, your hands were disengaging all the locks, were swinging the door open. “You’re early—”

Whatever words you had next immediately dissipated on your tongue. Taehyung was there, but he apparently came with company. Your mind whirred, trying to come up with a perfectly logical reason for why all three Kim brothers were at your doorstep right now.  

“Your hair,” you blurted, your scrambled brain latching onto the easiest subject first.

“Hmm?” Taehyung ruffled his newly dyed locks, the onyx hue a stark difference from the silver you were used to. “Oh yeah, I guess I haven’t seen you all week. My dad wanted me to dye it to a more ‘appropriate’ color before the conference. But whatever—it was time for a change, anyway. And this will be much easier to upkeep.”

You could only continue to stare at him as he spoke, your eyes naturally drifting over his shoulder at your additional visitors. 

All three of them were dressed pretty casually, which was normal for Taehyung and Namjoon, but less so for Seokjin when not in the comfort of his own home. The soft pink of his sweatsuit was a stark contrast to the sharp intelligence of his eyes, and he met your gaze for only a few seconds before he was turning to meet Namjoon’s instead, a pinch in his brow. 

Taehyung spoke again before either of them could say anything. “You gonna keep us out here?” he teased, casually leaning against the doorframe.

That finally jumpstarted you out of your haze, scrambling to move out of the way and gesture them inside. “Yes, of course. Come in!” Before your nosy neighbor caught them and assumed you were slutting it up.

(She would technically be right, but still. It was the principle. Your life was none of that judgy old shrew’s business.) 

Tae strolled in like he always did—like he owned the place—but you noticed his brothers’ strides seemed a bit more hesitant than the confidence you were usually witness to. Namjoon’s mouth was slightly pursed in the way you’d long learned meant he was thinking. Why did they seem as confused as you did?

“Hi,” you hedged anyway, a small, puzzled smile on your lips. “It’s been a while. Sorry if I’m acting weird—I just wasn’t expecting you, so I’m a little thrown off.”

Understanding immediately crossed Seokjin’s features, but you only got a second to see it before he was whipping towards his youngest brother, appalled. 

Namjoon was looking at him too, clearly irritated. “Are you serious, Taehyung?”

“What?” you asked, gaze flitting between the three of them in hope of finding some sort of clarity. 

“You never asked her?” Seokjin snapped.

“You know that’s not cool, man,” Namjoon sighed, an agitated hand running though blond locks.  

Why were they standing in your hallway and having whole conversations in front of you like you weren’t even there? “Never asked me what?” you cut in bemusedly, a little louder than you intended. It worked, at least, all three men immediately turning back to you.

Taehyung, for his part, looked properly contrite, cringing a little at the exasperation in your voice. “I’m sorry,” he told the room before placing his attention solidly back on you. His eyes were soft and sincere. “It truly slipped my mind, and I’m sorry, _____. I didn’t think.”

“When do you ever?” Seokjin snarked, but you ignored him, focused solely on Taehyung.

“What, Tae?” you encouraged gently. “What are you sorry for?”

It was clear from the hunch of his shoulders that he felt bad. “Um…”

“He invited us to come with him to meet you today,” Namjoon supplied. He gave his little brother a disappointed shake of his head. “But that’s not a decision for him to make. Is it, Tae.”

“I just knew that none of us have seen her in a while,” Tae whined. “And _____, when you reached out yesterday, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity since we’re about to leave the country for a few weeks.”

“I should have known better,” Seokjin muttered below his breath, looking heavenward in his annoyance. “I’m really sorry about this, _____. You never marked group activities as a no and I assumed Taehyung actually asked you like an adult, so I thought you were on board. I can leave.”

You blinked, still trying to grasp what was going on. “You were…trying to share your time?” you asked Taehyung slowly.

He nodded meekly. “I don’t mind sharing,” came his honest answer.

“But does she,” Seokjin scoffed, rubbing his temples in irritation. “That’s the only thing that matters. And to think otherwise is just selfish, Taehyung.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” The words left your lips before your brain could even register them, likely spurred on by how the increasingly chastened expression on Taehyung’s face. The three of them looked at you in surprise.

“It’s okay?” Namjoon parroted, an eyebrow raised in question.

You swallowed, mind racing to actually consider the consequences of what your mouth had just offered. But your nod of confirmation came almost immediately, because you knew Taehyung had never been trying to trap you. One of the qualities that simply made him him was his spontaneity, and while that made him fun and interesting to be around, it also was a double-edged sword that could easily make you end up in situations like this.

Tae knew none of them had seen you in a while, he knew they were soon going to jet out of the country, and had simply been trying to be nice in inviting his brothers along. He didn’t mean any harm.

“It’s okay,” you repeated, giving him a reassuring smile that visibly loosened some of the tension in his body. “You can all stay.”

The words settled between the four of you, heavy in the resulting quiet. Teeming with implication. You still weren’t completely sure what you were agreeing to, but what you did know was that you were going to need something to help stave off the nerves slowly bubbling beneath your skin. You cleared your throat, turning to make your way to the kitchen. “I think I need a drink.”

You didn’t glance back at them, but you could still feel them trailing you. Feel the heat of their gaze, and even the distinct heat of a body against your back, only a whisper away. Instead, you busied yourself with rooting around in your pantry and pulling out a handle of tequila. 

“This for me?” hummed a familiar velvety voice, close enough for you to easily deduce who had invited himself into your space so intimately. Taehyung. 

You looked over your shoulder at him, immediately frozen with what you saw. His eyes were blatantly trailing your figure, undeterred by the obstacle of your sweatshirt and easily roving your stockinged legs and feet. A dangerous smirk crawled across his face that had a delighted shiver racing down your spine in anticipation. “What?” came your stupefied reply. 

“This.” His gaze lingered on your toes, but quickly rose so he could playfully flick the zipper of your sweatshirt. “Whatever you’ve got on under there. Is it for me?”

Heat licked between your thighs at his deceptively light tone. At the way he was looking at you. “No,” you sniffed. Not wanting to give in just yet. “Just something I wear around the house.”

“Well, it’s nice,” came another voice, and you were instantly reminded of your other guests. Namjoon was leaning against an adjacent counter, eyes dark. “You never wear stuff like this for me—Taehyung must be your favorite.”

Startled despite his teasing tone, your hands flew up in protest. “N-No, it’s not that—”

“Of course I’m the favorite,” Tae sassed, throwing you a wink. “It’s okay to admit it, _____. We all know!” 

There was an almost immediate snort from behind you. Technically quiet enough to go unnoticed, but full of just enough derision that Taehyung’s proverbial hackles raised at the very sound of it. His head whipped to the source.

Jin looked deceptively bored, meeting his youngest brother’s glower with a flat stare. A single lifted eyebrow said everything his mouth deigned not worth the effort. What?

Tae scowled at his brother’s obvious disdain, but then, after a few moments, he simply shot an exhale from his nose and shook his head. “You’re clearly goading me,” he chuckled. “But you know what? It’s not gonna work this time. If you’re gonna be a jackass, you can just go.”

“I think you’re vastly overestimating your importance in this situation,” Seokjin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But what else is new.”

“Guys,” Namjoon sighed, holding up pacifying hands in an attempt to ward off the rising tension.

You observed the whole exchange silently, still too off-kilter from the situation you’d suddenly found yourself in to do much more than look from brother to brother as if you were watching a tennis match. 

This was only the second time the four of you had all been in the same room—with the first being your original meeting discussing the contract. Well, technically third, if you counted that party Taehyung took you to so many months ago—the one that rerouted your life onto this much more interesting path. But the three of them hadn’t really mingled then, so you had been left to speculate their group dynamic. 

Now, though, you were starting to suspect your inklings were true.

Seokjin, the oldest, with lots of responsibility and expectations always set on him. Taehyung, the spoiled youngest who grew up without any of the same restraints, but also without any of the same parental attention. And Namjoon, the calm, stereotypical middle child, the glue who held it all together. The forced peacemaker who made sure that any of his brothers’ unspoken resentment for each other never got too far out of line.

“The only person who can tell me to leave is _____,” Seokjin continued, the sound of your name immediately throwing you out of your thoughts. You straightened, unprepared to suddenly find yourself locking eyes with him and surprised at the intensity you found there. “And is that what you want, _____? Do you want me to leave?”

“No, of course not,” you blurted. You didn’t miss the smug look Jin threw his brother, nor the way Tae’s lips pursed in irritation, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about any of that right now. With a steadying breath, you focused instead on shuffling over to another cabinet and pulling out a glass.

It was starting to hit you. You weren’t sure what in the hell was going on, what exactly it was you agreed to, but whatever it was, you now had all three of your lovers in your apartment at the same time. Respectful of you and your space, but still obviously ogling you—ravenous predators slowly and eagerly circling their next meal.

It all made your skin prickle in anticipation, the thrill of the unknown buzzing in your veins.    

“Choo choo,” you muttered to yourself sarcastically, pouring a healthy amount of tequila into your cup.

Namjoon raised a brow. “What?”

“What?” you parroted immediately, startled that he had heard you.

“I just…nevermind, I thought you said something.”

“Oh. Uh, I was just wondering if any of you wanted any.”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll take some,” Tae piped up brightly, moving into your space before you could blink. Body a breath away as he reached over to you to pull his own cup from the cabinet. You froze at his proximity, unable to look away as he smirked down at you. “Choo choo,” he murmured with a wink.

Before you could react with anything more than a sharp gasp, he was pulling away again, reaching for the tequila bottle.

Jesus.

With a slightly unsteady hand, heart pumping furiously in your chest, you welcomed the burning liquid down your throat, sticking your cup out for Tae to pour you more once it was empty.

“So how have you all been?” you babbled, tone a little too high and strained to be casual. “It’s been so long, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me. Or that you’d made other arrangements or something. I don’t think I’ve ever been paid to be stood up before, that’s kind of embarrassing—” A hand, warm and gentle, rested on your arm, and immediately, all coherent thought escaped your electrified body.   

It was Seokjin, slowly rubbing what he likely thought were calming assurances, but only amping you up more. “She rambles when she’s nervous,” he informed his brothers, the small smile on his lips betraying his endearment.  

“Aw, don’t be nervous, babe. I’ll take good care of you,” Taehyung cooed, effortlessly draining his glass and motioning towards yours. “Want another one?”

No, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing you needed was something that could lower your gag reflex even more. Vomming all over them would certainly make for an interesting going away gift, but then they would most certainly ghost you for real.

You shook your head of the negative thoughts, timidly swiping a tongue over your suddenly very dry lips. “So how exactly is this going to work?”  

“The way it’s always worked,” Tae reassured you with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just you and me. The only difference is that they’re here too—but you don’t have to worry about that. I told them they could only watch.”

It took you a few moments to process that, your eyes silently roving over each of them and finding them all watching you right back. Ready, but waiting. 

Look, don’t touch. Another interesting twist to a night that was already looking to be interesting.

“Is that okay?” Seokjin asked, clearly intending to follow your lead. Leaving the ball in your court. And another glance at the other two showed they obviously shared their older brother’s sentiments. 

A memory flickered teasingly in the corner of your mind—the trepidation of being fucked in front of a window where anyone could see. The undeniable thrill that followed the thought of being watched. 

You swallowed. “Yeah,” you finally replied. “If…you want to.”

“Do you want us to?” Namjoon pressed sternly, refusing to let go of your gaze. Communication, he always insisted. Solid consent, or no consent at all. Yes or no.

All three stared at you. You shifted under their attention, a bit out of your element, but ultimately sure. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Okay,” Namjoon simply replied with an approving nod. With a pleased smile that brought forth dimpled cheeks. But then he shifted towards you more, and the slight change in his stance seemed to completely change his demeanor. His intention. “What’s your safeword?”

You knew he knew it; knew he knew you did as well. The two of you had been together enough times for a rhythm to between you to form, so this repeating of superfluous information was likely solely for his brothers’ benefits.

“Cinnamon.”

“And if you can’t say it?”

“Tap you 3 times.”

“Good.” 

“Safeword?” Taehyung chuckled incredulously, eyes a little wide in surprise. “Well shit.”

“Yeah, and I know how to use it too, if you get out of line,” you teased, but your mind was already elsewhere. It didn’t matter that Tae was the one who would be actively playing with you today—you had spent enough time with Namjoon that you had apparently been conditioned. The blond had asked you your safeword, you repeated it to him, and so the scene had officially started. All of your previous unease ebbed away as you couldn’t help but focus instead on what you were all here for. 

Carefully, you set your glass down on the counter and moved to exit the kitchen, brushing against Taehyung on your way out and shooting a pointed look at him over your shoulder. “You ready?”

“Baby, you know I’m always ready,” he purred, jolted into action and eagerly trailing down the hallway after you. “I’ve just been waiting on you.”

You didn’t bother to turn to see if the others were following you. You knew they were, their very presence somehow making the hallway feel like it was shrinking, overstuffed. Still, you tried not to let that unnerve you, continuing on with purpose until you made it to your destination and were hovering awkwardly next to your bed. 

They all filed into the room, one by one, and you bit your lip, fully out of your element. Three handsome men had allowed you to lure them here, but now that they were? You had no idea what your next move was supposed to be.  

Luckily for you, Tae was more than happy to take initiative, immediately slinking up to your side and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. The gesture was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help but snort, and he simply grinned, pleased with himself for lessening your nerves, even if only a little. He reached for you without a second thought and you let him, eager to fall into more familiar territory. 

Taehyung’s large hands smoothed over your hips, your ass with clear familiarity. A finger curled under the top of your thigh highs, lightly snapping the elastic against your skin. “You really did this is for me, huh?”

The dark look in his eye had the breath catching in your throat. “Shut up,” you scoffed unconvincingly.

He tsked, the wicked curl of his lips ruining any illusion of disappointment. “You know I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

You could only blink in response. You hadn’t known that. Was he serious? Was this another level to his subjugation, or was he just pulling your leg? 

Before your brain had the opportunity to come up with a proper retort, Tae was reaching out a finger to tap the zipper of your sweatshirt, gaze focused on its slow, teasing sway. “So.”

Your brow lifted, an unspoken prompting. 

The swinging zipper almost slowed to a stop, and when he reached out this time, it was to lightly run his thumb over the metal, to slowly roll it between his fingers. You swallowed, the anticipation of what you knew to be coming only adding to the charged silence between you. Distractedly, the tip of his tongue swiped across his lips, drawing your gaze. “You invited me to play,” he finally continued, voice honeyed amber. Crushed velvet. 

As if he hadn’t been playing with you from the moment he entered your apartment. You tilted your head anyway—an invitation and a challenge. “Then let’s play.” 

A small smile touched his lips, clearly pleased that his teasing invoked yours. But he didn’t say anything else, his response simply to finally guide the zipper down its track. Leisurely, unwrapping you like a present and delighting in the underneath.  

And you had technically dressed yourself to be one, so you let him. Let him take his time so he could fully appreciate the swell of your breasts, the purposeful, flirty peek of your nipples through the scarlet lace. You wished you had had the time to properly do your hair and makeup and slip on the heels you had set aside just for the occasion so he could get your full intended effect, but your less than perfect appearance didn’t seem to dissuade Taehyung at all. No, he simply slid his hands under the fabric when he finally got impatient enough—fingers light and palms warm—and pushed the sweatshirt off your shoulders with eyes that were all pupil. His hungry gaze carefully roved your form, a lingering path from head to toe that made your skin tingle in its wake.  

His lips parted, tongue giving them another distracted swipe, and then he finally moved again, making his way to your dresser. Now that his broad form wasn’t blocking your view of the rest of the room, you were quickly reminded of the room’s other occupants. Seokjin and Namjoon still hovered near the doorway, quiet, but obviously also drinking in the sight of you now that they could see you properly. Your breath caught, not used to having so much obvious desire directed at you, the air so thick with it you could practically taste it, heady and syrupy.

A light scraping sound regained your attention, and when you turned your head, you realized Taehyung had pulled open a particular drawer—one that he had quickly became familiar with since the start of your arrangement. He pulled out the lube he was looking for, but was much more interested in something else in there, if the mischievous look on his face was any indicator. “What’s this?” he asked, mouth a delighted box, and before you could chastise him about going through your things without permission, he was already pulling out your wand vibrator. “You got a new toy?”

“It’s not new,” you huffed, slightly embarrassed despite everything. “I just usually keep it in the shower.”

You saw his Adam’s apple dip at that information. Saw the wheels turning behind his eyes before he was quickly shutting the drawer and headed towards the bed with his loot in hand. He sat on the edge and eagerly motioned for you to follow.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at the vibrator he had neglected to put away, but Taehyung just reached for your hand and gently pulled you towards him until you were close enough for him to properly guide onto his lap. “Don’t be like that,” he murmured against your neck, his hot breath against the skin inciting a shiver to run through you. “Gotta prep you for the show.”

Ah yes, the show. He had faced you away from him, so now it was impossible for you to forget your captive audience. At some point, Seokjin had pulled your office chair away from your desk, and now he was lounging across the room, in direct view of the bed. His legs were comfortably spread, almost as if it was an open invitation for you to crawl onto his lap instead. Namjoon, on the other hand, was casually leaning against the desk, arms crossed. Eyes dark.

Lips trailed up your neck, quickly regaining your attention. Taehyung pressed slow kisses into the sensitive skin, humming contentedly when you tilted your head to give him better access. His hands dragged up and down your stockinged legs, his exploration only pausing to playfully snap the garter at your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, heat thrumming through your veins at the action. You felt him smirk, and then he was tactfully lifting your legs by the knees and hooking them around his own one by one. Easily spreading  your thighs by widening his own.

Easily revealing to your unsuspecting employers that your lingerie was crotchless.

The sudden display of your pussy had an immediate effect on the room, though no one said a word. The air was so charged with crackling energy that you shivered, almost breaking out in goosebumps at the onslaught of blatant desire. This close, it was quite easy for you to hear how Tae’s breath hitched, quite easy to interpret the excitement of his fingers, still compulsively tracing over the pattern of your stockings like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Inexplicably, you still found yourself feeling a bit shy at the salacious attention you intentionally brought upon yourself, gaze darting to the floor for a few seconds before you finally chanced a look at the other two from beneath your lashes. Seokjin was busy unabashedly staring at your spread pussy, Adam’s apple bobbing, but Namjoon was unabashedly staring at you, your heart pounding when you locked eyes.

The spell was only broken when an impatient hand guided your head to the side, Taehyung demanding your full attention. After lapping against your pulse one last time, his mouth promptly switched course to your own,  the kiss sweet, but decidedly sloppy due to the angle. In any case, it was easy to quickly lose yourself in the warmth of his lips—at this point, it was all practically reflex—and you were so engrossed in the ebb of his tongue that you completely missed the rather foreboding buzzing in the room until something was being purposefully pressed against the most sensitive part of you.

“Shit,” you gasped, jerking in his hold. But it didn’t matter, because Tae’s other hand was gripping tight at your thigh, ensuring you could do nothing but squirm in his lap, breath quickening in anticipation. 

“Hm?” came his casual response. You knew from experience that he only had your vibrator on the first or second level, but the way his restless fingers still plucked at your stockings told you he was nowhere near done with you. Let’s play you had teased, and he clearly intended to do just that. 

Before your thoughts could linger too long on how intense this night was likely going to be, the vibrator was shifted slightly to the side, resting momentarily on your thigh so Taehyung could reach for the bottle of lube and give it a generous squeeze. 

“What’s your plan?” you breathed, the question inane even to your own ears. But the words escaped you before you could even properly process them, needing to say something in an effort to distract yourself from the muted vibrations that were still trickling up your leg to your core. 

Tae let out an amused exhale, clearly not fooled by your feigned nonchalance. He humored you anyway, despite your very obvious failings to suppress a shiver. “Gotta prep you,” he answered huskily, busy warming the lube with his fingers and making them visibly slick in the process.

You only had one moment—two—before you felt him sliding a finger across the seam of you. Slowly dragging the digit up from your entrance to your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves just enough to make your breath catch, then drifting his way back down again.

“Don’t tease,” you murmured. 

That earned you a chuckle in response. “Don’t you think you’re the one being the tease here? Texting out of the blue and wearing this—”another snap of your garter against your thigh, to punctuate his point—“when you knew damn well it would drive me crazy?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like I was being pretty direct to me.”

Another chuckle. “Fair.” And without further preamble, he slipped a finger in you, your relief leaving you in a shuddery exhale. “That better?”

“M-Much.”

“How about this?”

Another finger, plunging into your willing heat and making another relieved sigh escape you at the stretch. “We’re getting there.”

You didn’t have to be able to see him to know he was grinning, always one to be entertained by the easy banter between you. Tae didn't say anything, his response better communicated by a scrape of his teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck, settling to suck on your pulse point. 

You didn’t bother hiding your shiver this time, unconsciously slumping further against him, hips reflexively jerking forward to pull him in deeper.

Taehyung added a third finger, snapping and scissoring and pressing and curling. Seducing your body’s natural resistance until you really started to betray your need, hips canting greedily towards his thrusts, whines erupting from your throat.

“You’re enjoying this already, baby?” Tae cooed, delighted by how responsive you were being. “I’ve barely done anything.”

You just nodded distractedly, the familiar warmth that was building in your core and creeping down your legs making it hard to think about anything else. Still, you couldn’t help your gaze being drawn to the other occupants of the room, who seemed to be frozen in time, dutifully having not moved from their posts. Completely enraptured by the way their brother meticulously worked you open.

Tae breathed hot into the shell of your ear. “You like it when they watch you?” came his knowing whisper, a nip against the cartilage punctuating his point. “Like for them to see how good I make you feel? Hmmm? What if we show them how good you take this dick?”

Your pussy fluttered. Tae cussed under his breath, teased with the wet, pulsing grip of you and falling deeper into his own fantasy. “Fuckkk, you’re dripping all over my hand, baby. I would probably just slide right in, wouldn’t I?”

“Yesss,” you moaned. “I can take it, baby.”

“I know you can. With this perfect fucking pussy. But what if we played some more? Got you nice and juicy for me?”

“I’m always juicy,” you sassed back, but any more retorts died on your tongue when you saw him reach again for the momentarily forgotten vibrator. 

Tae’s arms circled around you, his chin slotting into the crook of your neck so he could get a better look of what he intended to do. The vibrator was turned up from its low rumble and pressed unceremoniously against you, and you yelped, jolting in his hold. It was too much, and you couldn’t help but writhe against him. Still, you welcomed the sudden intensity, desperate whines freely escaping you as you hurtled toward your peak. Tae only fingered you faster in response, the undoubtedly sloppy sounds drowned out by the vibrator. “I could slide right in, but I won’t cause it’s much more fun this way. Especially since we haven’t seen each other in a while. More fun for everybody if take our time, right, baby? So how about you cum on my fingers first, and then you can pick everywhere else on me you’d like to cum?”

You could only moan freely, just like how Tae liked. If you weren’t so distracted by the way he was fucking stars behind your eyelids, you would have noticed just how affected your spectators were becoming at your display. The shifting, the subtle rubbing over pants.

But as it were, you were completely preoccupied by your swift descent into madness, your hand desperately scrabbling for purchase before ultimately rooting itself in the hair at Taehyung’s nape to await your rapidly approaching release. Because at this point, your orgasm was inevitable, your thighs quivering with the sheer force of it, every atom of you hyper-focused on achieving that satisfying end goal. 

Until the sudden sound of a certain voice knocked you out of your trance. 

“Stop.”

You jolted as if touching a live wire, hand immediately wrapping around Taehyung’s wrist like a vice and yanking the vibrator away from you. 

For a few moments, the room was silent, save the rumble of the toy and your heavy breathing. But Taehyung was too baffled to let what just happened slide. “What’s the matter?”  

You nervously licked your lips, too frozen in Namjoon’s dark stare to answer his younger brother.

“You know better,” came the blond’s low admonishment, Seokjin turning to look at him in bewilderment. 

And you did know better—when you were with Namjoon, you were not allowed to cum without his express permission. It was a game the two of you played that you often lost, despite your valiant efforts. It just never occurred to you that you would still be expected to play in Namjoon’s general presence, whether he was the one touching you or not. 

Jittery with your aborted orgasm and nervous excitement, you looked away, your eyes automatically averted submissively to the floor in a last effort to assuage him. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you replied softly.

“Daddy?” Taehyung repeated incredulously. “What the fuck?” In his confusion, his hold on you slackened, and, nervous he wouldn’t take the hint otherwise, you used the opportunity to shift his fingers out of you and stumble forward on wobbly legs.

“Take your clothes off,” was your reply, breath labored and skin already veiled in a light sheen of sweat. You needed to distract him from asking too many questions right now. Needed to distract yourself from just how strongly your body was begging to fall apart.

Tae was still confused, but he didn’t need to be told twice. Off came his button-down shirt, each button popped open just roughly enough that you were surprised none of them ended up scattered across the floor in his haste. Off came his slacks, unzipped and then easily slipped down his slim hips. He paused when reaching for his underwear though, eyes narrowing at something behind you.

You didn’t even get the chance to turn around to investigate what had caught his attention before you felt it—the distinct feeling of someone hovering in your space, close enough you could feel his body heat radiating against you.  

“Hey sweetheart,” came a familiar husky voice, goosebumps rippling across your body at the feel of Seokjin’s hot breath ghosting up your neck. “Can I touch you?”

“Hey,” Tae scowled.

“_____?” Jin interrupted, still only millimeters away. A whisper away, but never touching, waiting for the only permission he truly needed—yours. Not Taehyung’s.  

Without a second thought, you leaned back against him, delighting in the feel of his body slotting so naturally into yours. “Yes,” you breathed, pressing your ass further into what could only be the hard jut of his cock.  

Soft, plush lips trailed up your neck instantly, large hands sliding over your hips and around your waist. You immediately melted into him, your body well-trained and eager for the pleasure it knew those lips and hands would deliver. 

“This wasn’t the deal,” Tae huffed, eyebrows scrunched in irritation as he finally slid off his boxer briefs. Drawn like a magnet, your eyes fell to the bounce of his freed cock, tip already shiny with precum.

Seokjin tutted distractedly, too busy nibbling along your jaw to give his youngest brother much attention. “You need to learn to share, Taehyung. The rest of society learned that concept when we were toddlers.”

“Whatever,” Tae grumbled, clearly not happy with the way the night was turning out. He only allowed his brother a few more seconds to have his way with you before he was reaching for your hands and walking you back towards the bed.  

You gasped in surprise when the world was suddenly off-kilter, your hands reflexively scrambling to hold onto Tae for balance, but it was only when the two of you landed on the mattress that you realized he had purposely tipped you into him, your chests flush. 

“Really, Taehyung?” you laughed, now conveniently in his embrace instead of Seokjin’s. 

Tae just grinned in response, so close that his nose brushed yours. Cheekily, his hands worked the flesh of your behind.

“I’ve been wondering where those have been coming from,” you heard Seokjin say behind you, and your face heated up in realization of what he was talking about, once again shy to be so on display and open for scrutiny. You had forgotten how mottled the skin of your ass still looked, and it was a little embarrassing to be called out on it. Time apart meant the bruises were near the end of their healing stage, but though you no longer sported marks of potentially alarming colors, their faded remnants still branded you in the distinct shape of a hand. 

“If you were wondering, why didn’t you ask,” you countered, tucking your face in Tae’s neck to help hide your flustered state. 

“Because that’s rude,” Jin answered easily, his own hand reaching over to gently smooth over the discolored skin. “And it’s really none of my business.”

“I think they’re pretty,” Taehyung cut in from below you. This close, you could feel the rumble of his declaration, could feel the heat of his stare. Of his want.

“So do I.”

A different voice, one that made an undeniably eager shiver run through you. Slowly, you lifted your head and turned, and there was Namjoon, still standing across from the bed, eyes all pupil.

The way he was looking at you…desire rippled through your whole body in response, your next words leaving your lips before you could even process them. 

“Are you going to touch me too, Daddy?”

The room was quiet, the question marinating long enough that the air became thick and heavy with the resulting tension. Just when you thought you might suffocate, Namjoon finally tilted his head. Slowly—a predator locked in on prey, playing with his meal simply for his own amusement—he stalked closer to the bed. He walked past Seokjin and made it all the way to the foot of the mattress, close enough to touch you if he so pleased.

The burn of his gaze was somehow stronger now that he was closer, a palpable energy that drew you like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help but scramble upright when he was finally right in front of you, clambering to your knees despite Tae’s clear reluctance to let you go.

“Do you want me to?” Namjoon asked passively. He looked down at you, seemingly unimpressed by how eagerly you knelt on the mattress, just waiting for him to join you on it. “You already have enough people taking care of you. Are you really that greedy?”

“Yes,” you shivered, the action involuntary but wanting. “Want you too, Daddy.”

“Hm.” The single syllable was dismissive, but your previous time spent with Namjoon had taught you not to take that at face value. That you had to have patience, that if you simply waited him out, you would always eventually get what you wanted.

As if proving your point, Namjoon silently considered you for a few more seconds before his eyebrow finally raised in challenge. “Open,” he demanded. 

Your jaw dropped instantly, tongue out, and he smiled, pleased at your obedient response.  

You weren’t sure you had the energy to be bratty to him today when his brothers were still in the mix too. 

“Good,” Namjoon cooed, all dimples and boy next door. The boy next door who firmly grasped your chin, lifting your head a little and leaning down. But though your eyelashes fluttered in preparation for the slot of his mouth against yours, it never came. Namjoon paused, slanted eyes quietly observing you, then spit in your open mouth instead.

“Jesus,” came Taehyung’s awed reply from behind you, but you were too busy trying not to whimper, thighs squeezing together with sudden want. Namjoon hadn’t told you you could swallow, so you didn’t, drool starting to collect until it overflowed and dribbled down your jaw. 

“Very good,” Namjoon murmured, and this time, he did lean down to kiss you, all wet and sloppy. You eagerly pushed further into his space, blood thrumming with your need for more, but he pulled away before you could get too carried away. He cleared his throat, lips pink and spit-slicked. “Gonna keep being a good girl for us today?”

You immediately nodded, a thrill going through you at the way the action rapidly made his expression steel over. He tsked condescendingly. “Now, now, you know better than to not speak when spoken to.”

“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Well, that definitely answers the mystery bruises.” It was Seokjin, now behind you. Somehow you hadn’t noticed him discard his shirt and climb onto the bed, too caught in Namjoon’s spell. You felt his hands drifting across your waist again, roaming up to cup your breasts and lightly pinch at your nipples through the lace. You whimpered, arching eagerly into his touch.

“Oh come on,” Taehyung whined. A turn of your head produced him, naked and sulking in the middle of the bed. “It was supposed to be my turn.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his cute pout, dutifully extracting yourself from Jin’s hold to crawl your way towards the youngest brother. “Don’t worry, baby. I know how to multitask.”

He greedily grabbed you as soon as you were in reach, holding you tight to his chest and plopping back onto the bed so you were once again on top of him, knees straddling his hips. You giggled again at his antics, flattered by his sudden possessiveness, and Tae playfully nipped at your collarbone in retaliation. 

The bed dipped behind you, and then there was Seokjin again, undeterred by Tae’s petulant behavior. “Not only are you bad at sharing, but you’re only thinking about yourself,” he scoffed, grabbing your hips without preamble. “What about _____?”

Taehyung immediately bristled beneath you. 

“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure, but before you could properly defend him, you suddenly found yourself face down and ass up, the sudden appearance of a tongue swiping through your slit rendering you shuddery and brain dead. “Fuck. Jin—”

You felt Seokjin’s smirk against you. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said huskily, hot breath ghosting over your most private of parts. “Couldn’t help myself. You dressed my meal up so pretty.”

That was fair, you supposed. That he made proper use of the easy access your lingerie provided, that he gave himself the opportunity to admire the tiny lacy hearts on your garter belt up close. But Seokjin didn’t allow himself to preen for very long, his focus immediately turning back to the task at hand. Laving hot and slow, your whole body tingling down to your toes.

Unconsciously, you pushed back further into his face, and Jin hummed approvingly, massaging your asscheeks, large hands spreading them apart so he could get as close to you as humanly possible. His enthusiasm has always been so fucking sexy, and you knew he wasn’t playing it up for theatrics when the slurping sounds started. You were that turned on, still frustrated from being led to the edge of the proverbial cliff and not allowed to jump, and Seokjin was more than happy to help himself to the honey he was coaxing from between your thighs. 

A haze was starting to take over you, completely focused on how good he was eating you out, on how hot you were, sweat and desire prickling your skin. Your hips mindlessly circling while you vaguely tried not to drool on Taehyung’s chest. 

Not that Tae seemed to mind much, hands idly roaming whatever stretch of skin he could touch, content to watch how your expression twisted and eyes glazed over as lust easily towed you under.

Seokjin pulled back a bit, chuckling at your whines of protest when he did so. But the familiar click of a top being popped open shut you up, lifting your head and looking over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions. The lube was a bit cold when it hit your asshole, and Jin wasn’t shy with the amount he squeezed out. His eyes were completely blown, enraptured by its slow decent, watching the lube trail through your pubic hair and down your slit. A distracted tongue swept across his lips, completely focused on sliding his fingers through the slick and making everything somehow even more wet. 

You shivered at his touch, thighs twitching as his long fingers smoothed the lube over your bundle of nerves in sure, purposeful circles. He leaned in again, tongue blazing a hot, meandering trail up the inside of your thigh and giving the sensitive skin there a playful nip before his fervent licks returned. Tongue slipping down to caress your clit, wandering back up to dip into your throbbing cunt, and dragging back down again. 

It was on one of these passes that Seokjin accidentally drifted a bit too high, your undulating hips causing him to lap over your asshole instead. You moaned, loud, and he immediately froze. 

It was clear neither of you had been expecting that reaction. But while you could only describe the look on his face as light surprise, you couldn’t help but duck your head in embarrassment.

“What’s the matter?” Taehyung breathed into your hair, wondering what halted the activities.

You weren’t really sure what to say, now embarrassed by your embarrassment. But it turned out you didn’t have to say anything, Seokjin curiously testing the waters by leaning in and placing a chaste kiss against your rim. When you didn’t do anything but suck in a breath, his tongue dipped out again for a tentative lick. You shuddered, ass reflexively bucking towards him instead of pulling away, and that was all the confirmation he needed. His hands palmed your asscheeks again, spreading them open to give himself more room to press his tongue against you more confidently, and you trembled in response.

It was a foreign sensation, but not bad. You technically hadn’t marked this as a no when signing your contract, but it never even crossed your mind that getting your booty ate would be a very real possibility. You weren’t against assplay per se—you simply had never experienced it before. And never in a million years would you have expected it to feel like this. 

“Mmmm, that’s good,” you couldn’t help but whimper. Electricity licked up your spine when his sloppy tongue slowly circled around the tight ring of muscle. Unbidden, your hand reached back, gliding through his hair before rooting itself and pulling in an attempt to get him impossibly closer to you. 

Seokjin hummed approvingly at the your enthusiasm, the sound almost sounding like he was blowing bubbles with the way you were now shoving his face between your asscheeks. Leaning somehow further into it, he ate you out with a vigor that told you he was clearly pleased you were using him to get yourself off. You melted into his ministrations, a whine falling from your lips when he gently slipped his sinful tongue inside you, the foreign feeling making your toes curl in unexpected pleasure. 

You were getting worked up. With nothing more than his mouth, Seokjin was easily restoking the blazing fire within you that only minutes before had been forced to embers. You were getting worked up, and the more you moaned and gyrated against him, the more Taehyung’s fingers twitched restlessly against your skin. If you had been in your right mind, you would have noticed his rising agitation and wouldn’t have been surprised when he suddenly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and pulled you away from his brother. Instead, you blinked at him dazedly, pelvises flush after momentum had you inadvertently scooting further up his body.  

“I’ve shared enough,” he growled, irritated. “It’s my turn now.” Another pull, and you were back on his lap, his leaking erection grinding pointedly against your slick folds. “C’mere, baby—fucking sit it on it.” 

You were dazed, already pretty fucked out even though things were just getting started. The constant influx of pleasure was striking all your coherent thought, unable to understand anything other than finally being able to cross the finish line. And you knew from experience that Taehyung’s massive dick was a great way to get there, so you didn’t mind at all when he continued to maneuver you as he pleased, large hands canting your hips at a proper angle to receive him. 

Your breath hitched when he finally sunk into your fervid body. You were so turned on and wet at that point that it didn’t hurt the slightest, but he was so big that the very pressure of him forcing your walls apart caused your eyes to roll back in your head, your nails pressing crescent moons into the caramel of his skin. “Ungh—”    

“Shit,” Tae groaned, fingers tightening on your thighs at the wet grip of you. “Feel so fucking good, baby. Always so fucking good.”

He was buried balls deep, too on edge to give you any more than a few seconds to adjust before he was bucking wildly into you, easily scraping against your spongy nerves with every unforgiving stroke. You couldn’t do much more than take it, unfiltered moans readily escaping you. Hot and low, like they were generated deep in your pussy and Taehyung was hard at work fucking them up and out of your mouth.

You were so worked up at this point that you knew you weren’t going to last much longer, your walls tightening more and more by the second, your whole body trembling in preparation of the inevitable.

 “_____,” Namjoon snapped.

It took some effort to lift your head from where you had buried it in Tae’s neck, startled into blearily looking up to meet the middle brother’s steely gaze. Your mind raced, flustered and trying to understand how you had somehow forgotten about him. When his lips curled with a whisper of a smirk, it instantly dawned on you that him fading into the background had been entirely by design.

Namjoon had allowed you to be distracted by his brothers. Had allowed them to have all the fun while he quietly watched your slow, uncontrollable descent into carnality. Because he knew that all he had to do was wait, and you would inevitably disobey him.

And then his fun would start.

You had played your part in his little game, cockily swaggered your way right into his trap with thigh highs and a smile. Too naive to notice that the situation had been rigged from the start, and now that everything was in motion, it was far too late to save yourself from your oncoming reckoning. 

You were gasping, the pistoning of Taehyung’s cock setting all of your nerves alight and making it hard not to meet him thrust for thrust, trapped in meeting Namjoon’s stare through your wet lashes. He had moved to stand at the foot of the bed, close enough to touch, and he was the only person in the room who was still, bafflingly, fully-dressed.

“Please,” you babbled, too far gone to even know who your begging was directed towards. “Please, I—” Your body spazzed violently, only contained by Tae’s bruising grip as he relentlessly continued to plow into you. “Ohhh godddd! Fuckkk—ah, ahhhh—”

Against your best efforts, your cunt locked down, hard. So hard you forgot to breathe, pleasure and relief finally flooding your veins as you stuffed your face into Tae’s neck to ride it out, bucking and whining and incoherent.

Taehyung made a loud, choked noise, the feeling of you pulsing around him throwing him further into his trance. “Fuck yeah,” he growled, fingers digging into your thighs punishingly. Drilling into you harder, your release heightening his desperation for his own. Biology making him single-minded, manic, even when you started to mewl in oversensitivity. “Squeezing me so tight. Cream me good, baby. Fuck.” 

You continued to tremble, nothing more at this point than sparking nerve endings. Tae lifted his head a little to lick into your awaiting mouth, kissing you wet and wild and desperate while still plunging deep inside you.  

But even though you did nothing to attempt to control the torrent of whines freely spilling from your tongue, in the back of your mind, you still had the good sense to be nervous. Because even without seeing his face, you already knew Namjoon was pissed. 

You had failed.

As if confirming your thoughts, fingers wrapped around your hair and pulled, naturally ripping your lips from Taehyung’s and forcing your head to lift. With nowhere to hide, you were forced to meet the full intensity of Namjoon’s glare. 

“What did I say,” he demanded darkly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Your blood pounded excitedly.

“Cut her some slack, Namjoon,” came Jin’s mild reply from behind you. Your eyes widened, not expecting his dismissive tone to go over very well. 

Namjoon didn’t acknowledge his older brother, instead focusing his attention on his younger. A carefully controlled tempest that was moments away from unleashing its wrath. “Taehyung. Move.”

The swivel of Tae’s hips slowed, but didn’t stop. He was too on edge, too close to joining you in bliss. “I—g-give me a minute, hyung—”

“Move.” 

You could feel just how reluctant Tae was to comply—his rutting finally stopped, but his hips still instinctually twitching in a primal need to keep fucking you. Still, something in his brother’s tone made his protest cut off in his throat, and after a few labored, frustrated breaths, he obediently slipped out of you. 

You whimpered at the loss, your toes curling at the resulting friction. Between the cum that had long been leaking from you and dribbling down your thighs and the mess Tae’s cock was making in his excitement, it was hot and sticky where your bodies slotted together, and you couldn’t help the way you senselessly started to grind against him, lashes fluttering at the feeling.  

Namjoon scoffed at your clear desperation. “You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” he snapped, grip still firm in your hair. “For him to cum inside you.”

You shivered at the thought, a little embarrassed that you were so obvious. “Yes, Daddy,” you murmured, releasing a shuttering breath when you felt Tae’s slick cock jump against your stomach at your admission.

“Well you’ve been bad,” Namjoon replied slowly, as you weren’t very bright, “so you don’t get to have what you want.” He took a step forward, legs knocking into the edge of the bed, now only a breath away, and you licked your lips, mentally preparing for what you knew would come.

But before he could get any closer to you—before Taehyung could even slide from beneath you—there were once again hands on your hips.

“Hey!” Tae snapped irritably, but whatever he had to say was drowned out by your surprised, rather pathetic choking when, with a delicious roll of his hips, Seokjin unexpectedly sank inside your pliant body, thoroughly making himself at home exactly where Tae had been forced to vacate. You had been so focused on Namjoon that you somehow missed the weight shifting behind you, the telltale rustling of clothing as he pushed is sweatpants down his hips enough to free his cock so he could stuff you the hilt. 

You had been saved by the eldest Kim, at least for now. But for how long would he really be able to delay your punishment?

Since he was still holding you by the hair, you could easily see the emotions flicker across Namjoon’s face at his older brother butting in, but his expression quickly settled into something mirroring cool indifference.

You knew better. Namjoon was a patient man, but you doubted he would let your disobedience slide so easily. 

Seemingly uncaring of either of his brothers’ vexation, Seokjin rode your ass, hips rolling forward in constant waves, strokes long and deep and pointed. Clearly wanting to keep you mewling for him. 

And as you did just that, you rapidly realized that saving you from Namjoon’s wrath had never been his intention. No, he simply liked you just like this, whiny and shivery and too fucked out to care that you were drooling and desperate. 

“You feel it, sweetheart?” he asked, voice melodic and sweet. Leaning over to press plump lips up your spine and sucking on a rather sensitive spot at the back of your neck. 

“Yesss,” you whined. You could feel everything, could feel the ripple of your ass every time his hips slammed against it, could feel every ridge of his cock that scraped against your insides. Sparks shot through you after every stroke, your clit forced to drag across Tae’s stomach with the force. “Fuck, you’re so big and deep, fuck, fuck.”

Seokjin just hummed, playing your body like a fiddle and pleased by how it was responding to him. Breath stuttering, toes curling, fingers gripping the sheets.

But despite how good he was making you feel, you weren’t too fucked out to overlook Namjoon this time. No, this time forgetting him was impossible, the middle brother doing nothing to hide his massive presence. He towered over you, intently watching you get railed by his older brother, and the barely suppressed fury you could sense radiating off him was making your cunt throb and head spin. 

“I’m sorry, D-Daddy,” you stuttered, everything tingling at the look he fixed you with in response. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Are you?” he asked lowly, a tic in his jaw. He let the question marinate for a few moments, let you simmer beneath his intense stare. Just when you felt the overwhelming compulsion to apologize again, he finally reached for you, a single finger lifting your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze directly. With a patronizing tilt of his head, he popped open the button on his pants. “Then make it up to me.”

You were already pushing yourself to your hands and knees, desperate to please. Taehyung’s hands drifted up your sides to steady you, your body trembling from the way Seokjin still reamed into you, undeterred. You reached out for the band of Namjoon’s pants, trying to get to the important bits, but he simply tutted and smacked your hand away.

“Mouth,” he said simply, the single word full of derision.

So you leaned forward again, this time using the tip of your nose to part his fly and give you proper access to his clothed cock. He was thick and swollen already, straining against the material, and you felt him stir with interest when you mouthed at him through the fabric. Coquettish licks lapping hot against the length of him and making his hips reflexively shift forward, unconsciously chasing the stimulation. You licked and sucked until there was a noticeable wet patch, doing your best to show that your apology was sincere and give him your full attention. 

But that was hard to do when his brothers were busy giving you their full attention.

Seokjin was in a trance, fingers sinking into your thighs so he could properly hammer into you. Thrusts steady and coaxing your pussy to leak its praises, your thighs sticky with your essence. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, was getting noticeably antsy beneath you, fingers increasingly twitching against your damp skin the longer his brothers got more of your attention. You looked down, and the furrow of his brow and downturn of his lips were your last clues to his growing jealousy before he took action, hand reaching up to drag through the mess you were making before his thumb sought your clit, rolling and pinching. You bucked and squealed, the extra stimulation rocking you to your core and making your walls pulse dangerously enough that you found yourself squirming to escape him, grabbing Tae’s wrist for the second time that night in an act of self-preservation.

He was undeterred, rerouting his focus to your chest instead. With impatient hands, he yanked on the cups of your bodysuit, a concerning ripping noise immediately filling the room at the action. Before you could even say anything, he was already lifting his head to eagerly bite and suckle on your newly freed tits, tongue curling around a pebbled nipple and mumbling “I’ll buy you another one.”

Switching from one erogenous zone to another did nothing to quell your desire, but at least the stimulation wasn’t as intense. This you could safely enjoy, lashes fluttering, chest inadvertently pushing further into his face in silent encouragement.

And encourage you did, Taehyung creating enough suction with his mouth to properly burst capillaries. Contentedly littering your skin with marks you allowed, comfortable in knowing this was a region easily covered by your clothes. 

Determined not to lose focus, you leaned forward again to continue giving Namjoon your full attention, trying to strategize the best way to get at him without using your hands. But either Namjoon finally decided to take pity on you or he was getting impatient too, because it was his own hands that reached down, only bothering to disturb his waistband enough to free his already leaking cock.

You didn’t know if it was a conditioned response from your past escapades or simply the extremely sexy sight of him giving himself a few firm, confident pumps. Either way, you felt it when you started to salivate, aching to properly taste him.

Your enthusiasm must have shown on your face, because the blond man simply smirked down at you knowingly, thumb slowly running over a prominent vein and further smearing his own mess around. “Well?” he prompted, almost sounding bored. You knew he wasn’t. That he was rock hard and dribbling precum, that his eyes were hooded yet laser-focused on the way his brothers devoured you—those were clues enough. Still, you couldn’t help the fire his feigned disinterest lit low in your belly, desperate to please him.      

You started low, turning your head so you could playfully tongue first at his balls before making the long trek up the massive length of him, taking care not to accidentally involve your teeth from the way Seokjin’s thrusts were rocking you forward. Finally, you took him in your mouth, suckling on the weeping head. Humming contentedly at the salty taste and meeting his blown eyes from beneath your lashes.

Namjoon’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything, hips twitching forward when you pressed your tongue into his slit.

You didn’t notice at first. To be fair, you were plenty preoccupied with everything else going on, with all other sensations. So you didn’t notice Taehyung’s hand drifting over your hip until he was cupping one of your asscheeks, fingers teasing further inward. 

Before you could say anything, a finger sunk itself into your cunt, right next to where Jin was still plowing into you. You groaned, eyes rolling back at the added stretch, but the oldest brother wasn’t as pleased by the intrusion.    

“Taehyung,” he said gruffly, voice deep with irritation and thinly-veiled hunger. But Tae just pumped the long digit into you a few times and then slowly backtracked, lightly trailing the slick back up the cleft of your ass.

“Relax,” came Tae’s mellow reply, and when he started circling a questioning finger around your rim, you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or Seokjin. 

Still, you shivered, breath stuttering when you realized where this was going. When the finger did nothing more than circle and lightly press against you, you released Namjoon’s cockhead from between your lips, eyes fluttering. “Yes,” you breathed hot against Namjoon’s crotch, understanding what Tae was wordlessly asking you. 

A glance down produced Taehyung, eyes all pupil, tongue lolling thoughtfully in his mouth as he watched you tremble above him, tits rippling and swaying from Seokjin’s force. Finger mindlessly continuing the massaging of your hole. He locked eyes with you, making sure he understood, and then slowly started pressing the slick digit into your asshole.

You whimpered, fighting against your instinct to clamp down on him. Relax. Relax. It didn’t hurt exactly—was just pressure where you weren’t used to having any. And Tae made sure to go at a glacial pace, made sure to keep massaging your insides, to help you acclimate to the intrusion. 

Distantly, you felt Jin’s thrusts slow to something much more languid, and you had a feeling the way your body was opening up for his youngest brother was more than a little distracting.

“Good?” Tae asked shakily, sinking into you bit by bit. 

“Yes,” you slurred, completely fucked out. Tae’s always had large hands with long, elegant fingers, and right now, when he kept going further and further in, you were becoming privy to just how long they actually were. Your eyes threatened to roll back when his last knuckle finally breached you, and when he gave you a cursory tap after a few seconds, you had to swallow a moan. 

Rather affectionately, Namjoon started caressing your face, bringing your attention back to him. Dazed, you put him back in your mouth, continuing to suck him and trying not to think about how Seokjin was revving his pace back up and Taehyung was tapping your insides in tandem. Namjoon just smiled softly down at you, and it was so sweet that you almost don’t see what happened next coming, too preoccupied with everything else that was going on. Gently, his hand drifted up—and gripped you securely by the hair, cock suddenly surging down your throat. You immediately gagged, throat repeatedly convulsing around him, and he grunted appreciatively at the feeling before pulling all the way out. Cheeks still sweetly dimpling at how wrecked you were.

And wrecked was the only way to describe you. You were gasping, jaw glistening with spit. Eyes watering and whole body twitching from all the relentless stimulation.

Namjoon only gave you a few seconds to gain your bearings before a pull of your hair had your head snapping back. Before his cock was pushing back into your panting mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat this time, taking stuttered breaths from your nose when his fucking began in earnest. Tried your best to ignore the way your jaw threatened to lock from trying to accommodate the sheer girth of him.

It was a lot. You were feeling sensations from so many areas at once—ass, tits, mouth, cunt—that your brain was absolutely swirling trying to figure out which brother’s ministrations it should be focusing on. And though the pleasure pumping through you was borderline unbearable, you couldn’t even let that overflow of emotion out, your wails stuck bubbling in your chest because you were too busy lewdly gargling on Namjoon’s cock.

You remembered, all those months ago when you’d first been considering whether you should take this job, how you'd poured yourself another glass of wine and reread the contact for the nth time thinking well, I guess I do have three holes. That’s certainly convenient. 

Now that it was happening, however—now that all three of your holes were stuffed and both your mouth and your pussy were dribbling and messy and straining with effort—now, it was nothing short of intense. Nothing hurt, but you were so completely and entirely overwhelmed by all of the feeling that you thought you might just simply burst, your nerve endings crackling free and raining over the room like fireworks.  

It’s too much. It was too much, but right when you were starting to consider giving Namjoon two taps on the wrist—a metaphorical yellow—he backed off on his own, easing some of the pressure. And suddenly your mouth was free, a string of saliva still connecting you to his glistening cock before the tension of him stepping back eventually made it snap.  

Namjoon had eased some of the pressure, but he couldn’t stop more from surging forward in its place. Your body could only take so much of their tortuous teasing before it succumbed to its baser instincts, and it seemed you had finally reached your boiling point. In a trance, you pressed your hips backwards to meet Seokjin’s next stroke, forcing him deeper inside you and making you both shudder. And that small action was all the encouragement he needed, his primal instincts screaming at him to ruin you.

Drilling into you with new purpose, Jin fucked the remaining breath out of your lungs, staccatoed bursts of ah ah ah pouring from your drooling mouth. Panting like an animal in heat, moaning so wantonly that you would be embarrassed if you weren’t already so completely braindead with pleasure. 

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathed, watching your rapid unraveling in amazement. “You’re so fucking hot. Fuck.”

Before even realizing what was happening, you finally shattered around him, your bones liquifying at the intensity and causing you to collapse on Tae, writhing and choking into his neck.

“There you go,” Jin encouraged, words wobbling as he tried to weather the force of how tightly your walls were squeezing him.

Taehyung was curling his finger within you to lengthen your orgasm, was absently rubbing your back to guide you through it. “So perfect,” he whispered, lips fondly brushing against your temple while you shook.

When it finally ended you were left twitching and sensitive, too dizzy from the sheer force of your climax to register the thunder rolling across Namjoon’s face.

His brothers did, though.

An audible squelch filled the room when, without warning, Seokjin pulled completely out of you. Confused, you looked over your shoulder at him, only to suddenly find yourself lifted and tilted, Taehyung surging upright and taking you with him. Unprepared to catch yourself, your back easily hit the mattress, now finding yourself looking up at the three brothers who hovered over you.   

“Hmmm.” Namjoon pretended to think, tone calm but eyes steely. “I could have sworn I specifically told you not to do that.”

“You did,” Jin cut in mildly, looking between the two of you curiously.

Your eyes widened, unprepared for this turn of events. You never would have pegged Jin as such an instigator, but apparently he was very interested in seeing the consequences of your continued disobedience.

Your betrayal must have shown on your face, because Seokjin’s lips pursed in amusement. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against your lips. “You’ve been so good for me, but we have to be fair. And unlike Taehyung, I know how to share.”

“Am I or am I not sharing right now?” Tae griped, unamused by the dig. But you were no longer paying those two any attention, your focus now fully on Namjoon and the leisurely way he was now stripping out of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you hedged, knowing before you even said the words that they would do jack shit to appease him. “It just felt too good…”

Namjoon raised an unimpressed eyebrow, throwing his t-shirt on the floor as if it offended him. “All you keep saying is sorry,” he mused. Down went his pants and underwear, kicked out of his way. His knee hit the mattress, Taehyung shifting to the side so Namjoon could finally stalk over to where you lay, fucked open and wet. Cautiously, you met his stare, the breath halting in your lungs when you recognized the retribution that was undoubtedly about to come. 

“But sorry means nothing if you don’t modify your behavior,” he tsked, eyes darkening. “So. I don’t believe you.”

That was all the warning you got before he was crowding into your space, grabbing you by the ankles and hooking them over his shoulders. Caging you in with his body, pressing close enough that his cock easily slid over the mess of your cunt, making you mewl at the sensation.

And that involuntary reaction didn’t seem to help your case with Namjoon. “More?” he scoffed, seemingly displeased, though the way he rocked his length through the seam of you told a different story. “After all that, you still want more?”

You were exhausted, thighs still quivering from your last orgasm. But you couldn’t help the way the weight of his body and the slide of his cock were causing your pussy to pulse. “Yes, Daddy,” you breathed, angling your hips down so you could deliciously meet him on his upstroke.

“And it’s all about what you want, isn’t it?” he mocked, spearing you to the hilt in one go. You choked at the intrusion, not expecting him to enter you so suddenly. At this point, you were fully prepped enough to take him, but, like his brothers, Namjoon was still a lot to take all at once.

Particularly when he had already made up his mind that the best way to punish you was with his cock.

You quickly gathered his gameplay from the immediate way he started rutting into you, not giving you any time to adjust or catch your breath. Simply railing you into the mattress, your legs over his shoulders ensuring he hit deep enough for you to feel it in your throat.

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, fingers curling in the sheets, biting down on your lip enough to taste metal. “Fuck fuck—”

“What?” he taunted, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Making sure he scraped your g-spot on every thrust. “This is what you wanted, remember? And it’s all about what you want.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You could already feel yourself ready to clamp down again, your extremely sensitive pussy overreactive to any and all stimulation. “I want it, I want it, yesss—”

He pressed impossibly closer, bending you enough that you felt the burning strain in your legs, and that did the trick. Before you could nervously start to ponder whether you were flexible enough for what he wanted to do, you were cumming, hard, back attempting to bow with the force of it but only succeeding in making your whole body lock up and your vision blur.

Namjoon didn’t slow down during your climax, and he certainly didn’t slow down after. He fucked you like a machine, undeterred by how your pulsing walls tried to suck him in and keep him there. Undeterred by how you hopelessly whined and squirmed in overstimulation. And when you suddenly heard a familiar buzzing noise, there was nothing you could do but meet his intense gaze with wide, alarmed eyes.

“What?” he demanded, pressing your long-forgotten wand vibrator right on your clit and making you immediately jerk. The caramel of his skin was already glistening and beading with sweat, but he seemed long from tired. “You think you can cum on everbody’s dick but mine?”

It was too much, the near animalistic pace of his fucking paired with how high he had turned the vibrator making your hands shoot up, scrabbling along his biceps in a panicked response, your body now entirely on autopilot, desperately trying to save itself from its fate. 

“Please,” you heard yourself beg, choking at the intensity. Legs jerking uselessly on his shoulders, nails scratching marks down his skin.

But the word that would make him stop never passed your lips. And so he continued to ignore your unsuccessful struggling, fucking you right back to orgasm, this time somehow even stronger than the last and stealing all air from your lungs.

He felt it, of course. Felt exactly how hard you were squeezing him, the tight grip of your pussy evoking the grit of his teeth. 

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to milk me,” he growled, moving the vibrator away from you just enough for you to suck in a breath. “Come on, take this dick since you want it so bad. Take it!” 

And you had no choice but to take it, trying your best not to black out as he forced the coil within you to snap, again and again. You were shrieking, but you couldn’t even perceive your own actions anymore, swept completely by his unforgiving undertow of pain-lined pleasure. Namjoon was fucking you stupid, scrambling your brain as easily as if it were an egg, forcing you to your most primal of reactions, your most basest of self. Thrashing beneath him, desperate tears trickling down your cheeks, spit freely trickling from your wailing mouth.

It felt neverending, this exquisite torture, and just when you were starting to get distressed about how much longer you would be able to take it, Namjoon’s thrusts started to turn sloppy.

“This is all you wanted, right?” he panted, hips stuttering. A welcome warning for what was soon to come. His focus rapidly shifted from your orgasm to his own, and the way he tossed the still buzzing vibrator to the side was nothing short of impatient.

You blinked up blearily at him, the reduction in stimulation helping you slowly return to your body after being stuck the stratosphere. 

“Wanted my nut? Agreed to fuck all of us at once just so you could get more of it, isn’t that right, babygirl?”

His intense stare told you he expected an answer, but all you could do was whine in response, hesitant to admit it. Pussy pulsing at the very visual he had conjured up. Warily, you glanced at the other two brothers, nervous at what you might find there, but one look quickly evaporated all uncertainty.

Though they had moved out of the way for Namjoon, they hadn’t moved far—still close enough for you to reach out and touch, still close enough for them to hover over you and get a close view of the action. Still close enough for you to see understanding dawn across Seokjin’s face, to see pure astonishment take over Taehyung’s.

Namjoon spotted your division in attention and was having none of it, a hand guiding your jaw until you were focusing on him again. “You like being a dirty cumslut,” he prompted mildly, your heart racing in response. Slipping a thumb between your plush lips and humming approvingly when you sucked on it, tongue twirling. “Don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned hoarsely, the very admission making your whole body vibrate. The continued hammering of your sensitive core making you want to reflexively squirm away, though Namjoon’s heavy body ensured you had nowhere to go.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like being a dirty cumslut.”

Taehyung whimpered, and it was easy for you to deduce from the rapid movement you could see from the corner of your eye that he was jacking himself off while watching you. Well and truly done with delaying his own pleasure.

And from the rather manic way Namjoon was looking at you, he was obviously on the same wavelength. “And do you know how much cumsluts love it?” A quick swipe of his tongue over his panting lips. “They want it in them. On them.”

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, nearly sobbing at the strength your want. Your head whipping around, desperately pleading with all three of them. “Please let me have it! I’ve been so good, please—”

“Holy shit,” Tae groaned, eyes rolling back in his head. “Okay baby, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you it all. You want it all?”

“Yes. Yes, yes yes yes yesyesyes—”

Abruptly, Taehyung was pushing forward into your space, hovering more directly over you and treating you to the sight of how those long fingers were furiously pumping his cock. He was panting, a prominent vein in his neck visible because of his efforts, little whines escaping him as he viciously worked his slick length.

There was shifting on your other side, and your focus immediately turned to Seokjin. He looked back at you dazedly, lips parted, chest flushed at your attention.  

“Please?” you whimpered, fully aware how pathetic you must have looked but not giving a single shit. So long as you got what you wanted. You needed them to give you what you wanted.

The oldest immediately softened at your pleading, always so willing and eager to please you. “Of course,” he breathed, hand already moving over himself with long, tight strokes. He shivered, hips reflexively jumping forward at the stimulation. “W-Where?”

A shift, and Namjoon was pulling back from you, maneuvering your legs back to the bed and sitting back on his haunches. Despite this new position, he never let his cock leave the comfort of your walls, continuing to hammer into you, jaw locked in concentration, balls smacking into your ass with a lewd slapping sound. Focused only on racing to the finish line.

“Anywhere,” you shuddered. “Everywhere, just…” Your entire body was on fire and you could barely take it, the anticipation of what was about to happen making you writhe over the sheets, whimpering pathetically. Your tongue lolling out your gasping mouth, an eager target.

And then finally—finally—you were given what you asked for. Loud, uncontrolled moans spilled from Taehyung’s lips, swiftly becoming desperate before one last squeeze of his cock had him cumming, his release spraying hot all over your breasts and slowly trailing through your cleavage. 

You moaned with him, delight buzzing through your veins at being marked so intimately, and the sound seemed to trigger Namjoon, who immediately pulled out of you, expertly pumped himself a few times, and then ejaculated with a long, drawn-out grunt. After essentially edging himself for most of the night, the amount of cum he gifted you was more than generous, most of it painting your pussy in long ropes, but some of it inevitably ending up on your belly with how aggressively he was jerking himself off.      

The sight of it all, the feeling, was so unbearably hot that you almost came untouched, eyes rolling back, pussy pulsing with interest despite how exhausted you were. And your obvious pleasure was what finally set off Jin, teeth digging into his lower lip while his seed spurted white across the lower half of your face and slid down your jaw, some of it delightedly landing on your awaiting tongue. 

You hummed contentedly, immediately licking the thick, heady remnants from your lips so you wouldn’t waste a drop. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands slowly and sensually trailing over your own body. Basking in it all. Purposely smearing their mess over wider stretches of skin—pinching gently at your nipples, dragging your fingers between your tits, gliding over your hips, drawing light, sticky figure eights around your clit before dipping a bit lower and slipping two cum-coated digits inside your hot walls. Your hips twitched, lazily chasing the intrusion on reflex. Simply enjoying being so completely and utterly satisfied.   

You were so transfixed and in your own world that you completely forgot about the three other people still in the room, greedily feasting on the undeniably filthy way you savored what they gave you. You weren’t sure how long they let you be, but it was a voice finally breaking the silence that slowly lured back to reality.          

“_____?” 

The voice was gentle, yet deep, the spell cast over you immediately broken at the sound of it. It was Namjoon, hovering over you again, lips quirking into a small smile as he watched the fog disperse from your eyes. “How do you feel?”

You let out a satisfied sigh, pulling your fingers out of your pussy with hum. “Tired,” you admitted, voice raspy from the activities. “But amazing.”

His smile widened, cheeks dimpling. “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, Taehyung was laying on the bed with you, arms wrapped around your sticky form. Just like always, his sweaty body slotted easily against yours, happily nuzzling his face into your neck and apparently wholly unfazed about the fact that you were completely covered in spunk. “You’re amazing,” he chirped, pressing a flurry of kisses into your skin and making you giggle. “You know, when you told me you liked cum forever ago, I didn’t realize this was what you meant.” 

“You never asked,” you shrugged, somehow still timid despite everything that had just happened. “What did you want me to say, exactly? Hey Tae, do you mind doing me a solid and shooting the club up? Or maybe can you give me a nice, relaxing facial?”

The pure bafflement of his expression had you laughing again. “In what world would I ever say no to that?” he demanded incredulously. 

Amused by the turn in conversation, Seokjin bent down to press his lips against your forehead in gratitude before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

“Of course,” you replied, moving to direct him to your bathroom before Namjoon stopped you with a pat on the thigh.

“I’ll show him.”

You couldn’t help but watch their strong, naked forms leave the room, eyes drawn to the musculature of their backs and buttocks.

“Hey.” Tae poked you in the cheek, mirth dancing in his eyes from catching your ogling. “Focus. I’m talking to you.”

“What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view?” 

He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, though he was undeterred from getting the answers he sought.

“I told you what I wanted,” he reminded you gently, pressing another kiss against your jaw. “You know you could have done the same.”

You shifted in his hold, sheepish. “Tae, all of this isn’t really about me…”

“What, so just because we’re paying you, you’re not supposed to enjoy it too?” he scoffed. “Baby, as we’ve just proven tonight, it’s more fun when we all have fun.”

“I always have fun!” you protested, but you were prevented from elaborating by Namjoon returning with a washcloth. He climbed back on the bed, reaching for your ankles and guiding them apart.

“Open,” he directed, his tone containing none of the dominance it often had when he usually uttered the word. You obediently followed his instruction, a soft sigh escaping your lips when he pressed the warm cloth against your thoroughly battered netherparts and started cleaning you up. 

For a little bit, Taehyung watched your makeshift bath in silence, not even saying anything when Namjoon left to rinse off the towel and came back with a freshly damp one, gliding over the stained skin of your face and chest before they started to crust over. In fact, Tae didn’t speak again until your spot bath was finished and Namjoon was clambering back in the bed with the two of you, an arm slinging low over your waist as to not disturb where Tae’s rested. Pulling you against him until your chests were flush.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us on our trip?” You could feel Taehyung’s pout against your skin, displeased at the idea of being away from you for three weeks.

You huffed out a laugh, slinging a leg over Namjoon’s hip to settle more comfortably into your new position as the filling of a TaeJoon sandwich. “I’m positive. I have a lot studying to do and frankly, I’m not completely sure I can walk anymore.”

“Who said you need to walk?” Namjoon cut in sleepily. 

“We can pay someone to walk for you,” came Tae’s enthusiastic, yet ridiculous offer. “We’ll be going to meetings, but you can just roam the city if you want. Or relax at the hotel. You can lounge by the pool all day and put all your food and drinks on our tab.” 

Though it certainly sounded tempting, you were fully aware what the tradeoff of that makeshift vacation would be, and the absolute last thing you wanted to think about after the crazy intense session you just experienced was sex. So, despite Taehyung’s wheedling, you managed to stand firm in your decision, completely fine with waiting until they were back in the country to even consider spreading your legs for any of them again.

And you were justified when Seokjin finally reappeared, fully clothed, rubbing a towel through his hair, and informing you that his assistant Wendy would be in touch to schedule his next session for sometime after he returned.

chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist

[guillotinebypierre]

Y/n POV

*Knock Knock*

"Are you ready, jagi? I just finished preparing all the cameras and the lighting. We're good to go if you are."

I stood in front of the 'dressing room' of the star of the show. It was inside a small trailer set up at the cliff of a hill near Seoul, overlooking the city. It was pretty dark outside, naturally, as it was already night time. The city lights lit up the surrounding area, creating a breathtaking view, and the scenery for todays episode of my girlfriend's show, 'Chuu Can Do It'. Normally we'd have a whole crew with us, but due to this episode being a special (and kinda difficult one to film), they tasked me with doing the filming part alone.

What was once just a small project made to get people to become more environmentally conscious and start helping our planet eventually turned out to be a huge project that helped during very dark times and very annoying lawsuits. I met Jiwoo a little after graduation. My goal was to pursue a career in filmmaking, or really anything where I could use my photography and filmmaking skills.

Jiwoo was a year older than me and a walking ball of sunshine. When I met her, she was starting to become a trainee in order to pursue her dream of becoming a kpop idol. I didn't know much about the industry back then as I mostly listened to western music and didn't really care much about the often foreign concept of Korea's celebrities, but for her I learned about it. I also met the rest of her friends, all 11 of them, and things just kinda evolved from there.

Me and Jiwoo became close friends almost immediately, her happy and extroverted personality starkly contrasting my rather quiet one, yet somehow we completed each other. Opposites really do attract, or whatever that saying says.

I asked her out on a date after we'd been friends for almost a year. It was probably the scariest thing I'd done up to that point, and in retrospect it was really stupid because I didn't even ask about dating bans beforehand, but she was insanely ecstatic about me asking. She jumped on me and became all giddy talking about what she wanted to do for our date.

I've been with her through literally everything, from the highs of her career until the deepest and most depressing moments. She never told me anything about her contract because she thought I'd be worrying too much, but I wasn't blind. I could tell that she wasn't feeling well and the stress was getting to her. This is why I was the first one to encourage her with suing that disgusting company.

On a happier note though, Jiwoo was the one to recommend me to do the filming for all her content. I was the one doing her photos, her group's photoshoots, everywhere I could I helped.

Today I was tasked with helping Jiwoo do an episode on smog and air pollution for her channel. The episode required me to do some basic landscape and sky shots, comparing the air out in the city and in the 'wilderness'. The first portion of it was already finished, seeing as it was needed to be done in the morning. We also filmed an interview with a scientist and were now supposed to also do some shots of the sky during nighttime.

Jiwoo and I also decided to just stargaze after finishing the episode as a small celebration of her and her members winning their lawsuits.

"Yeah just come in for a second, I need your help", her muffled voice came from behind the door.

I walked in and saw her still in her bathrobe and doing her make up.

"What's up, Jiwoo?"

"Sit on the couch, Y/n.", she told me.

I walked over and plopped myself on the small couch in the middle of the trailer.

"*Sigh* I can't believe we actually did it.", she said while tearing up.

I immediately got up and hugged her, letting her cry herself out on my shoulder.

"What do you mean, jagi? Are you talking about winning-"

"Y-Yeah", she cut me off.

It killed me to see her like this. To see my own sun be riddled with sadness. Nobody deserved to go through all the shit she and her members had to go through, especially not her.

"I know, I'm so proud of you girls for doing it and winning that lawsuit. You can't imagine how many idols you're helping by showing that they shouldn't throw away their humanity for random company."

She cried even more, her tears soaking my grey pullover as I just held her and waited for her to calm down.

Jiwoo's cries soon faded and I really thought she had fallen asleep until I heard her voice from my shoulder.

"I- I wanted to thank you, Y/n", she said, her voice slightly cracking

"You've been such a big help throughout all this and with the show and filming, taking photos-"

"Jiwoo you don't have to thank me for anything-"

"But I want too."

Her voice shifted slightly, her teary, breaking voice being replaced by something more playful, something more daring and teasing. She looked up from my shoulder while smiling slightly.

Her smile had always been my weakness, it had always been. It made it easy to trust her, easy to melt into her, easy to feel safe, easy to feel comfortable around her.

Her robe fell to the floor, exposing her nude body, while her hands palmed the outside of my sweatpants, feeling my bulge as I slowly crept back towards the couch. My legs soon hit the welt of the couch as I fell back, Jiwoo falling on top of my lap. Her hands moved around and interlocked behind my neck before pulling my head forwards and smashing our hips together.

Her kiss was delicate, much like her personality. It was deeply soothing, relaxing, even a little nostalgic. It was something raw, something reminiscent of driving through the city of Seoul in the night, something we had done oh so often. The kiss was passionate all the same, it was as if she was finally letting go of all of her pent up emotions, all her pent up frustrations.

Our bodies moved in one fluid motion, complementing each other, completing each other. My hands danced around her naked skin, touching and taking in everything.

We soon separated, both panting for air as a string of saliva connected our lips. I looked at Jiwoo, once again seeing that beautiful smile that made my heart do backflips every time, making me fall harder and harder for her.

Her hands moved and started pulling at my shirt, trying to take it off at an awkward angle. I moved to make it easier for her before she squatted slightly in order for me to slip off my pants and underwear. My erection stood tall and proud, hitting against her bellybutton as I now felt her wet juices coating my thighs. Jiwoo once again pulled my face down and started attacking me again.

Her hips moved in a circular motion, rubbing against me, the friction causing tingles down my spine before she finally stood up slightly and aligned myself with her wet pussy and squatted down.

A familiar sensation spread around my body as all my senses were overwhelmed and shut down. Her body clamped down on my as her upper body held us close, each body part rubbing against each other. Her legs wrapped around my torso as her vagina moulded itself around my dick. My hands moved onto her ass before grabbing it and raising and slamming herself onto my member.

Her legs soon started to spread as her brain couldn't focus on keeping them around me, her mouth opening as lewd noises filled the room we were in. Her head was thrown back as I continued attacking her body with kisses and hickeys. Our skin slapped against each other with each thrust, each time melting us into each other even more.

My body was on fire, my chest rising and falling in rapid succession as if fuelled by a motor as it tried to breathe in all the oxygen I was exerting. My head was also leaning on the backrest of the sofa, groans and moans coming out of me like a symphony of crude noises. My hips pumped myself into my girlfriend, letting go of all the frustration and stress I had as a familiar comfortable burning sensation started boiling inside my stomach.

My thighs were soaked, the wetness creating squelching noises every time Jiwoo landed on me, due to her arousal. My girlfriend's screams grew louder to the point where other campers in the nearby area could probably hear her before she finally hit her high, a high pitched scream coming out of her throat as she hugged me so tight I might have been crushed.

Her pussy tightened around my, creaming on me as it leaked onto my lap, the insides of her milking me as if I were a cow. My stomach felt warner and warner as my own climax neared. I continued fucking her through her high before finally unleashing myself inside her, filling Jiwoo up to the brim while falling over on her.

We both breathed in heavily, desperately trying to catch our breaths. We stayed in that position for a while, just enjoying each other's company before finally getting up and getting dressed.

---

3rd Person POV

The two got out and onto the designated filming area. Y/n quickly took out the necessary equipment, which he had put away before knocking on Jiwoo's door, and started going over the whole filming session with his girlfriend again. He walked over to the lawn chair and started filming.

The sky was beautiful on this side of town, the stars were visible, tempting him to start counting each of them as he started doing the cinematography for the episode.

Time passed and Y/n was about to finish filming before he suddenly felt someone playing around with his pants. His vision shifted quickly, looking down at himself as he was met with the familiar smile of his girlfriend. She simply nodded up, indicating for him to focus on the footage before sliding off his underwear, being hit by his semi hard member.

Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking him a bit until he reached her desired hardness. Jiwoo then continued by sucking on the tip, mixing her saliva with the leaking pre cum as Y/n gathered every ounce of self control he had to keep a steady hand on the camera.

Jiwoo's head bopped up and down as she moved her tongue all around Y/n's dick, trying to suppress any noise that could be heard on the footage. Her cheeks formed an vacuum around her boyfriends cock as she licked from the shaft up to the tip, throating as much as she could before tightening around him.

Y/n tightened his grip on the camera, using whatever little self control he had to not throw it away and give all his attention to the woman on her knees in front of him.

Jiwoo, determined to make him mess up, decided to spice things up and started using both of her hands to jack him off in a twisting motion while also sucking and slurping him off, creating a kind of cycle of pleasure.

This combination almost led to Y/n coming undone right then and there but he still had one trick up his sleeve. He grabbed Jiwoo's head with one arm and pushed her down, making her take every single inch of his length while also silencing her. Her throat tightened around him and gripped every part of his member, subsequently making him climax in a geyser of hot, sticky, liquid that coated her entire oesophagus.

With a shaky hand, Y/n pressed the button on the camera to finish the recording, before putting the camera to the side and exhaling.

Jiwoo stood up, her cheeks puffed, filled with Y/n's cum, before she stood up and gulped, showing her tongue afterwards.

"You're going to get one of us fired one day, you know?"

"As if. Relax, jagi. I don't even have a boss anymore~"

"I just hope nothing was captured by the camera-"

"Relax, Y/n. You can just watch it back later and cut it out or we'll just film again later. Now how about you go put that expensive equipment away and join me back inside? I think our celebration isn't finished yet."

Y/n sighed before standing up and cleaning up while Jiwoo walked back inside their rented trailer.

"It's going to be a long night.", he said before opening the door and locking it.

[nonclassyparty]

tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face. 

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

-

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!" 

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it. 

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else! 

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

-

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!" 

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

-

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose. 

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

 Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek. 

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl. 

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

-

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking. 

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too. 

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder. 

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included)  but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

-

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder. 

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

-

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo. 

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either. 

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence. 

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace. 

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw. 

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something. 

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

-

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand. 

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-" 

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand. 

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk. 

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

-

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!" 

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression). 

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team. 

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just  ready to fight.

 You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall. 

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red. 

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years. 

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"