#what im getting at is if i show up early enough and say hi to jun he'll look for me later and i can become his lesbian best friend 📝📝

[munamania]

it’s just i spend so much time sharing little things about myself in the hopes that it sparks a connection with people and also i guess that maybe sometimes people will think of me yk. to feel like i exist outside of my own head. i dont think this is a bad thing it’s just where im at it’s a natural want for connection and it like. works for me. and i also dont think it’s bad to have the friends i do that are like ‘surface level’ yk. i still appreciate them and love them. it’s just, this is where im at, desperately clawing in different spaces in my life to be known even tho it’s embarrassing lol. and it just sucks that i never had to try to with her. not only did we have this extremely insane chemistry right off the bat, she’s someone that in like every way has made it seem like she actively wants to know me. beyond just the polite and whatever kind of level. and it’s like, of course that feels absolutely amazing given ive been pining since day 1 but also i just like her a lot as a person. you know. and it all sucks and makes me wanna combust sometimes that things aren’t the way i’d like them to be between us of course lmfao but i also think she’s an incredible person and she’s managed to make me feel so safe and calm and simultaneously obviously fucking crazy and energized and whatever. u know. whatever my point is here im gonna be done now <3

[gyuswhore]

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

word count: 21k

contains: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [minors DNI], angst, statistics, ur honour they're stupid for one another, descriptions of stress exhaustion and burnout, academic burden, disagreements, mingyu is smart as hell, shitting on bad professors, smut but its a surprise [gyu gets his soul sucked while he's reciting statistical models I mean what]

words of conviction from @highvern: Kim Mingyu, total asshole , 1-800-HOT N DUMB , THEYRE IN LOVE MINGYU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOSER , sick fucking freak , i know when you wrote this you put your head in your hands , OHHHM YW GOD

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

[a/n]: this fic is set in the same universe as @highvern's wonu fic endpoint [to be released], some insight for wonu's pov is included here as is some of Mingyu's pov in cam's fic if you'd like to see more about what happens in the gaps!!

I want to start by thanking everyone who chose to be part of this collab fic and for being the reason cam and I were able to open up @camandemstudios in the first place. everyone's been so kind and cooperative and I still cant believe we managed to convince such amazing writers to join us on this collab journey 🥹 I love u guys

Thanking my wife camothy @highvern for brainstorming with me since day one and for betaing for me. @seokgyuu and @miabebe for also looking over the doc and reassuring me. I'm for sure forgetting someone and I'm really sorry about that, know that I appreciate you just as much 🤍

on that note, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, im HELLA nervous for some reason so plsplspls remember to reblog and send me feedback on how you liked it, I will love you forever <333

masterlist

Monday

A normal person would’ve cried. Perhaps even sued the entire institution for all it was worth. Burn down the world, if it came to it. 

But as you stare at the tiny 37/100 on your screen, you feel…nothing. 

You could’ve said you saw it coming, which you did, but something about blaming someone else for an exam you took was beginning to feel a little manipulative. 

Clicking off the student portal, you huff loudly, five in the morning too early for you to begin breaking down over a grade that was completely unreflective of what you were taught. 

Or maybe it was, because as you count one, two, three hours till your dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, you can only hope you’ll hold back from spitting in your professor’s coffee. But alas, you can only shut your laptop harder than necessary for what it costs and push the grade out of your mind.

You were tired enough to sleep for a couple more hours, and you take it as an opportunity to spite the entire course by giving just as many fucks as your professor did.  

Which was little to none. 

That was a lie—on your part anyway. Because you continue to show up, and probably will until you can put this course and all of its trauma behind you. Even now as you feel the inclining beat of your pulse sitting in the white lecture hall, you know this is all but you versus the universe. 

Dr. Cho might as well have wheeled himself into the room on a skateboard with the way he struts into the room. 

He’s wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and jeans of a matching finish that do not fit him properly. There’s pins in every last colour on this earth, littering the front of his jacket with sayings that toe the silver controversial lining. There was one that said Vote for John F. Kennedy, another plain black one with I Eat Kids, and of course, the blaring Cunt written in cursive, pink sparkly letters. 

This man that’s pushing into his 60s stands before his slightly wilted class in his crocs, hands on his hips as he heaves a long breath. 

“I have to say, not the turn out I was expecting on that last report.”

He’s talking about the report you coincidentally failed, the same one you were pushed into with little to no direction and a deadline tighter than any you’ve had to bully yourself through. 

“All I can say is to read through the feedback I’ve given and try a little harder next time.” His voice is somewhere bordering comical exasperation. Feedback that consisted of sparing ‘?’’s and ‘no’’s with zero further explanation. He could say more, but you’ve learned that he simply chooses to not. 

Besides the man that drones in the front of the room, there’s another person in the other corner of the lecture hall. He’s hunched over a giant pile of papers, sifting through each and every one with a pen in his other hand. 

The TA doing a mundane task is somehow more interesting than whatever seminars of disappointment your professor was giving. He’s crossing something out on every single leaf of paper that he flicks through, and you vaguely wonder if those were today’s worksheets. 

“...and post hoc tests last week, we can start on Bayesian today. Mingyu will be handing out the tutorial papers.”

The poor TA looks like he thought he’d have more time, snapping his head up to look at the professor with an expression of pure incredulousness. He staggers for a moment before he’s flicking past the pages even faster somehow, striking out what seems like the same instruction in the giant pile of papers meant for an entire lecture hall. There’s a rustle as about a hundred laptops are being pulled out and booted up, waiting for the worksheets to land on the desks. 

You hear the familiar warble of papers being passed out and you watch as the TA pulls chunks of sheets out of the giant stack in his arms to slam down onto the front tables. 

“Pass it down, please… pass it down, please…”

There’s a voice that calls from one of the front seats, “What formula is the sheet talking about?”

Mingyu looks startled as he snaps back to look at the blaring empty whiteboard. In the midst of passing papers, you watch him sprint to the rolling whiteboards, pulling one of the giant flats of white over to the other side, the mechanism slamming into place with a louder than comfortable slam. It reveals another whiteboard underneath with the detestably long formula already written (and the one you’d have to figure out yourself).

 The professor remains with his chin in his hands behind his laptop, unphased. 

By the time you’ve registered the foreign symbols on the board, one of the tutorial papers has made it into your hands.

Sure enough, there’s a quick line across one of the steps with a thick black marker. 

Blinking hard, you attempt to pull yourself into the zone, staring at the white sheet with words that are barely stringing themselves together. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially as you lift your head to find hunched shoulders and furrowed brows all around. 

There’s one person that’s zipping back and forth, just like there always is. 

You watch as Mingyu hunches over certain laptops and whispers in rapid explanation before moving on to the next, a looming sense of dizziness that trails behind him as he shoots up the stairs to the back rows to help someone else. 

There’s a brief consideration to raise your own hand to ask for help, but one look at his disoriented gaze and the amount of hands that shoot up by the second, you guess it wasn’t going to help.

Back you go, hunched over the same wretched paper as everyone else, and praying for some divine revelation. 

Tuesday

Divine revelation did not come to you, but the good sense to make use of office hours did. 

So here you are, a printed copy of your supposedly horrid assignment and a pack of multicolour pens in your tote, and determination in your stride, you make your way to the department building. 

You’ve double, triple, quadruple checked the times to ensure you don’t dip in at the wrong moment, swiping open your phone to re-check the room number yet again. 

Standing outside the door, you knock with mustered confidence, waiting for something akin to an affirmative from the other side of the door. 

Nothing. 

You knock again.

Silence. 

You glance around the empty hall before grasping onto the cool brass handle of the door, wrenching it open just a peep. Poking your head in, you find the room…empty.

The chairs and tables that usually buzz with discussing students lay barren as you step into the room. Moving to look at the front of the room, you inhale sharply as you realise the professor’s desk has been occupied this entire time. 

Except he’s asleep.

No, that’s not the professor. 

Moving closer, you watch the way his back rises and falls ever so slowly, head resting on his arm as his hand hangs limp off the table. Whipping your head around with more attention this time, you attempt to find an explanation written on the walls. But there’s none, even in the papers that litter the table he rests his head on.

You don’t need to see his face to know it’s the TA. But as you stand in the empty room, clutching the straps of your tote, you aren’t quite sure what to do. 

Another glance around the table and you realise his laptop remains on, the screen yet to sleep. Before the obvious issue of a blatant invasion of privacy can befall you, you take a step forward to take a peek. 

It’s his schedule, a million colours blaring on the screen in a colour coded regard with barely any white spaces. It doesn’t take long to find his time slot for right now, red with importance. 

Glancing down, the man remains fast asleep, pen still in hand as it inks a faint line on the page. You look around the room for the nth time, taking constant glances back at his laptop that tells you he’s actively missing something right now. Clearing your throat, you hunch over a tad bit. 

“Um, excuse me.” He hardly moves. So you try a little louder, hunching over his sleeping form even further. “Excuse me.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a snore. 

Out of instinct, you bring a hand forward to his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly as you call for him again. “Excuse me!”

There’s a sharp inhale and he shoots up quicker than you can back away, ensuring you get an entire back’s worth of force as he bumps into you, hard.

“Wh–ow!” The noise is collective, yelps and thuds as you both back away from each other. 

“W–what’re you doing here?” he asks, hair still ruffled and eyes barely open as he stands at the table. There’s a bright yellow sticky note on his right cheek, ink scribbled on in something you can’t decipher.

“Um, it’s office—”

His eyes land on the same screen you were peering into just before and it looks like his life flashes before his eyes, widening at the sight as he slams around the table looking for something. 

“I have to go,” he announces, gripping onto an unstrapped watch as he registers the time, his other hand shoving his laptop and a few papers into a dark messenger bag. 

“Wait, isn’t it still office hours?” you call out as he whizzes past you. 

He’s swinging his bag over his shoulder and half tripping to the door as he calls out, “Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“But—”

“It’s on the portal.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it—” he pauses as he exhales loudly, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to rub across his tired face. “I’ll double check. But it’s Wednesdays and Thursdays from now on. You can wait till I get back if you really want help.”

“How—”

A loud slam! of the door. 

“—long…” 

You’re left draped in silence yet again, the echoes of the slammed door ringing in your startled ears. It all happened too fast for you to process, blinking rapidly as you registered that you were now alone in the room. 

He said he’d be back, but left you with no indication as to when. By the looks of his god awful schedule, it looked like he had something else to attend to right after whatever it was he buggered off to right now. 

Fingers clenched into a fist, you consider your options. You could wait, sit on one of the desks and try to get some work done until he gets back. 

The universe gives you your answer as the door opens with a loud creak in the empty lecture hall. It’s another professor who looks quite startled to find an overenthusiastic student already present for class. 

She stares before craning to look at the room number outside the door, “Am I in the right room?”

“Uh, yes! I was just leaving,” you buffer out, moving to shuffle out immediately. 

You’re halfway out the door when you hear another call of an “Excuse me!”

“Are these your papers?” The professor’s full arms are up as she gestures to the still littered table. 

The No is ready on your lips. Until it isn’t. 

Later on, you’d consider how you left that room with an armful of papers that did not belong to you. How you’d ducked under the table to ensure you’d gotten everything, down to the leather strap watch with the cracked clock face. 

But as you stare at the stack of files and sheets that lay on your desk at home, you only know of the decent act that you’d committed.

And nothing of the hourglass you’d just turned over. 

Wednesday

In your Sent box are three emails sent on three separate days, all asking the same recurring question, all responding with the same recurring reply.

I wanted to confirm the days and times for office hours. I’m aware it’s on the portal but I’d like to reconfirm. 

Regards, YN

Dear YN,

Wednesdays and Thursdays. 4 to 6 PM.

Kim Mingyu, T.A. 

So there you were on a Wednesday afternoon, 3:59 PM sharp, outside the lecture hall where office hours have always been. With the same tote hung on your shoulders, with the same printed assignment and pack of multicolour pens, and a separated stack of files and folders, you wrench the door open with bated breath. 

The blended murmur of the usual hustle and bustle of the appointment reassures you first, the sight of scattered students of familiar faces reassures you second. And most of all, a conscious TA that sits at the professor’s desk, speaking to another student over a laptop screen. 

The man does nothing to acknowledge your arrival, continuing above the babble of students that occupy the chairs and the discussion. It isn’t too full, but considerably busy nonetheless despite how early you’ve swooped in. 

There’s a brief consideration whether this was in the TA’s job description at all, craning your neck to take a full sweep of the room to find a sparing glimpse of the man who should be here. The professor and his loud fashion choices are nowhere to be found. 

The sigh you let out is heavy and full of an emotion you cannot possibly begin to unpack, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs to slump against. Shoulders sagging, you feel every fibre of your being screaming against your better judgement to pull out some work and to be productive while you wait. Reading over your failed assignment for the nth time, the same one that seemed to be some sick form of rage bait. 

You pull a couple things out so as to not look awkward sitting and staring into nothing on an empty desk, uncapping your pen and pulling up your sleeves like there was business to be done. Which there was, but none of which you wished to entertain. 

People watching, you realise, is a lot easier when most of the room is preoccupied with whatever it is they’re doing, too busy to notice your blank stares. 

The faces are familiar, none of which are people you’ve interacted with before but classmates nonetheless. The room is full of shaking legs, spinning pens and hunched backs, not an un-scrunched brow in sight. There’s a particular gaggle of girls somewhere around the front, their tables suggesting a work environment but between the whispers, giggles and glances to the front of the room, you assume there’s one thing in common the both of you weren’t doing. 

Speaking of the front of the room, your matched glance finds you face to face with the student at the main table in the middle of pushing himself off his seat. Your reaction is immediate, hand coming over to slam against the flat of your bag to find the lost straps, moving out of your seat as you keep your eyes on the front of the room. 

Bad luck must be a lover, because you realise quickly that somebody’s already beat you to it. Before you even noticed the first’s intentions to. The student stands beside the chair ready to keep it warm as the previous occupant leaves. 

Slamming back down on your own seat, you realise very quickly that trying to get an audience with this TA was going to be harder than you anticipated. There’s multiple other sounds of frustration around the room, and you doubt the slowly increasing pool of students was going to help anyone’s time management. 

Realising you needed to be a little more tactical if you didn’t want to sit here for the next month and half, you find an empty spot near the gaggle of girls you’d noticed before. It was right up front, just enough for you to hear when the conversation would begin to conclude at the main table. 

Once again, the TA doesn’t seem to notice any of the hustle and bustle of the room as his mouth continues to move rapidly, eyes on the question as he invests himself in his explanation. 

It was unfortunate that the only remaining seat was right next to the louder than necessary group, but you take it as a blessing anyway. It’s then that the one right next to you turns to stage-whisper to you. 

“Are you here to see him?”

You don’t expect a conversation, ears straining to eavesdrop on the other conversation in front of you to find your cue. You snap to look at her in surprise. “Pardon?” 

“Are you here to see him? Mingyu?”

“Uh—” Wasn’t everybody? “Yeah, I had a couple things I wanted to clear out.”

The revelation makes her shoulders drop as she lets out a loud sigh, “God, I can never get anything this professor says. I've been here nearly every week trying to figure it all out.”

“Yeah he’s a bit…unorthodox.”

“He’s unorthodox too.” She looks over to the main table towards the TA, chin in her hands as she gazes. “A face like that is rare.”

It wasn’t that she was wrong, it didn’t take more than a glance to convince yourself that Mingyu was possibly one of the more attractive people you’d meet in your lifetime. But the appeal lasted for all of five minutes for you, flitting away when you noticed that he dragged along a very…overwrought… suggestion wherever he went. 

It was clear he was stressed seemingly all year round, nearly just as relaxed as your professor seemed to be. 

But Mingyu was attractive. And you realise how much of a fool you’d sound if you admitted to anything other than such. 

“It is. His willpower’s somehow even rarer,” you add. “Don’t know how he does it.”

“God, tell me about it. Forget getting his number, trying to have more than a three sentence exchange with him without some statistical nonsense involved is near impossible.” Her face has fallen, a tight little frown on her face as she irritates herself with some other memory. 

Taking a glance down at her notes, you find the printed sheet littered with glitter gel pen ink lining the edges, doodles of stars and hearts and small anime characters next to p values and z scores. 

There’s a distinct sound of a chair screeching, and it’s like a large GAME OVER sign is hanging above your head. 

You jerk in your seat, like you could jump over the table and land in the emptying seat with some god-given stroke of luck, like the person already standing next to the chair wouldn’t hold a lifelong grudge against the insane girl with an unnatural acclimation to statistics. 

Although, nothing was more unnatural than the way this TA seemed to know more than the professor. Or you were just really behind. 

Alas, you don’t tumble over the table or kick back your chair, merely making a forceful motion in your seat, palms itching terribly as you watch the girl with her open laptop balanced in her arms move to take a seat. 

You were preoccupied, hence you do not notice that the TA has also noticed you. 

Suddenly, the girl looks startled as she’s told to wait. 

“She’s been waiting nearly a week, I really hope you don’t mind,” you hear him say, voice strained as you turn to look at him. His hands are outstretched to motion towards you a few feet across from him. 

For whatever reason, you had no thought that he might’ve remembered you. Something about his half asleep state when he’d spoken to you, perhaps he might’ve thought he dreamt it. Or he’d just forgotten it altogether. 

The girl glances at you, and her shoulders sag a little as she nods in formality. 

“Thank you.”

It comes out of both of you, snapping to look at each other hardly a moment as you go back to smiling at the retreating student. 

“You can come right after her,” he reassures, his own upturned mouth tired and fading. 

Never have you felt more awkward trying to come around the elongated student tables. 

You pause at first, staring at the table in front of you like it was worth trying to climb over or even crawl under it to get to the desk. Another moment of eye contact as he stares at your unmoving form with a blank look, and the heat pools your skin. 

Staggering for a moment, you end up moving past your chair and walking the way round anyway, the screeching of the chairs only nurturing the existing budding humiliation for no apparent reason. 

It only gets worse when you sit across from him finally, backside barely touching the plastic before realising you’d forgotten your bag in your seat. 

Mid smile in a timid greeting when you make a sound resembling something of an “Oh!” as you spring back up immediately. It’s easier to reach for your bag over the table you were sitting on, reaching across to grab it off your vacated seat. 

The girl you were sitting next to just before makes a motion like she’s trying to help and you have to remind yourself to smile at her as you retreat. 

Mingyu has the very beginnings of an amused expression on his face once you’ve finally made yourself comfortable across from him, clearing your throat just for something to do. 

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring out the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, he blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he actually wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and presentation was off.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. You don’t have an explanation, but it’s somehow easier to feel helpless in front of the man that’s meant to help you. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he has to say it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered in a rainbow of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

You only remember when you spot the segregated file of papers in your bag.

“I almost forgot,” you say, slipping the files and tidbits out and in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply, eyes widening as sees the familiar blue. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

Pausing, you wonder if you should make the next comment, the words tumbling out before you can make a decision. “Maybe don’t run out of rooms still half asleep.”

By the grace of God, he laughs, “No, you’re right. I should be careful.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he continues. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

Thursday

True to your punctual nature, you make yourself known at exactly 3:29 PM.

Mingyu is at the desk, conscious and on the phone, eyes closed as he rests his face on his fist.

“I don’t know if I can make time for that—no, I understand, sir,”

Another pause as the noise from his speakers fill his ears, his rubbing over his face a little harsher than you doubt he’s entirely comfortable with. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

His phone hits the table with a heartbreaking thud, both hands covering his face as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. 

“Light on your feet or something? I can never tell when you come in,” he startles when he notices you. 

Sheepish smile on your face, you move to sit down. “Sorry.”

You know it’s invasive, and you also know you might be asking him to break some unknown university code of conduct, but curiosity takes charge as you ask a casual question. “Important call?”

“Uh, yeah, um, just work stuff,” he states, shaking his head swiftly like he’s trying to shake the thought out of his mind. 

There’s a pause while you're slipping your papers and laptop out of your bag, during which he seems to have decided to divulge a little more. 

“It was Dr. Cho. More stuff for me to do,” he says. “As always.” 

“Does he do anything other than show up to class?” you ask through a snort. 

“Of course he does. He cusses out every article he doesn’t agree with, is anything but objective and…the occasional relay of blatant misinformation.” 

For the record, you’d never really heard Mingyu speak at all for the months he’d been TA-ing for the semester. It was small whispers of choice words in a vague voice, the distant murmur as he exchanged with the professor too far for you to hear. 

The voice of the seemingly quiet and diligent TA was never known to you, not until yesterday as he explained statistical models and the flaws of your data presentation. 

Passionately too. Incredulous for a discipline so dry and unapproachable. 

That being said, something about the grit in his voice as he positively sneered through his teeth, badmouthing his professor—it was something you couldn’t quite believe he was capable of. 

“I’m sorry you have to put up with him.”

Once again, by whatever stone of tolerance the universe bestowed in his heart, you watch him sigh and smile, “Anything for that recommendation. And the pay too, I suppose. Besides, he’s done a lot for the area, can’t discredit him entirely.”

With your eyebrows raised, he seems to catch your expression. He pants out a laugh, and your stomach lurches as you watch it reach his eyes, teeth on display, a lurch in his chest; a true laugh. 

Raising his hands in surrender, he responds, “I’m stuck.”

There’s nothing you can do to stop the smile that reaches your own face, turning your laptop screen towards him with the JASP software display. “I am too. Help.”

Help, he does.

Monday

Mingyu ended up giving you an entire hour on that Thursday. 

The thirty minutes before office hours began soared by like they were nothing, and you were ready to take your leave the minute students began to scatter in as the clock hit a swift four. Except he kept going, another 30 minutes in deep concentration as he retaught you nearly everything from scratch. 

Perhaps his proven determination to ensure you don’t tragically fail is what prompted you to do this, standing at the till of your regular coffee shop as you ask, “Make that two, please.”

It might also be important to mention the 7:30 AM on the dial on a bright Monday morning as you walked into your slightly less dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, knowing there would only be one other person insane enough to get to the lecture hall this early. 

Something isn’t right. 

Mingyu is in a position all too familiar to you and everyone else who shares this class, hunched over something or the other in deep focus. The sun pours in through the lifted blinds, the lights of the class turned off as natural light does more than enough of the job. 

It also shows you a blaring hot pink post-it note on his face, all too familiar to a previous interaction you’ve had with him. 

He notices you before you need to announce yourself, brows separating as he recognises you in the doorway. “‘Morning!” 

“...Morning.”

“You’re early,” he comments, straightening his back with a hand behind him for support as you approach. 

“Figured we both needed this,” you hand him a tray with his cup of coffee, eyes still trained on his lower cheek with the paper stuck to it. “It’s a latte with no sugar, but I added a couple packets on the side anyway. Just in case.”

“O–oh, thank you. And you’re right I did need this.”

Now that you’re closer, the scrawled writing on the post-it note is clearer. 

To Do:

Call mom

Shoot myself

“You, um—” It’s alarmingly difficult for you to say it, despite the words being so simple. Hey! You got a lil’ something on your face.

But all you do is dumbly point to your own cheek, eyes trained on the loud piece of paper that tells more than he might like the world to know. 

There’s a loud slap of his hand on his own cheek as he crumples the paper in his hands, bringing it forward to see. “For fuck’s sake.”

“It’s okay! I wanna…shoot myself too sometimes.” 

What the fuck?

“I mean!” you correct louder than you anticipated, before covering with a laugh. “It’s okay, it happens. Good thing I caught it before someone else did.”

It’s all the more petrifying when your voice echoes across the blatantly empty lecture hall, reverberating like it was a punishment for you and your horrid lack of volume control. Meeting his eyes feels like a sin right now, so you keep them downcast and pray he doesn’t try to sabotage your education. 

“Good thing it was just you. Yeah.”

Just you.

“Anyways, I think I’m done with prepping for class. Do you wanna squeeze in twenty minutes of ANOVA?” 

“Have you seen the time?” 

“Not a morning person?”

“Nope!”

“And yet it’s 7:40 on a Monday morning and you’re absurdly early.” His brows are raised as he pulls around the professor's chair to bring it to you. 

“Do you want the coffee or not?” you ask, watching as he drags another chair for himself. 

The both of you sit away from the professors table, coffees in hand as you watch Mingyu run a hand through his hair. 

He gives you a crooked grin,“I apologise.”

“To be fair,” he continues. “I’m not much of a morning person either.”

You narrow your eyes the slightest bit as Mingyu takes a sip of his unsweetened coffee, “I’m starting to think no money’s worth this job.”

Mingyu snorts, coffee suspended in his full cheeks. He swallows with much difficulty before answering, “You’re right. Not sure why I’m still here either. I could get an offer from another professor.”

“And that isn’t happening because…?”

Elbows on his knees, Mingyu swirls his capless coffee cup, the beige liquid moving in a growing tornado. “I like Dr. Cho.”

“You—”

“I know,” he laughs loud, a deep, echoing sound that shakes in your ears. “I know. I sound like a lunatic.”

“I don’t know about lunacy, but insanity can have its reasons.”

“Another would argue that insanity was the very absence of reason.” 

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Excuse me for doing my job.”

He takes another sip of his coffee, and you ask again, “No, but really. I can’t imagine this man having too many redeeming qualities as an educator.”

Mingyu lifts his chin as he presses his lips together. “When I was in my first year, there was this other class I had where we had to write a lab report for the first time.”

“PSYCH101?”

“That’s the one. I’d never written one before, but I liked statistics enough to do a little more digging than what the assignment called for. I ended up finding one of Dr. Cho’s studies, read the entire thing, word for word. I was up all night reading nearly everything he’d published, some of ‘em before any of us were even born.” 

“Oh. So you’re a fan.”

“Everyone tells you to never meet your idols,” he snickers. “He’s done amazing things, but I guess he pays for it with his flawed personality.”

“I’m sorry it had to be you,” you half joke. 

Mingyu looks at you sheepishly, “That might also be my own fault.” 

“Don’t tell me you offered.”

“I might as well have. All my assignments referenced his work the most. I was always talking to him about upcoming research after class, and it was like he was a different person. Forget differing opinions, some of what he was saying was just…plain incorrect. He welcomed the argument though, and I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true. He was always emailing me extra resources which…I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to do. Only reason I did so well in his class was because I taught myself.” 

He sighs a loud sigh, straightening his back, “I guess he liked me more than I thought, because next thing I know I’m getting a call over the summer telling me I have a job.”

“Did he…have a TA when you were in his class?” 

“Four.”

“Four?!”

“Two at a time. All of ‘em quit at some point. Said they didn’t want the recommendation or the pay.”

“Would he…not give you a recommendation anyway? You said he liked you.”

Mingyu shakes his head solemnly, “He’s a tough cookie, everyone in the field knows that. If you’ve impressed him, you’ve impressed everyone.”

You take a moment to really absorb everything you’ve just learned. “That’s a sucky position you’re in.”

“Tell me about it. But it’s okay. Three—three and a half more months to go? This isn’t even the worst of it, I’m just dreading study week when I’m gonna have to handle all the crying.”

You wince as he mentions something even remotely close to exam season, still barely at a stage where you can accept you’d be alright with this class. 

“I know you’re not nearly as qualified or experienced as him, but I think you could take over his class.”

“Ever heard of barriers to entry? I’d be ruined if I wanted a career in this.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “All I’m saying is I’ve learned more from you in barely a couple hours combined than the last two months I’ve spent cursing this very lecture hall.”

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw a blush creep up his face, and paired with his shy laugh and hand at the back of his neck, you can’t help but bite back your own smile. 

“If I can help you then it’s worth losing myself.”

Your heart is in your fucking throat.

“I’m glad when students tell me that,” he continues, utterly oblivious to the landslide happening in your digestive tract. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re—” you swallow thickly because you sound like a toad. “You’re doing more than just something right. You’re saving us therapy and an extra semester.”

He laughs at that, and you wish he’d let you breathe. 

“Feels like I’m doing something wrong sometimes,” he huffs. “My friend’s a TA too and he’s got himself a girlfriend on top of everything else he’s got going on.” 

He goes on, “Do you know how many times I need to ask people to quit twirling their hair? To look at the page and not my face? Asking for my number, I have an email for a reason, for fuck’s sake—”

Mingyu is cut off because you’re laughing, hand to mouth as your shoulders shake through your sniggering. “W–what?”

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “It’s just…It sounds like you don’t know what you look like.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” he frowns.

“Nothing!” you exclaim. “But that’s the problem isn’t it.”

Mingyu doesn’t seem to buy it, even through your coaxing as you attempt to explain to him that he is, in fact, desirable.

“Can’t possibly be enough to distract people,” he huffs in earnest, still hung up on the students he can’t get through to. 

“Majority of the class would beg to differ.”

There’s a pause as he registers what you imply. 

After a few moments, he drops his head, opening his mouth, “Would… you also—”

There’s a loud creak of the door as you hear the immediate noises of shuffling feet and chattering mouths, as low and tired as they sounded. Turning back to look at Mingyu, he’s already jumped out of his seat, wrist to face as he checks the time on the same leather strap watch you returned. 

“That’s our cue,” you breathe, pushing your chair back behind the professor’s desk as you manoeuvre around Mingyu who’s suddenly frantic. 

Of course you realise there’s people other than just the two of you in the room, heightened in seats that are designed to ensure they can absorb every detail that goes on right where you stand in the front of the room.

But you feel the soft of Mingyu’s shirt over his wrist as you give him a gentle squeeze despite it all, barely enough pressure. Half your index finger brushes the skin of his hand, just enough to register how cold your fingertips are and how warm his body is. 

“Relax,” you whisper. “You’ll be better off without all the panic.”

You don’t see his face as you brush past him and up to your seat, looking up to see him disappear somewhere in the corner hunched over another stack of papers. The next time you see Mingyu’s face is when the professor arrives and has begun his regularly scheduled tomfoolery, and realise all the age that can accumulate in the span of five minutes. 

Thursday

Midterm season is nothing you’ve ever really had to worry about. 

Something about the halfway point did make it obvious that the clock was ticking, but danger was far enough away to prevent the ultimate breakdowns reserved for the peak seasons. 

Except this class isn’t ordinary, and it’s all you’re able to worry about all semester. And as Dr. Cho in his Thrasher vest announces the date for the in class midterm, the glass once half empty, suddenly looks very half full. 

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re more ready than anyone else in class.”

“How do you know that?”

Mingyu stares at you blankly, “If I don’t know that, then who else does?”

You have tears in your eyes, which is embarrassing enough since this is the second time you’ve teared up in front of him, but also because you’re in a library following Mingyu around like a lost duck because he insists on putting the books he borrowed back onto the shelves himself after registering the return. 

“But I don’t feel like I’m ready,” you whine, turning the corner as he searches for the last spot to place his final book. 

“You’ll realise just how ready you are when all those hieroglyphs on the page start to make sense to you,” he grunts the last bit out as he reaches on his tippy toes to shove the book back up. 

Dusting his hands off, he adjusts his shirt before turning to you, “You only feel that way because I’ve been giving you harder problems to work on. You’re past the level you need to be at right now. Trust me, you’re more than prepared.”

“But—”

“Listen,” he waves to the librarian as you both leave the library, your eyes still glistening as you fiddle with your sleeves. “It’s only the midterm—”

“Only the—”

“If this goes wrong, I’m just gonna have to work you harder for the real thing. Even though I know it won’t go wrong because I said so.”

You fall into silence as he walks you towards the coffee shop across the courtyard. 

“I’m assuming…” you start. 

“Hm?” he looks over to you.

“I’m assuming you can’t hint at what’s on the paper.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh of disbelief, “You assume correct. I’m not going through hell with this job just to lose it because of a paper leak.”

“But it’s just the midterm,” you mumble, not even close to remotely audible. 

“What did you say?” Mingyu smirks. 

“Nothing,” you huff.

“You know, I’m a little offended you don’t trust me.”

“Who said I didn’t.”

“Well then, stop being such a worrywart.”

There must be something written on your face, because as you pass Mingyu standing at the door he keeps open for you, entering into the coffee shop with fallen shoulders, he seems to change his mind. 

He brings you a coffee, sits you down, and gives you something else you need. “I made the paper. Every question. And I taught you. Every concept. So I definitely know you’re gonna be fine.”

In that moment, with the large glass walls of the warm coffee shop, the afternoon sun comfortably resting on every last object of the room, you don’t see it illuminate anything other than the man before you. 

Perhaps you're being dramatic at the revelation, but you don’t take anything into account as you note Mingyu’s eyes and how they sparkle like they were gifted from the centre of a flaming volcano, brown and polished more than any jewel or stone you’d ever seen. Reaching out to touch him, you know you’d feel nothing but smooth stone, the indentations only possible by a being beyond what you could comprehend. 

He’d given you more than just reassurance, and at times, his timing makes it feel like he was sent from the heavens itself, just for you. 

You sniffle. 

His hands brush over yours as he hands you a napkin, and even more so, cover your own as he takes your freezing fingertips into his own palm, the contact burning you like hot coal. 

You know he’s real. And you don’t know why quite just yet, but that reassurance is enough to give you calm.

Monday

You were alright, but it seems that Mingyu seemed to disintegrate right after he was done reassuring you to the moon and Saturn and Jupiter and back.

It’s midterm day, and as always on every Monday morning, you enter the empty lecture hall with two warm coffees in your hand, ready for whatever shitshow you’d have to perform for today.

It seems Mingyu must defect from at least one regular string of behaviour to remain as Mingyu, who on this occasion, stands before you in a baby blue polo sweater. 

Except you only know that because you can see the unique collar, but it might also be important that his back is turned towards you. 

“Morning, champ,” he gruffs, nothing encouraging about his voice in the slightest. 

Your breath hitches when you finally see his face, eyes sunken in and face pale. His lips are chapped and peeling, eyes half closed. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that, why has everyone been looking at me like that?” he huffs in one long, rapid question. 

“Um, I mean,” you stare at his shirt that’s backwards. And inside out. “I can’t tell if that’s a choice or a mistake.”

Looking down at his front, he looks back up, “What?”

“Your collar is…not at your collar, Mingyu. And your shirt’s inside out.”

Hand at his nape, he reaches his fingers down and finds the unmistakable starched planes of his collar, eyes closing at the realisation. He’s immediately pulling his arms out of the shirt with his eyes still closed like it’d all disappear if he keeps them like that. 

“Wait!” you exclaim before he strips entirely, scrambling to put your coffees down to push him out of the room towards the restrooms. “Do you wanna strip for the CCTVs?”

You only hear him sigh as he moves out and into the hall, doors closed behind him. 

You’ve nearly forgotten about the midterm at this point, your concern now growing in a completely different direction. By the time Mingyu returns, he’s blabbing about wondering why everyone he ran into since he left home was giving him the strangest looks, and then something about you always swooping in to save him before the real bout of disaster strikes. 

It’s hard for you to listen to him when you’re more worried about him passing out, his face doing him no favours to reassure you that he wasn’t a breathing corpse. 

“Mingyu…did you sleep at all?”

“Hm?” His eyes are glazed over and unfocused. 

“Sleep? Rest?”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Not really. I had emails coming in all night.”

“And you were replying?”

“It's the midterm today,” he responds flatly, like it should’ve been enough explanation. 

You almost don’t believe him. “Doesn’t mean you stay up to answer something that should’ve been cleared out beforehand!”

“Couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves,” he dramatises. 

“Yes, you could!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected, eyes wide as you realise what he’s doing to himself. “You barely look human and it’s only the midterm.”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“I don’t know if this job is really worth as much as you think it is.”

Mingyu’s jaw is clenched, fists tight as he releases them to grip paper weight on the desk, knuckles white. “I can’t get anywhere if I don’t—”

“Mingyu, please. This isn’t good for you.”

He says your name. Declarative, almost like a warning. “If you think this job isn’t worth it then you just don’t know.”

“Mingyu—”

“No, you don’t, because I’ve seen how good of a job I’ve been doing.”

“You have, you’ve been amazing but—”

Mingyu’s own voice is raised, a hard impenetrable floor to the words he spills. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse!”

And then he’s getting out of his chair with so much force it almost knocks it backwards, “Why on earth do you care so much? So what if I look like a corpse, if I‘m doing my job?” 

It might’ve been better if he knocked the chair right into you, your breath dissipating in your chest like it never existed. His face is morphed in an expression of exasperation your anxieties fear the most, every line on his face committed to irritation and anger. 

Why on earth do you care so much?

Right. Why do you? 

“Are you asking me that?”

“What?”

“Are you asking me why I care?” 

Mingyu only sighs, shoulders dropping and eyes closed. Like so many times before, you watch run a hand through his hair, except this time he yanks on the strands harder than ever before. 

His eyes are bloodshot. 

“I have to get the exam pack.”

Marching out the door in front of your own eyes, you’re left with a feeling that’s right in the back of your throat, curling and whirling into something you wish you could hack and gag out. Gripping the corner of the professor’s desk, you feel the peeling wood cut into your skin. 

There’s a draft, the delayed slam of the door has only hit its wind now, a delayed reaction. It’s like it registers in your mind as you feel strands of your hair shift, the clarity that comes with it.

Delusive. Chimeric. Cruel.

Everything you’d subjected upon yourself. A whimsical fantasy between pages of logic and numbers, a story that simply didn’t fit where the laws wouldn’t allow it. 

The null hypothesis of your most elaborate nightmares.

Monday

Your favourite commonplace box, where your mother once placed all her most prized jewels, had a finicky latch. 

It wasn’t broken, simply worn in from years of opening and closing. It took a few tries to get it shut. Simply pressing down with pressure didn’t work; you had to open it again, press down on the individual elements of the latch and then try again. 

You were never satisfied until you heard the distinct click of the latch fixing itself, the box closed and ready for you to hook your lock through.

Earlier on in your undergraduate career, you remember a professor talking about the effects of external factors on the mind, how they can sometimes cause it to ‘shut down’ when overwhelmed or stressed. 

It’s happened to you on many a occasion; like when you stayed up too late on a school night to watch a documentary about the Stanford prison experiment, or when you’d neglect food or water on busier days, or when you’d stop paying attention in class because you were too preoccupied thinking about Taco Tuesday. 

Regardless, you’d found a way to recognise when your brain would fall into some strange kahoots with daydreams, or whatever was bothering you, and learned ways to give yourself a reset. 

Pressuring and forcing the attention wouldn’t work, just like how the latch wouldn’t fit when you’d do the same with your beloved old box. So you’d take a walk, drink something cold, spray yourself with a garden hose, or even take a nap altogether. Opening yourself up, so the latch can finally click. 

On the morning of your midterm, when you’d ensured your brain was in optimal condition for the exam you knew would be one of the worse ones you’ll have to take, you were sure the only external force that could ruin your vibe was from God himself. 

Having been so preoccupied with your mind and its functions, you’d seemed to have forgotten where your heart had wandered off to. 

Somebody else might consider it a minor disagreement; an anxious squabble if you will. But your breakfast in your throat was enough reason to deem what happened that morning much more than that. At least for you. 

“Pass it on, please…pass it on, please.”

The sound of his voice is tectonic. Rattling in your head like a superior force had slammed into your skull like a padded hammer to a gong. 

You hated it. You hated everything. You hated yourself. And as the midterm paper reaches you with your pen in your clawed fingers, the first three questions already making perfect sense, you realise you hated Kim Mingyu the most. 

That was a lie. You were lying to yourself, yet again. 

Because it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t hate him. 

As you drift past every question of conditional experiments and screenshots of data and tables on a software, you hardly remember what you circle and what you don’t. Hardly remember what words you picked for the short answers and labels. You hardly remember taking the steps down from your seat to the front of the room, where the professor sat scrolling through his Skateboarders [!MEN ONLY!] facebook group, placing your paper down and leaving the classroom. 

Throughout your years of living, you’d learned what you needed to get your brain out of its clouded muffle, to refocus when you needed it. 

Everything. You tried everything. 

But on that day, when it mattered most, your latch never clicked.

It’s Wednesday. 

You order lunch from the Italian place a few streets down. Ravioli; it’s safe and you know you’ll like it. 

Savouring it is easy in front of another true crime show. You pull a lone soft drink from your fridge, one that your friend left weeks ago. It tastes just as bad as the last time you tasted it from someone else’s cup, but you drink it anyway, the empty can now in your trash. 

It’s 3:30 PM, and you sit at your desk. It’s strange. It feels like you’re missing something, which in ways, you are. But as you pull your laptop from your nightstand instead of out of your bag, you slow your movements. 

The papers are the same. But you read them anyway. 

Parameter estimation: Make inferences on characteristics of the population, including distributions of the variables and the effect of one variable over another. 

It’s accursed the way the universe won’t let you live. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, estimation cannot be perfect. 

Estimation cannot be perfect. 

[_]

It’s Thursday

Class. Eat. Drink. Work.

Hypothesis testing: Determine whether null hypothesis is rejected or not after data observation. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, no null hypothesis in bayesian approach!!

[_]

It’s Friday

Eat. Drink. Work.

Latent means to have meaning but is yet to be manifested. The greek letters are placeholder values for values yet unknown. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue; values that you will find out

[_]

It’s Saturday

Eat. Drink. Work.

P(A|B) = [P(B|A)P(A)

              ——————

                     P(B)

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

 it gets less complicated

 promise :/ 

[_]

It’s Sunday.

Eat. Drink. Work.

The page is blurry. Your eyes hurt. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

you’ve got this!!! < 3

You give up.

It’s Monday.

8:14 AM. 

You barely glance at the front of the room; swift turn to the left and right up the steps. Dr. Cho’s outfit almost goes unnoticed by you, tamer than most. Bright Barbie pink with large polka dots, untucked into too tight white jeans. His crocs are sparkly, at least that’s what the twinkle from up here looks like. 

He’s insulting another author, the man’s ProQuest journal article open for the world to see like a mediaeval scandal. 

There’s another person next to the whiteboards, back to the wall, hands clasped in front of him. His hair is messy, shooting lasers into the carpet as he rocks the slightest bit, listening to the professor rip this author to shreds. 

An hour later, you’re staring into the JASP software like it was written in a different language. 

Glancing next to you, the boy in the spongebob hoodie is playing sharkboy and lavagirl by himself. On your other side, the girl has the same thing as you open on her laptop, her pen occupied with drawing about a hundred tiny gojos on a bright pink sticky note. 

Bright pink sticky note. 

You snap your gaze back to your screen quickly after that. 

9:58 AM. You start packing up, shoving everything into your bag. 

Dr. Cho doesn’t even notice you slip out of the room, hardly a minute to the end of the lecture.

In the hallway, you take your first real breath in two hours. 

It’s Tuesday.

You’ve come down with something, head heavy as you feel yourself burn up. Skipping class is easy when you sleep through your alarm and every phone call from a friend asking where you are. 

They drop by, armed with medicine and soup. You almost feel better. 

It’s silent after they leave, and you realise in that moment how much you hate it. 

Opening your laptop for the first time in over 24 hours, you turn on a random podcast to play in the background, needing something to fill the air before you lose it entirely. 

The screen lands right where you left on the incredulous data presentation, unsolved tutorial paper crumpled between the screen and keyboard like a wilted leaf. 

Hot, scalding tears sting your eyeballs when you realise there was nowhere to turn to.

It’s Wednesday.

After a long day of doing nothing, still sick from whatever plagued your body, you go to bed earlier than usual.

It’s Thursday. 

Walking out of class, your mind is empty. You’re still sniffling, still achey, but better than you were. The shawl wrapped around you is warm, and your hood covers the cold tips of your ears. 

This other class makes you feel better about yourself, especially when the content is digestible and so is the professor. The TA feels like a mere accessory in the room, something you’ve learned to appreciate. 

With your gaze lowered, you only see midriffs as you walk out the classroom into the busy hallway. 

It happens in an instant, the flash of a clenched hand as the owner walks by in quick stride. An unmistakable leather strap watch with a broken clock face on the wrist.

You freeze like you’ve been caught. 

The hard bump of someone coming out the room behind you is welcomed, the annoyed “Hey!” knocking you back to earth before you could even exit the dimension. 

You’re off centre. But it’s fine. 

It’s Monday.

“Midterm results are out Tuesday morning. If you have any questions I’ll be sitting at office hours on Wednesday and Thursday, four to six in the evening. Or you could send me an email, either’s fine.”

Dr. Cho isn’t here. Something you only found out when the pitt sank in your stomach as Mingyu cleared his throat at the full hour. 

You want to leave, not caring about how strange it’d look if you did. Not caring about how he would definitely notice if you did. You want him to shut up, to stop talking, for anything to halt the way his voice infiltrates your entire being, talking about things you don’t understand but more familiar than anything else. 

Mingyu’s voice is hoarse, and you loathe the way you can tell the difference. 

It’s Tuesday.

Midterm Results for Statistics in Psychological Research.

—  92/100

It’s Wednesday. 

4:10 PM. It’s almost too much for you. Almost. 

The screech of the door is loud, the slam of the handle’s rebound even more so. The room doesn’t so much as glance at you at the door, the half full seats preoccupied with more important things. 

The front desk perks up immediately, eyes shooting towards the door for the nth time that day, like he was expecting someone that never seemed to show up. 

It’s ironic, you think, how Mingyu never seemed to notice you walk into the room for the many months you’ve walked in just for him. And now, as you walk in fists clenched and jaw set, eyes wild and burning, he’s breaking away from a student to look at the door before you even come into view. 

“Did you feel bad?” you spit.

“What?” he whispers. He seems to come around, glancing back before continuing, “Can we talk? Please.”

“Answer the question, Mingyu,” you snap. You don’t care there’s a confused student sitting right across from the both of you, his slot interrupted by your barge. “Did you feel so bad you had to give me something I didn’t earn?”

He’s stood up now, half confused. “Is this about the midterm—”

“I did not get a ninety two, I know I didn’t,” you grit. “Whatever happened before that stupid paper made sure I wouldn’t.”

Mingyu says your name and the sound makes you want to vomit. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I fucked up because of you?” you announce, louder than before. 

The world disappeared, your tunnel vision pointed at Mingyu’s face that wears an expression you cannot even begin to read. The unbecoming tears in your eyes are of a type of unadulterated rage you’ve felt only a few times before. Your heart is going about a million miles a breath, everything else only triggering an added bout of infuriated tremble in the forefront of your emotions. Nothing makes sense. 

Mingyu pushes back his chair in silence, stalking over to a large cupboard in the corner of the room. He shuffles around for a minute before returning. 

There’s a packet being thrust into your fists when he reaches you. He does not meet your eyes. 

A bright red 92/100 marks the front page.

“Here. It was all you, if you can’t believe me.”

It’s a careful mark, unmistakable lines and curves of the nine and the two. 

Reality is slow to sink in, but for some reason it’s only making you angrier. The paper curls under the pressure of your fingertips. You don’t open the packet. You refuse to flick through the pages. 

Because you know you’ve lost.

It’s Thursday. And it’s full of regret. 

There’s a sickness in you, from that dreaded day, something beyond what affects your body temperature and your energy. It’s in your mind, flooding the nerves that swim through every crevice and cave of your brain, a physical venom that does the opposite of kill but also the opposite of letting you live. 

There’s a feeling in you, that even if you were to open your mouth, unhinge your jaw, try to scream as loud as your throat would allow, there would be no sound. Something like a horrible dream, that you need to screw your eyes tight shut to fall out of. Except you aren’t waking up from this one. 

In a coffee shop, where Mingyu held your hand in a reassurance you now bleed for, you were sure he was real. Real like some deiform image; too good to be true. 

In your bed, dry tears on your face, midterm packet sifted through that showed you absolutely everything that you did right, thanks to him. He feels too real. Real like a cloud of obsidian that follows you everywhere, like the sad that’s been sleeping with you every night. 

If there was a way to hate someone more than a human limit, you’ve crossed it with the resentment you’ve now fostered for yourself. 

Barging into office hours like that, accusing him on a basis of nothing but your own dangerously stewed thoughts. If there was a hope of salvaged parts, you took a hammer to it in disregard; tearing it to ribbons that lay at your feet. 

It’s Friday.

At least it was. It bled into Saturday before you realised the 3:23 AM on the dial. 

Two weeks of no help and you already feel lightyears behind. The hour is getting to you, and you feel the frustration pool into tears, that turn into full fledged sobs. You’re crying over Bayesian inference and it’s somehow more pressing than any other emotion you’ve ever felt. 

Impossible numbers on your data sheets taunt you, not a single reference to if it was a button you clicked wrong or if you were playing a fool’s game altogether. 

Ding! You pick up your phone, the weight of it is enough gravity to pull you back to earth. 

[Mingyu]: switch to bF10 

[Mingyu]: you’ve been pulling numbers from bF01

It’s immediate the way your eyes dart towards your lit screen, clicking off tables to get to the drop down menu you need. And there on the left, two tiny buttons, one clicked on bF01. 

With shaking fingers, you move your cursor to hover over the tiny bF10, anticipating. You click. It takes a moment for the numbers to change, but they do. The nominal values turn into something you can actually work with. 

Something akin to a tut leaves you, hidden in the breath of another sob. It’s stupid, unreasonable, absurd. Your fingers hover over your phone, shaking as tears drop onto the screen, faster than before. 

Do you not miss me?

Do you not want me around?

Talk to me

I miss you

Please talk to me

“I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true.”

Mingyu is a product of his personality. You can only imagine he’s helped because he saw you struggling in class, heard from someone else, or perhaps, he just knew the very thing you’d make blunders out of. 

The reasons come to you, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like the knife’s twisted a full 360, that despite the way you accused him of the thing that would strip him of everything he’s bruised himself for, he helps you. The very thing that caused this rift in the first place. 

There’s a reason for that, and it is again, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. 

It’s Saturday. 

Perhaps you relied on your olfactory senses to remain calm, because you always knew you could count on a coffee shop to forever and always smell the same. 

The universe seems to want to ruin that for you too. 

“Latte, please,” you voice. “Iced.”

“We have a one plus one for the week! Would you like to receive another latte?” The lady taking your order looks no older than 17, a pep in her voice. 

“Um, no thank you. Just one, please.”

She looks taken aback, a reasonable reaction to anyone turning down a free drink. But you couldn’t bring yourself to walk home with two cups in hand. 

You’re plucking a napkin from the pickup counter when you hear his name. 

“...that he manipulated her grade because they were hooking up.” 

“He has time to hook up?”

“I remember hearing about that! She barged in during office hours and asked why he fixed her grade or something.” 

“A ninety two? In that class? Oh, they were definitely fooling around with each other.”

“Whatever, at least we know he’ll entertain you if he likes you enough. I’m just glad those two are over so I can swoop in.”

There’s an eruption of giggles. You press your head down further. 

“Unless he flirts in variables.”

“All is forgiven when you’re born with a face like that.” 

Another explosion of giddy laughter, through which your drink is slid across the counter towards you, like it was waiting for you to hear the damning evidence before you could leave. You grab it anyway, grip tighter than usual. 

Turning around, your eyes search, finding a group of people that sit in smiles and in various states of trust-falls. 

There she is, the girl you sat with on the first day you attended office hours, the one with the glitter gel pen doodles on her notes and her blatant fawns over the TA you slipped under just as easily. 

She locks eyes with you and her face falls, eyes widening the slightest bit in recognition. 

Pressing your lips into a smile, you hope it doesn’t look as menacing as you feel. You don’t wait for a response before you walk out the large glass doors.

It’s Sunday.

It seems every sip of water you’ve taken during the week has been used up in all the tears you’ve seemed to be shedding. By the bucketload.

Alas, even blurry and puffy eyed, you pour over statistical formulas anyway, running on no energy and all antagonism. It’s another tutorial sheet left incomplete, a single question taking a pour that lasts in at least an hour of struggle. 

Reading the same question for the nth time, your palms press into your temples as you stare lasers into the paper, like the revelation would come to you if you stared it down hard enough. It doesn’t make sense, the commands you’ve toggled on and off identical to the instructions on the page. 

Hence the question begs why the data was coming out like someone pressed the ultimate on a number generator. 

With a heat of unreasonable embarrassment, you find yourself checking your selection in one of the drop down menus, switching to bF01 and back just to see the difference. It does nothing to help, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved it wasn’t that particular snag. 

The library is as silent as it could possibly be on a Sunday morning, near empty as you occupy the mostly vacant seats. The librarian is having her own day off, as you could swear she’s playing computer games behind the counter instead of actual work. 

The only noise in the room is your own breathing, and that seems to be enough to mess with your concentration. You’re going cross eyed staring at the page for so long, the words doubling and  disappearing before going back to normal. 

Bayesian inference…z scores…null hypothesis…

Wait. 

It’s like you can see it in front of your eyes right now, the scribble of someone else’s dark blue on your notes.

no null hypothesis in bayesian approach

Bayesian approaches don’t use null hypotheses. And z scores are in…

“Oh my god, this is a t test,” you whisper to yourself in disbelief. Immediately, you’re scrambling to shake your laptop out of its sleep, switching over to a t test to redo everything, following the instructions on the same data set. 

And there it was…a clear 0.067 under the p value. 

In a moment of questioning, you laugh out a breathy sound, the absurdity of it all becoming too real. T tests were the first thing you learned, the foundation to all your statistical knowledge. Coming so far, and it took you days to realise the instructions under a Bayesian approach were for a different realm entirely. 

It was stupid of you. But in this difficult aftermath you can’t help but feel victorious. Laughing to yourself quietly in this empty library. 

When the initial adrenaline fades and you’ve double, triple checked to ensure you were right, you can only stare at the tiny mail button in your shortcuts on the screen. It was clearly an error, one that was given out to nearly a hundred students. 

The first step was clicking, your inbox coming to life as you drift towards the big blue button with the readily available NEW MAIL. So you click. 

There’s an attached file in the email you draft. 

The tutorial paper has titled t test instructions as a Bayesian approach. Just wanted to point it out and ask if I could receive a corrected version. 

Regards, YN

It’s almost like you’re trying to remember how it feels like when you type an experimental m in the To bar. His name pops up immediately, email address typed out in full, full name clear on top as a regular contact. 

You don’t need a suggestion to remember, his email came easier to you than your own. 

But you don’t email him, backspacing till it’s empty once again. 

Dr. Cho’s email sits in that place instead, a first for you. 

SEND.

You don’t expect him to reply on a Sunday, in fact, you aren’t sure if he’s going to respond at all. You’ve already shut your laptop, half out of your seat in an attempt to pack up. You’re forced to consider. 

Would it be terrible to go back and cc him as well? 

A spiteful part of you might find joy in correcting him for a change. The rational part of you wants to actually finish the tutorial before tomorrow’s class when you’d have to tackle another beast for the rest of the week. 

Sitting back down, you move without thinking. Your mind is still cooking up possibilities as you swing your screen open once again, still weighing as you click back into your inbox. 

There’s a new email in your sent box after you’re done, a copy of the one you sent your professor, the same attachment and the same question; word for word. The only difference, a more familiar name in the address bar. 

Before you can chicken out, you slam your laptop shut for the actual last time, shoving everything into your bag before the speeding thoughts can infiltrate your mind's barrier. You’re out the door before you know it, ready to be done with this. 

You’re afraid if you put a hand to your stomach it’d be met with kicks and punches, especially with the way you feel the aggressive cartwheels slashing away at your insides. The butterflies are making it to the end of your food pipe, and you briefly wonder if you need to break into a sprint to make it to a safe throwing up zone. Your entire being jolts as you feel a buzz in your hands, a loud click that signifies a new email in your inbox. 

Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, you stop. 

The grip you have on your phone is unyielding, your fingers beginning to hurt from the pressure. There’s no way to tell if you’re shaking or not, but you bring your phone to your face anyway. The screen flips on, a lone notification on the screen. 

RE: Tutorial Error from Kim Mingyu

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since you sent that email, the library still in sight from where you stand. At the same time, it’s almost funny you expected any different from him. 

The kicks and punches in your stomach halt, the cartwheels have calmed, the butterflies have fallen asleep. The grip on your phone has loosened, and it’s like every nerve in your body went from on fire to serenity in a whiplash inducing shift. 

Clicking on the notification, the email opens. 

Noted. I have another tutorial sheet for you if you want it. I’ll be in the room where office hours are held for the rest of the morning.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

There was no way he didn’t have a softcopy he could send you in less than a minute, and you’re sure he knew you’d realise that too. You should scoff, be upset, roll your eyes. 

But instead, you find your feet making a 180, turning around to go right back to where you came from. You walk, eyes still half trained on the email, reading and rereading as you walk back onto campus, towards the building you’d once considered a second home. 

You walk, and walk and walk, in through the doors, up the stairs and then another set of them, you take a left and look up. The hallway is empty, the door on the right coming into view as you slow your steps significantly. 

Closer and closer, you realise the light surrounding it is brighter than usual. The door is open, and you can see the empty rows of tables and chairs, set neatly against one another. It’s strange, you’ve never seen it wide open before. 

Walking even closer, you can see the beginnings of the professor’s desk come into view, and it only takes you one more step forward. 

Standing in the doorway now, you find yourself in the direct path of the sun that pours in through the open windows. It’s warm, but just enough to combat the cooling weather. 

The desk up front is occupied, as it always is. 

Mingyu is only in a t-shirt and trousers, glasses perched on his nose as he scrawls away on the paper in front of him. His laptop is turned on, screen facing the door where you stand, his inbox open and available even on the weekend. 

It wasn’t that you were waiting for him to notice, but you found yourself inadvertently taking your time looking at him. Every other situation, you’d done your absolute best to avoid your eyes grazing over him at all costs, hardly drifting over his form before flitting away. You never did it on purpose, but it was more like you were unconsciously protecting yourself.

 Like looking at him would only make the ache in your heart worse.

If that was the case, you would’ve been right. There’s a tug in your chest, and in that moment, it all comes flooding in like a gate destroyed. 

Mingyu looks up and sees you in the doorway, standing immobile. He sets his pen down, taking his glasses off. There’s the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he greets you, “‘Morning.”

You take it as your cue to move forward, stepping foot into the patch of sun slowly. “‘Morning.”

You reach the desk, standing in front of him, the only thing blocking you being the littered table with files, papers and stationary; the trench between you both. 

It’s so silent it tears at your insides, gripping the strap of your bag to have something to do. 

“I, uh, double checked when I saw the email. You were right, nobody noticed in class either.” There’s an airiness in his voice, like he might be struggling just as much as you are right now. 

He clears his throat when you don’t respond, looking back down at his workspace like he was looking for something. He finds a paper from some stack, handing it over to you. 

“Thanks,” you hoarse. It’s the same tutorial you had, except the instructions had been crossed out, replaced by a list of handwritten instructions instead, detailed in their annotation. You recognise it, because of course you’d recognise his handwriting. 

“I didn’t have time to print one out right now. I’ll probably send a corrected copy to everyone tonight,” he explains. 

“That’s alright.” You look up, lips pressed together, eyebrows forced into a regular position on your face. Nodding, you thank him once again. “Thanks again. I’ll…get going.” 

Every fibre in your body screams at you to turn back around, hollering profanities at your inability to deal with this. You’re already halfway to the door though, and your pride’s already deemed it too late. 

Please stop me, please stop me, please stop me, please just say something and stop me—

There it is. Your name, from his mouth, in his beautiful voice. 

Turning back around is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. 

Mingyu has stood up from his seat, out from behind the desk. He looks like he wasn’t expecting you to turn back. “Can we talk?” 

And then he’s pulling out the chair he was sitting on, presenting it like a piece offering. If you heard correctly, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice break the slightest bit when he pressed, “Please?”

So there you were, in a position all too familiar as you sit across from the man that’s haunted you for the past weeks, trying to keep your chest from falling in. 

“I guess I should start with an apology,” he’s fidgeting with his own fingers. “I don’t need to give you excuses about stress or exhaustion because…”

He closes his eyes, trying to find the words. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You were only trying to help and I was too preoccupied with myself to notice. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that when you didn’t deserve it.” 

For about the millionth time, you realise you’re tearing up again. He continues. “And then…right before the midterm too. You were right, I did feel horrible. But I swear that grade was all you, I didn’t touch those numbers.”

He really didn’t, because the papers he had thrust into your hands on that fateful day in this very room proved that you earned that mark. You wince regardless.

“I thought I could apologise before the exam started but I couldn’t find you, and then you were gone right after. I didn’t text or call because I was sure I’d fucked it all up.” 

“I’m sorry too. For barging in in front of everyone and basically accusing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” You look up from your lap, wet lashes and all. “I really hope you didn’t get into any trouble.” 

“I–no, I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I promise I didn’t.” He locked eyes with you when he said that, hoping you’d believe him. You nod slowly. 

“It wasn’t even that bad, what you said,” you sniffled. 

He scoffs at that, “I’d beg to differ.”

“I would’ve gotten over it,” you continue, bracing yourself to admit to something you’ve had trouble admitting to yourself. “I should’ve gotten over it. I don’t know why it hurt so much, why watching you walk out felt so horrible. But I haven’t been acting like normal ever since, and I’m sorry for stretching this whole fiasco out into something that didn’t need to turn into…this!”

“You were hurt because I hurt you.”

“People have said worse things to me. And you were practically a zombie, I should’ve just left it for another time. It was a little bit my fault too. But…yeah.”

There’s a silence as you try to remind yourself to breathe. You speak up again. “I just want us to go back to normal. I’ve missed you. Alot.”

“Me too. The go back to normal bit. And the…missed you bit.”

Mingyu’s half smiling when you look up, biting your lip hard as you try to keep a smile of your own at bay. “I’d thought if I gave up and admitted I was struggling that day, that’d be admitting defeat. That you’d think I…couldn’t do it.” 

Why on earth do you care so much? It rings in your ears. 

You sound light when you say it though, knowing now it wasn’t what he meant.“Since when are we on caring terms?” 

Mingyu cringes. "We are. I am, at least, if you aren't anymore, which is fine. I care about you. A lot."

It’s hard to not let out a laugh. He looks half constipated as he tries to navigate his words. 

“Oh well I’d hope you’d care, since you’re my TA and all.”

“Not in a TA way.”

“Tutor way.”

“Um.”

“Friend way? A human way?” 

“No.”

You both know you’re being obtuse on purpose, and you aren’t sure why. Maybe you just like to watch him squirm. 

“You know what?” he rasps. 

“What?”

Your answer comes in the form of Mingyu lurching to grab the legs of your chair, pulling the wheels to crash into him where he sits. You’re not expecting it, the clashing legs causing you to swerve forward, hands on Mingyu’s lap. 

And then his hand is on the back of your neck, and his lips placed on your own. 

You’re stiff as a board, brain computing the fact that Mingyu is kissing you in a classroom. 

It’s short, hardly a few moments before he pulls away. “Does that clear things up?”

There’s nothing you can do but blink at him, the reality of it all settles in. “Hm.”

He laughs at your half dazed state. It’s a purely instinctual part of you that speaks after this. “Maybe one more time. To make sure.”

Mingyu doesn’t even wait to laugh again as he wastes no time, putting his mouth on yours properly this time. There’s more of a drive in you this time, moving your mouth against his and he keeps your head close. 

The ecstasy is slow but sure to build in your stomach. Mingyu is kissing you. Mingyu is sitting with you and kissing you so good you’re already half faint. 

His mouth tastes like coffee and remnants of berry, a combination you can’t believe you could enjoy this much. Licking into his mouth, you let your tongue drag over his, like the tactile would convince you this wasn’t some too vivid fever dream. 

He pulls away for a moment, but hardly so as his lips remain pressed onto yours. 

“For the record,” he pants. “I love that you care. And I hope you’ll keep caring. Because I don’t think I can handle it if you walk away after this.”

Mouth back on his own, you decide there’s only one way to convince him you weren’t going anywhere without dragging him with you. 

MINGYU'S APARTMENT IS CLEANER than you expected. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, perhaps more mad scientist than anything else. But the most you find is a mug and plate in the sink, and a moderately crowded study desk, which is to be expected. 

Mingyu decided to abandon his work for the day to spend it with you, to which you contest that it was Sunday anyway. His response is making you change into something comfortable of his so you could laze on his couch. 

Like you would run away if he didn’t, Mingyu keeps his arms around you in a tight hold, fingers curling around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. Your head rests directly over his heart, his cheek and lips taking turns to occupy the top of your head.  

You fill him in on everything, and realise the most eventful weeks you’ve spent were actually quite uneventful in hindsight. He feels up your cheek and forehead when you tell him you got sick at one point, to which you have to reassure him it was either something going around or stress that you subjected on yourself. 

“I went to a frat party,” Mingyu mumbles into your forehead. “For Halloween.”

The information has you shifting to look up at him in bewilderment, “You went to a frat party?”

He snorts, “Dressed up for it too.”

“Oh my god,” you voice in mild horror. “Do I wanna know?” 

“Wonwoo and I matched,” he hums as he pulls out his phone, scrolling his gallery to look for pictures. “I was Mario, he was Luigi.”

“How adorable.”

He only gives you a look and shoves the phone in your face. By some grace of god they aren’t wearing moustaches, but the distinct red and green outfits are enough to give you enough recognition. 

“Thing 1 and Thing 2 were also possible contenders,” he informs. 

“That might’ve been a little better.”

“What’s wrong with Mario?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing. But I do hope you weren’t sporting an Italian accent throughout that.” 

“I was,” he pushes. “A horrible one too.”

You give him the satisfaction of an eye roll. 

“You could’ve gone as Peach. We could’ve matched.” 

“I don’t know if I’d wanna wear any available Peach costumes during Halloween time.” You crinkle your nose as you think of all the racy costumes that unearth every October. 

“Maybe in private,” he says with an insufferable smile on his face. 

Placing your hands flat on his chest, you rest your chin and look up at him. “I’m not sure I want to interrupt whatever you two have going on.” 

“Who?”

“You and Wonwoo, you’re practically married.”

Mingyu laughs out loud, and you can feel the rumble in his chest against your hands, his body moving against your own that’s stuck to him. “Not with whatever he has going on with his girl.”

“Oh right,” you frown in remembrance. “What happened to not understanding how he does it?” 

“Hm?”

“He’s a TA too. Probably just as busy as you. You said you didn’t know how he could juggle a relationship and his job at the same time.”

His eyes spark in remembrance, pausing for a moment. “I may owe him an apology.”

“Do you?”

Mingyu frowns, “Actually no I don’t. I don’t think he and his lady are doing too well right now. He’s been insufferable lately.”

“Is it because of the TA-ing?”

“I never know with those two,” he sighs.

There’s silence once again, in the midst of which Mingyu leans over to kiss you a few times, soft and lingering. Like he’s trying to familiarise himself with the shape of your mouth, the tactile feeling of kissing you. 

“Do you…know about us?” There’s hesitancy in the way you ask. But you can’t help but ask anyway.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, and it has your heart beating out of your chest. “I know that I want us to be concrete. That I wanna work around whatever life throws at us. You can decide what to call it, but I know I’m in it for the long run.”

“I’m glad you’re smarter than your husband,” you smile.

He only rolls his eyes, “He’s only good at one kind of chemistry.” 

“D’you think they’ll be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he assures. “They’re just going through a…rough patch.”

“Like we did?”

“If you’re asking me, I’d say they’re being a little more stupid about it.”

The snort that leaves you is unanimous with his own. He continues, “They’ll be okay though.”

“I hope so. I’d like to go on double dates with my boyfriend’s husband’s girlfriend.” You start giggling in the middle of your sentence, too ridiculous even for you to voice. 

“This is getting weird,” Mingyu breathes. 

You only hum against his mouth, “Do I have to take your husband's blessing before we can move forward?”

“For fuck’s sake.” 

You’re both laughing again, a sound that comes from your stomachs, true and uncontrollable. For a moment, you can’t help but be conscious of how light you feel, how happy you feel with his scent infiltrating your nostrils, his presence known where his fingertips touch you. 

“I did the sticky note thing again too,” Mingyu says into the silence, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the fit of giggles that erupt all over again. 

“Said something worse this time,” he continues as you laugh into his chest. “Accept that you’ll die alone or some other shit like that.” 

There’s comfort in this moment. In your giggles and in your tears, in his voice and in his affection. His lips are another sanctuary you’ve found, and perhaps even another way to make your dreaded latch click. 

Nose nuzzled in his cheek, the feeling of his skin so soft against yours, fingers at his chin where a slight stubble grows, you relax in ways you cannot comprehend. 

MINGYU'S LIPS BECOME A feeling you’ve grown dangerously accustomed to. 

It isn’t that he has them on you too much, regardless of what an outsider might suggest; to you they simply aren’t on you enough. 

The following Monday went as usual, for you anyway. You weren’t avoiding Mingyu this time, and you were grateful for it. It was two hours of following him with your eyes as he darted around the room. You could hardly constitute it as not paying attention when Dr. Cho was preoccupied with explaining every reason he hates JASP over SPSS, but also ultimately, hates them both. 

You don’t even notice his loud outfit (overalls and a neon green sweater underneath), happy to watch Mingyu flit about and whisper incoherent explanations to students. 

The tutorial paper is barely looked at by you, because you know your boyfriend will be happy to help you out later at his place. 

You’re barely through the door that night when he gets a hold of you, tight grip across your waist as you’re catapulted into his arms, door slammed shut behind you. 

Bag still on your shoulders and your shoes still on, Mingyu’s slammed his mouth onto yours before you can take a proper breath. You stumble, squealing through the kiss as you realise you aren’t escaping the iron grip he’s got on your face. 

Somehow between it all, you manage to slip your bag off to let it drop to the floor of his doorway, shoes kicked off one after the other as he leads you inside, littering the way. 

“You aren’t actually paying attention in class anyway,” he breathes against your mouth before kissing you again. “So why don’t you sit in the back where you don’t distract me.”

“Who says I’m not paying attention.” You open your as your back lands on the couch, looking at him as he looms overhead. 

“You’re paying attention to me.”

“It was in my job description when I signed up for the girlfriend position.”

He’s all over you now, hands at your sides, mouth underneath your earlobes as he husks, “Was letting me take you in front of the entire class also a clause? Because if this goes on I might have to take up on that.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he’d been possessed, everything about his behaviour screaming the opposite of the well behaved, restrained man you’ve been accustomed to. The fact that he’s whispering directly into your ears isn’t helping either, a conspicuous shiver dragging across your spine. 

It lands with precision, right at your core. You’re too hot to tell, but there isn’t a doubt you’ve begun to pool. 

There’s a ding in the background. 

He’s suckling underneath your ear, his hands roaming in ways that would smear your reputation altogether. 

Another ding. 

He’s reached your mouth once again, groping your right breast lightly. Like he’s testing the waters.

Ding. 

Mingyu makes a noise of annoyance, the other hand trailing underneath your shirt. 

His ringtone blares throughout the room, whoever the caller was having reached wit’s end. 

“Gyu…” you whisper. 

“Ignore it,” he growls. The ringing has stopped. 

He ducks underneath to kiss at your stomach, lifting your shirt oh so slowly. He goes higher, and higher and higher, leaving a trail of kisses at the skin, taking deep breaths as he drags his mouth over your torso. 

His phone begins to ring again. 

Your head is spinning, your senses overcome. If you weren’t sure before, the air of wetness between your legs is definitely obvious now. 

He brings a hand to your centre, pushing inwards at your jean clad core. You exhale sharply yet shakily. 

The ringing stops. 

Mingyu makes a gumbled sound that you can’t quite make out, too preoccupied with the way your shirt is now up past your bra, at which Mingyu has taken to leaving open mouthed kisses to your cleavage. 

There’s a ding. 

“Mingyu, I really think—”

His phone begins to ring again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he curses, rearing his head like an interrupted animal, wet mouthed and bleary eyed. He looks at his buzzing phone on the floor in an accusatory glare, like he wants to chuck it out the window and go right back to burrowing into your chest. 

“You should answer.” 

He looks irritated as he takes his phone in his hands, and you find a flash of Dr. Cho’s name on the screen. “It’s eleven O’clock.” 

“It might be important.”

“The last time he did this he asked where his peacock feather pen was,” he grunts as he silences his phone. 

You laugh, running a soothing hand through Mingyu’s hair, a tiny attempt to calm him down. Pulling your shirt down, you attempt to sit up. 

Mingyu makes a noise of denial, attempting to stick his face into your now clothed chest, knocking you back down, “Nooooo, I’m gonna ignore him.”

“He’s not going to leave you alone,” you sing quietly, running your nails across his scalp lightly, holding his head to your chest. You place your cheek on his head, playing with his ear. 

As if to prove your point, Mingyu’s phone begins to ring again, and he groans at the prospect. 

“Go on.”

He swipes to answer it. A loud sigh and then a tired, “Hello?”

His volume is bumped up enough for you to make out what’s being said on the other line. “Where have you been?”

“It’s nearly eleven, sir. I was in bed.”

“My flash drive won’t open up on my computer.”

You have to stifle a snort. 

“Is it…plugged in?”

“Of course it is, I’m not an idiot.”

“Is it showing up on your files?”

“Disk…is not…formatted.”

“Erm, it might be corrupted.”

“How did that happen?”

“Did you download something off the internet onto it?”

“Hardly matters, I need the attendance sheet on it!”

Your fingers are massaging Mingyu’s temples as you feel him tense on top of you. 

“Your attendance sheet is on the teacher’s portal,” Mingyu grits before adding, “sir.”

“...I have other things on there too.”

Mingyu exhales ever so quietly and you tighten your hold on him a smidge. “This sounds like something tech support could help with.”

“Why can’t you help?” he asks sharply. 

“I…I don’t know how, sir.”

There’s a noise of indignation from the other end, and you can’t help but keep from laughing. 

Mingyu sighs into the phone, this time doing nothing to hide it. “I’ll take it to tech support for you tomorrow. And I’ll send you a direct link for the attendance sheet for Monday and Tuesday’s classes.”

The line beeps shut. Mingyu brings the phone for you both to see the professor’s hung up as soon as the words left Mingyu’s mouth. 

“Wow,” you whisper into the silence, the weight of Mingyu’s head heavier on your chest. “Not even a thank you.”

“Absent father behaviour,” Mingyu grumbles as he moves his face to burrow into your shirt. 

It’s a bad joke, but you laugh anyway. 

“Will I be an asshole if I say I’m not in the mood anymore?” he murmurs. 

“Absolutely not. Everything sucked right back in the minute I heard his voice on the line.”

“Gross,” he comments, but he’s laughing too. 

“Should we call it a night?” he asks, rearing his head. 

Nodding, you rise with him. By the time you’ve reached the bedroom, you’ve already begun taking off your accessories, fiddling with your bracelet as you voice. 

“I need a shower.”

Mingyu throws you a towel and a t-shirt, which you catch and move towards the bathroom. Halfway through the door, you sneak a look at him fiddling with his belt. 

“Do you wanna come in too?” 

Mingyu looks at you peering through the door frame. You’ve never seen anyone leap across the room as quickly as in that moment. 

THE FOLLOWING DAYS WERE just as eventful as that phone call, Mingyu running around as the midterm low passed and the line creeped up towards finals season. 

Perhaps it was better that you stopped attending office hours, because the room seems to become increasingly packed as the days progressed. 

You only ever saw Mingyu in the wee hours of the night at his place, where he begged you to camp out till the end of the semester so he “doesn’t move to insanity”. It might even be better for you, going about your day as usual, without the usual added distraction of a partner.

Coming home to him was easier, where he could clear up your doubts while in ratty pyjamas and starfished across the bed, where you could find solace in Mingyu’s chest without prying eyes when the information became like filling an already stuffed junk drawer. 

It was a Friday night, you’re alone at Mingyu’s place sitting cross legged on the floor. The table in front of you is pouring over the final question of this week’s tutorial paper, everything seemingly whizzing right past the top of your head. 

Despite that, as Mingyu stumbles inside past eleven, you know you shouldn’t ask him for a thing. 

Tired was a look on Mingyu you’d gotten quite used to, so you’ve learned to not comment and simply let him fall into the couch cushions with all his weight. 

His face is parallel to yours as he closes his eyes with a light groan in greeting. Moving forward, you kiss the flutter of his eyelids softly, down to the apple of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth. 

Your fingers run through his tangled and distressed hair as he mumbles against your mouth. “Did you finish the tutorial paper?”

You huff in mild annoyance, that despite his state he still thinks about work. “Not yet. One last question and I’m done.”

He hums and waits a moment before reopening his eyes. With a loud groan he’s pushing himself off the couch, sliding off of it to sit with you on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“I can figure it out myself, Gyu.”

“You would’ve been done by now if you could,” he answers. It’s annoying that he says it but he’s also right. 

Mingyu holds the paper a mere inch from his eyes, the sight almost comical if he also didn’t look an inch from passing out. 

He mumbles the question as he reads, “It’s nothing, just worded weird. Toggle this off and move this to mixed factors and you’re done.”

The toggles are done for you, and Mingyu takes the liberty crossing he question off with a pen he finds on the table. 

“Did you get everything else?” he asks in earnest. 

“Hm? I think so.” 

“Good.” And then he’s throwing his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him, breathing slowly. 

He’s in a navy sweater, collar of his undershirt peeking through the top. Your gaze leads up further, to the exposed area of his throat—clean, tan and naked. You realise this might not be a good time, but it’s only natural your mind cooks up other ways to translate your helplessness as you watch your boyfriend push himself to the brink. Release is never a bad idea. 

Besides, it’s a Friday night. No reason to not. 

“Gyu,” you shuffle closer. 

Lolling his head to look over at you, he answers in a small voice, “Yeah?” 

You put on the guiltiest face you can muster, complete with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. “D’you think…d’you think you can go over post hoc tests again?”

“Post hoc?” He furrowed his eyebrows. You bite the inside of your cheek, having blurted the first plausible model you could think of to ask him. It’s an older bit of the syllabus, something you should already be well versed in. 

Not that you care what he thinks right now, he’d figure out why you were asking anyway. 

“Post hoc, um,” he rubs a hand over his face as if to jog his memory. 

Shifting forward, you plaster you front onto his side. He thinks nothing of it. 

“Analysis tool after you’ve already run the data,” he begins. 

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you let your nose nuzzle against his cheek. Trailing up, your lips find the shell of his ear. 

“Results have to be…they have to be…” He falters when your hand reaches his front, running across the expanse of his clothes stomach, nails digging ever so slightly as you reach his abdomen. You continue to place open mouthed kisses at the space of neck you can reach. 

“Hm? Has to be what?”

“Statistically significant,” he breathes when your palms reach the tops of his thighs. “To run a post hoc test.”

His trousers are less barrier inducing than regular jeans, something you’re both grateful for as you begin to palm his clothed bulge. “Results of what, baby?”

“For the love of—”

“Go on,” you whisper in his ear. “Please.”

One flick and his trousers are unbutton, pulling them aside as the zipper pulls open. You're pushing down his boxers when he answers you. “ANOVA.” 

“What’s that again?”

“You little shit.”

You move your mouth forward to kiss him.

“Analysis of variance.” 

You hum against the column of his throat at that, his half hard member in your hands. Light touches, that’s all they are, running the pads of your fingers across the pulsing length, coaxing him into full length. 

“What’s it for though? We already got our results.” Bending forward, you stick your tongue to kitten lick at his tip. Mingyu hisses, hips shifting. Your tongue swirls around the tip, pushing into the skin on the head where he’s most sensitive. 

“Ugh, fuck, for um,” he falters as you begin to suck at his head, tongue running over each hollow of your cheeks. 

“For…for…” His chest is moving up and down in quick breathes, every sound from his mouth coming from a deep rumble in his stomach. 

Letting go of his cock, you continue to pump him with your hand as you gaze up at him from your position. “For? Keep talking, baby.”

“For…To identify groups,” he grunts out. He lets out a louder moan when you place your mouth back on him, going past his tip and taking as much as you can of him into your mouth. “Identify…the differences, shit, hmph.”

He takes a loud breath before speeding through it again, “Identify which groups actually differ, oh my god.”

The bit of him that you can’t fit on your mouth is being pumped by your hands, fingers pushing into him like you were trying to indent them on the base of his cock. A glance upwards and you find his head thrown back, hands coming to tangle in your hair. His thumb caresses the side of your cheek.

“How many groups?” you ask, before diving back in. 

“Three,” he chokes out. “Three or more, oh I’m gonna cum, fuck don’t stop, holy shit.”

Both of his hands are at your head, guiding you as you suck him harder, faster, more tongue digging into his slit. You hum against his dick on purpose, making sure it’s coarse enough to get the reaction you want. 

You succeed, because immediately after you hear Mingyu rip out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard, his grip on your strands harder than ever. He cums into your mouth, hips stuttering as you place your entire weight on him to keep him in place. 

You let some of it dribble out your mouth and back over his softening dick like a hot coating, sucking him through shooting spurts of cum that land on your tongue. 

When you emerge from underneath, Mingyu looks like he got the soul sucked out of him; eyes closed, stuttered breaths raking through his entire body, a light sheen of the beginnings of sweat that glisten in the low light of the room. 

Reaching for the tissue box and water bottle on the table, you soak the napkins and bring them to clean him up. He whines when the cold tissues touch him where he’s most sensitive right now, you want to kiss him but account for the cum that is actively stuck to the walls of your mouth. 

You leave for a few minutes, much to Mingyu’s hoarse protests. He’s almost on all fours, hands on the floors as you promise to be back. By the time you’ve hauled his tired ass into bed, you’re just as ready to knock out as the half asleep man beside you. 

Mingyu’s face is plastered into your neck, arms and legs thrown over your form as he hugs you close to him. 

“I might love you,” he says into the darkness. A secret, just for you and the walls to hear. 

You hide the way your heart absolutely leaps, conceal the way your hands tighten around his form into an affectionate caress, hold your breath to prevent the inevitable hitch. 

I might love you too. 

You hide that as well. For now. 

Smiling into the skin of his temples, you sigh.

“Feel free.”

[Mingyu]: class ended early 

[Mingyu]: be there in 5 

[You]: ???

[You]: wdym ended early

[You]: kim did u end class early to come home

Your response comes in the form of the front door lock jiggling loudly. You’d stayed the night at his place, knowing you didn’t have anything to do but study by yourself. Sickly as you were, you doubt you could sit through two hours of even more statistics. 

He’d left you in bed with a kiss, needing to be extra early since Dr. Cho decided to dump the last crucial few weeks leading up to finals season entirely on his TA. As much as there was on Mingyu’s already overflowing plate now, you couldn’t deny the elated feeling of your attendance being taken care of regardless of whether you show up to class or not. 

A very real violation, but no one truly notes one skipped student in the midst of hundreds. Besides, the bag under Mingyu’s pretty eyes might be enough for anyone to have mercy and let the supposed mistake slide.

As Mingyu walks into the room, shoes flying and back dumped on the floor, he finds you still half clothed with leftover sleep in your eyes, standing in the middle of the living space like you were lost. 

He drops his things to come and drown you in his arms, loud kisses all over your face as you talk. “You’re getting too comfortable with this job.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t possibly expect me to teach a bunch of half asleep idiots when my woman is all alone at home, sickly and cold without me.”

You grumble wordlessly as you feel him check your temperature with the back of his hand. “How’s the congestion?”

“Bad,” you respond nasally. “I can’t find my Afrin.”

“It’s on the bedside table, baby.”

“No, it’s not.”

Still wrapped in his hold, Mingyu begins to take steps forward that lead towards the bed, pushing you to walk backwards.

“I’m not awake enough to navigate,” you sniff.

“I’ve got you,” he lowtones, pushing backwards slowly. 

The back of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back into the unmade sheets. You crawl back under the covers as Mingyu navigates between used tissues, water bottles and pills on the bedside table. But no sign of your nasal spray. 

You have to breathe through your mouth and you hate it, but you send a remark his way anyway. “Told you.”

Mingyu bends down and emerges with a familiar red capped bottle. He stares at you while you stare at it, choosing to simply snatch it from his presenting hands and be done with it. 

“Good thing I came back early, hm?” 

“Shut up.”

He leaps over your form to claim the spot in bed right next to you, still fully clothed as he burrows under the covers next to you.

There’s nothing flattering about the way you stick the nozzle up your nostrils and sniff hard, but the gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes might as well suggest you were trying to get him to look at you like that. 

“Are you gonna keep doing this till finals?” you ask throatily, shifting under the covers. 

“Teaching during class time is just extended office hours, I’m gonna go insane if I keep going like this. Probably just today. Or…once more if I feel it.”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna extend office hours to Fridays too?” 

Mingyu moulded himself against you, giving warmth to your shivering body even under thick blankets. 

It seems throughout the course of your relationship, your time with Mingyu is either spent laying down or in the process of doing so. Not that you mind, you’ve found that remaining horizontal was what worked best for someone like Mingyu who seemed to want to fuse with your very being whenever you were together.

“Ugh, not this week. Do not have the patience.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say, eyes closed, already on the highway to dreamland. 

“Thank you, I do think I’ve been very brave.” Even while slipping into dreamland, you find the good sense to find his nipple through his sweater and give it a hard pinch. He jerks away in a yelp, clutching his chest. 

“What’s that for?!”

You ignore him and simply run your hand over the area you just attacked. “You’ve gotten better at knowing when to slow down. I’m proud of you.”

You’re too far gone to make out what he answers you with, but with the hot breath against your already warm forehead, you decide it's more than enough for you. 

MINGYU DOES IT FOR the fourth time, but this time round he’s smart enough to not tell you. 

It’s the Friday before finals week officially begins, and you remain in your own place for once to crack down on the last bits of syllabus you want to go over, away from your extremely distracting boyfriend. 

There’s a text when you check your phone after a couple hours of hyperfocus, and you narrow your eyes at the notification. 

It’s Wonwoo’s (actual) girlfriend, and she’s sent you nothing but a picture of both of your men on Wonwoo’s living room floor, thoroughly occupied with the floored expanse of sheets, pillows and cushions. 

It’s a pillow fort.

Your boyfriend is building a pillow fort in his not-husband’s living room mere days before the final exam for the most dreaded course of the semester. All while he’s actively meant to be available for office hours.

You want to laugh. The man that stayed up multiple nights to answer stupid questions in emails, is now less than concerned about the pandemonium that is probably ensuing in the department building. It isn’t that you’re upset, because this was what you wanted from him. To learn to take a break when it was needed. But you would also prefer he’d time them a little better. 

Inevitably, you text him, but not before sending an encouraging text to your girlfriend-in-law for putting up with the both of them all by herself. 

[You]: where are you

[Mingyu]: where im meant to be?

[You]: office hours?

[Mingyu]: mhm

[You]: are u and ur husband conducting them under a pillow fort in his house

You imagine him sending Wonwoo’s girlfriend a betrayed look. Perhaps even throw a frilled throw pillow in her unassuming direction. 

[Mingyu]: DONT KILL ME

You let him suffer in your silence, clicking your phone off and leaving it somewhere you won’t be tempted to look. 

Besides, it wasn’t long before there was an incessant banging at your door that you ended up needing to get up to open. He looks so timid, the face of an innocent perpetrator that waltzes into your space. 

“I’m sorry,” he begins, following you to your desk like a lost duckling. 

“Whatever for?”

“For lying.” 

You snort as you sift through tutorial sheets, “Might wanna take that up to the poor hopeless student that thought you were their last hope.”

Mingyu’s head sinks to your shoulder where you sit at your desk. “God.”

“Him too.”

In another few moments, his arms have come around to cage you into your desk where you’re sat, hands placed on the table as he towers over the top of your head, mouth to crown. 

“Rumour has it,” he starts. 

You make a face. “Now you’ve joined in on gossip? Maybe I have steered you wrong.”

He ignores you valiantly as his mouth drops lower, down to the beginnings of the tips of your ears. You can smell him. He smells good. 

“That a textbook recitation is all it takes to get you all bothered down there.”

Lifting your head from its craned position over your papers, you stare straight ahead. Blank and unassuming. 

“Take a hike, Kim.”

“...Sorry.”

NO MATTER HOW FAKE annoyed you were at your boyfriend, you cannot possibly credit anyone else for how smooth your finals had gone. 

Not a single tear, hack or whine. Your meals were on time, your sleep schedule the healthiest it’s been for months. You even managed a movie night break in the midst of it all. A record for you. 

The very first thing you do after walking out of the exam hall, stretching and sighing, you find Mingyu waiting with nervous eyes. 

“Well?” he asks, eyes wide and lips pulled into his teeth. 

You merely grab for his hand and pull him out of the crowded hall and past a few familiar turns. 

“For the record I didn’t want some of the questions on there,” he yaps as he follows behind your stalks. “Hard ones weren’t mine. I promise I’m not a sadist.”

Then, in an un-CCTV’d corner, marked by the broken, empty vending machine, you round up on him. In seconds you’ve pulled him down to meet your lips in an eager, full kiss. 

In the moments your lips remain intact, you can feel all the horrid statistical knowledge you’d gathered over the months slip out the cracks and crevices, relieving you. 

Mingyu is careful to let you pull away first, eyes sticky to open when you do. There’s a smile on your face. “It went great.”

A strong tug against your waist and you’re suddenly pressed into Mingyu’s all too familiar hold, so everloving tight you can hardly breathe. His lips are smacking and pressing into your skin, all over your face, neck and hands. Anywhere he could possibly reach. 

There wasn’t much he could do standing in a huddled corner at nine in the morning on a Tuesday, where anyone could pass by and question what in the high school was going on. But there was more than enough Mingyu could do behind closed doors. 

In true Mingyu fashion, he’s begun to grope in every way you love the minute the lock clicks shut of his apartment, every fibre of both of your beings giddy and jumpy, giggles erupting from your tired mouths. You haven’t been touched in ages, always too tired to do anything even when you would find the time. 

It isn’t remotely strange that you're wet from only a few kisses and hot breaths against your neck. Although Mingyu’s hands haven’t been modest either, already reaching your clothed cunt as you fall into bed. 

He says it was your reward, for doing so good, his illustrious mouth suctioned onto your naked core, moving and grinding in ways you can more than just appreciate.

His tongue is nothing below made for you, like he knows exactly when to flick his tongue, graze his teeth and all but suck the daylights out of you. It’s marvellous, even more so as you realise he won’t stop. One, two, three mind blowing orgasms later, your legs still shake around his head as you cry out for him to stop. 

Not that he was going to listen, as he did not the last fifteen times you tried, simply pushing a finger into your abused hole to chuck you into yet another climax. You’re sobbing, trembling, sweating; but also half hearted in your attempts to stop him. 

By the time he’s relented, you’re sure you won’t feel a thing down there for at least a week. If Mingyu will even let you go untouched for that long. 

But as you’re finally able to catch your long lost breath in bed, and Mingyu has curled up right beside you, like he always does, you let the finality of it all sink in. You were done. And so was he. And you could now begin to experience a Mingyu that wasn’t exhausted, stressed or tired. Even now, the long indented layers of fatigue begin to melt away, revealing a less strained man. 

Mingyu was beautiful either way. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you, his fingers tracing your features. 

The pads of his fingers glide across your eyelids, down the slope of your nose, tracing the outline of your lips. You kiss his fingers as they reach you there, hand coming up to hold his wrists. You kiss the tips of his fingers, down to the palm of his hand. Eyes closed, you keep your lips there. 

“More than okay,” you mumble. 

“Good. Thought I lost you there.”

Stretching unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his naked form, head on his shoulder. “You’re not losing me. Not after being the sole reason I pass this devil’s module.”

“Is that all it takes? Make sure you don’t fail?”

“And give head like that.” It’s a half joke. “But also be Kim Mingyu comma TA.”

He mimics you between a breathy laugh, “Comma TA. Not anymore, I guess.”

“How happy are you?”

“Still have to grade the last set of papers. But I got what I wanted.”

“The recommendation? You deserve it.”

“That, and not having to be in Dr. Cho’s presence every other day. And you.”

You kiss his shoulder. “Look at you. All grown up with your big boy grad school on the horizon.”

“Not just yet.”

“You’ll get there too. If you can power through this hellsent semester, you can power through anything grad school applications throw.”

Mingyu shifts where he lays, taking a turn to lie on his side to face you. The afternoon sun peeks from behind his form, his outline made of pure gold. His breath is in your face as he talks, and there’s comfort in the air it penetrates.

“I only powered through this because of you. I hope you know that.” He’s smiling. 

“Girlfriend duties,” you quote solemnly. 

“I mean it. I knew I was walking into disaster with how this stupid job was going, all that work was just a distraction. I didn’t wanna believe this was a bad idea. And then you walked in.”

You cup his face and pout, “Oh, my damsel in distress.”

“Hm, my knight in shining armour,” he giggles. “Galloped in and saved me from myself.”

“You saved me too. From the world and its horrible creations.” 

“I’ll start talking in formulas if this keeps up.” 

You can only grumble in mild annoyance. 

“I’m glad I asked you to come in early that day,” he says.

“I’m glad I was a good samaritan and gathered all your stuff that day.” You grin.

Mingyu leans in and kisses you. It’s soft, slow, and drips of the romance he’s trying to bring into the conversation. His lips are bliss, the feeling of him is bliss. 

It’s almost scary how easily you’ve been able to give yourself to him. How quickly he’s placed himself in every nook and cranny of your heart. With his tired eyes and stronger than himself smile, the hand he extended in ways beyond you could ever explain to him. It’s terrifying when you realise what remains on the tip of your tongue, ready and bursting. 

But it’s true, and you can only pray it remains that way. Because in that moment, naked and tangled between Mingyu’s limbs, his heart in your ears, your hands on his being, you just know. 

“I think I might love you too.” 

[azulpitlane]

vicious I ln4

pairing: lando norris x reader, a little of charles leclerc x reader🫣 summary: lando's fans always attack you yet he does nothing to defend you, inspired by vicious by sabrina carpenter notes: if youre the anon that requested this sorry it took so long lol! but you were so sweet ty masterlist, part two

yourusername

liked by maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc and 1,829,392 others

yourusername lil getaway

view all comments

user wait is she dating lando??

user there's been rumors of them dating for months but neither of them have confirmed user hopefully not lol

user i had no idea she went on this trip

user yeah cause lando never posts her or even likes her posts lmfaoaofda

user am i the only one that finds her annoying...

user nooo everyone else does lol shes always leeching off lando

yourbff ur perfect babe liked by yourusername

user pls dont let this be a hard launch🧎‍♀️lando get UP

user of course she has to post lando🤣she needs him for the likes

maxfewtrell spent more time on the ground than actually skiing

yourusername SHHHH it was my first time

user why are all these comments about lando?? im only looking at her😍

f1gossip

302,837 likes

f1gossip Y/n Y/l/n spotted in Bali celebrating New Years at Martin Garrix's show, possibly with Lando Norris. The two have sparked dating rumors for a few months now but no confirmation has been made from either of them.

view all comments

user we might have to start accepting that theyre dating☹️

user I REFUSE

user wait im new to the fandom, whys everyone hating on y/n i love her music...

user shes always posting lando for attention and he clearly has no interest in her, he doesnt even like her posts user plus his ex >>>>>>> y/n

user she doesnt deserve him, he needs someone lowkey and y/n is such an attention whore

user not surprised shes there, always leeching on him

user right like girl give him space, he aint yours

user im a y/n defender idgaf. everyone in these comments are just jealous liked by yourbff

user yikes... user defending someone who needs a man to stay relevant lol ok

user i miss luisinha😭

user im convinced theyre still dating and shes using lando for pr

y/n hey lan, i safely made it back to the hotel

lando 👍

y/n i still dont understand why you wanted me to leave early though, its not even midnight :(

lando y/n, we talked about this. there was lots of paparazzi there and if they saw us together on midnight they would think we're dating

y/n we ARE dating... why are you acting like we arent?

lando yk what i meant im just trying to protect you from the craziness that comes from dating me baby

y/n im already getting hate, hows hiding me any different?

lando lets just not do this tn. yk how much worse its gonna get it if we confirm anything listen i love you, isnt that enough?

y/n yeah, ily too

lando ill see you later tn❤️

lando baby where are you? come on it was a drunk mistake, yk i only love you it was just martins friend, you know her

y/n oh the girl you told me not to worry about?

lando it didnt mean anything why are you acting like this?

y/n because you fucking cheated. im leaving and im moving out of the apartment

lando please dont, im sorry baby i love you

y/n you say you love me but you can never prove it you hid me away for a whole year, was it so you could hook up with other girls?

lando of course not wth but since there's clearly no trust in this relationship maybe we should end it i wish you the best y/n read

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pietrapilao and 3,295,203 others

yourusername new year same me, wasnt ever the problem

view all comments

yourbff YES WIFEY liked by yourusername

user she unfollowed lando omg.

user WAR IS OVERRRR

pietrapilao out of sight out of mind🧘‍♀️ liked by yourusername

user is this about lando omg...

luisinhaoliveira99 😍😍 liked by yourusername

user ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??? user WHEN DID THEY MEET??? user I NEED THE TEA RNNNNNN

charles_leclerc 🖤

user OH?

user what is going on in these comments omg??

user shes finally realized lando will never date a girl like her

user hahaha fr she finally deleted all her posts with him user probably gonna go for piastri now🤣

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,294,234 others

yourusername took some time off music but dont worry, im back and ready to prove i dont need anybody to stay successful

vicious is out now💌

view all comments

user OH NOWWW LANDO LIKES HER POST

yourbff sooo back baby

user this has to be about lando...

user the lyrics are heartbreaking omg

user you all owe her a big apology for the way you treated her

charles_leclerc you look good in red this comment has been deleted

charles_leclerc love it! this comment has been deleted

charles_leclerc congrats on the new song!!

taylorswift 💌❤️

user yall better not start switching up!! if you were hating on her, stay away

user are we just going to ignore charles' deleted comments??

user bro was NERVOUS

user we dont know if this is about lando!! they were just friends

user you toxic lando fans need to stay away🙄 she was never seen with anyone else this past year so its clearly about him. hes not some saint you paint him out to be user exactly!! you guys are acting like you know him

user her shirt saying loyal🫣thats gotta be a diss

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, martingarrix and 630,402 others

landonorris pretty vicious life im living rn

view all comments

user the caption??? the hard launch??? oh thats not-

maxfewtrell bro. no.

user his own best friend doesnt approve of his behavior😬

user this winter break drama is something else

user lando i cant keep defending you. why would you caption it this.

user IS THAT NEW YEARS KISS GIRL ON THE THIRD SLIDE???

user yess i found her @ shes martin garrix's friend and she was at that party

user anyone else notice luisa unfollowed him??

user she chose her side HAAHAH user pretty ironic cause so many fans were comparing y/n to her and now theyre friends🤣

user whys everyone mad?? its his private life why do you guys care

user oh so now you guys are giving him privacy?? but when he was rumored to be with y/n you were hating...the hypocrisy

yourbff alexa play obsessed by mariah carey🥱

user OOP user the girls are fightingggg

user not even a y/n fan but this was a bit unnecessary...

user "you dont feel remorse, you dont feel the effects" 🫠

f1gossip

240,520 likes

f1gossip Despite hard launching their relationship just one week ago, Lando's new girlfriend has been spotted getting cozy with a different guy! The leaked pictures have already caused for her to go private on all social medias😬

view all comments

user karma is A GOD

user i know y/n is having a good day today

user omfg poor lando :(

user womp womp

user i bet he is regretting his decisions rn😭

user y/n nation won today, ln4 nation taking L after L

user we cant catch a break😩

user WHAT IS GOING ON WITH LANDO RN

user craziest winter break yet jeez

Instagram Messages

charles_leclerc hey y/n! i know we havent spoken much but ive seen how lando treated you the few times you were at races and i apologize for never speaking on it i just wanted to tell you you're a great person and your music is so amazing if you ever need anything please just shoot me a text!

landonorris y/n you blocked my number? im sorry about everything baby can we please just talk?

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 4,204,214 others

yourusername im soooo sorry for your loss😊

my new single feather is out now!! special thanks to @charles_leclerc for helping me out in the music video, had so much making it <3

view all comments

user this mv was so hot omg

user I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS BUT I LOVE

user i know a certain someone is FUMING

luisinhaoliveira99 on repeat already!!

yourusername 💋💋 user im convinced luisa reached out after she saw all the comparisons with her and y/n and they became besties user wait that makes so much sense

user f1 twitter is going insane rn

user Y/N NATION KEEPS WINNING

pietra.pilao AHH youre so talented bby liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc had the best time on set with you❤️

yourusername ❤️ user i ship it........

user i want them both

user ofc now shes going for another driver🙄

user oh you guys are OBSESSED with her, get a job user y/n still has them mad LOL

user l**** would never agree to anything like this

user im literally never getting over this, ive watched it 5 times in a row already

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 940,240 others

landonorris a toast to my real friends

view all comments

user if this is a charles sneak diss i will cry

user we got carlando content....but at what price

user oh he definitely got blocked by y/n😭

user dw we're on your side lando

user who is we?

user just take the L and move on bro

user the way 2 songs got everyone to switch up on lando HAHA

user not just that but his shady posts too

charles_leclerc posted a story

Replies

user the girls are OFFICIALLY fighting oh gosh

user next season is going to be interesting...

user my roman empire

user IS THIS A HARD LAUNCH???

user what is happening.

user PARENTS

[lexirosewrites]

I DONT KNOW HOW SLICK SUNDAYS WORK I JUST SEE THESE AND USUALLY LOVE THEM PLEASE IGNORE THIS IF ITS WRONG IM SORRY

Steve who thinks he’s a beta because the upside down shit started around the time he was supposed to present so it’s not until five years AFTER they defeat vecna that Steve presents as an omega, but instead of being able to be excited about his presentation he’s absolutely horrified because he’s been dating Eddie since they cleared him of the murder charges five years ago and Eddie, an alpha, ever since highschool has been very strictly a beta only man.

Steve spends the little of his heat that he’s lucid losing his goddamn mind, crying and sobbing until he passed out, throwing up multiple times, because Steve has always felt like he was unloved and never enough and he had only just gotten to the point where he felt like Eddie truly cared about him, but Eddie is very passionate about only dating betas, giving lists upon lists of reasons why he wouldn’t be able to date an omega.

and now Steve is an omega, which means he’s going to lose Eddie.

Steve, who’s always felt like he is not enough, can’t even be enough to keep the man he’s been mutually courting for five years who he’s been working up the courage to ask to mate with him. That’s how serious they are. Eddie is all Steve has left.

All the kids are in college or working on their careers out of state, Robin’s been in Italy for two years and those calls are expensive so he hasn’t been able to talk to his platonic soulmate and he can’t afford to call at this time of the month, his parents haven’t contacted him in over three years, all the Adults are off retiring in California living off their government hush money, all Steve has left is Eddie and now he doesn’t even have him because Eddie always says he could never love an omega. And Steve starts to wonder if Eddie ever loved him, seeing how strongly he was against dating exactly what Steve was, what if Eddie knew all along deep in his subconscious and never actually loved him the way Steve loved him?

Stricken with grief and early onset isolation sickness, Steve finishes his miserable first heat, and in the middle of a drop, packs all his things, and leaves Hawkins in the dead of night.

Cue a frantic Eddie trying to contact everyone in the party because his beloved boyfriend has mysteriously gone missing with no note and the police won’t do anything because all Steve’s things are gone too,

Eddie who’s only ever had a crush on one person, and it’s Steve Harrington, who’s always been a beta, so Eddie’s never even been able to imagine being with any other designation.

Eddie, who might be a little too passionate about wanting to be with a beta because he keeps getting comments about how an alpha should ‘never settle’ for a beta and Eddie wants Steve to know Eddie is not settling for him, but actually wouldn’t give a shit what Steve’s designation is as long as it’s Steve.

Steve ends up moving to some city in Colorado and working at a youth center, who only gets the job because most omegas won’t work there, so many of the teens are violent, especially towards omegas, but Steve was raised to be an alpha, then turned beta, and then fought monsters during his formative years, so after three scraps with angry teen alphas who don’t want an omega supervising them, where Steve clearly wins and shows dominance, all other teens respect him and start respecting omegas as a whole.

it kind of goes around town that Steve is a safe space, and Steve adopts a new band of kids and it doesn’t stop the chronic rejection sickness he got diagnosed with but it curbs the isolation sickness (he has to take hormonal medication to trick his body into thinking he wasnt rejected but it only kind of helps) , and at first Steve wants to reject his omega ness because he associated it with losing Eddie but the kids need a positive omega influence and Steve only sees his worth in his ability to sacrifice his comfort for others so all Steve does is take suppressants for his heat because he’s traumatized from how painful the first one is. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get to experience the joys of a heat he always heard about. He swears off of dating and rejects every alpha and beta who asks him out, though he does get with one omega briefly in a moment of weakness, mainly because he had long curly brown hair and he ranted to Steve about metallica for a full twenty minutes behind an omega-only bar.

Back in Hawkins Eddie has more then half the gang in his trailer as Eleven, fresh off a flight from the Himalayas, desperately tries to use her powers to find Steve, but she’s looking for a beta energy so when she briefly passes by an omega one she ignores it,

So the party knows Steve is missing and they’re all collectively losing their shit, Dustin ends up calling Suzie on the cerebro but she’s looking through beta documents so she never finds him either, it ends up taking an entire year and a half for them to exhaust all their options and for Owens to get back to them, Robin’s convinced the Russians took him, and Owens starts a manhunt in Russia that remains futile.

Almost two years in, Owens is finally able to track Steve down and tells the party that it wouldn’t have taken that long if they hadn’t lied about Steve’s designation, and that’s how the party finds out Steve’s an omega.

and Eddie, who knows Steve’s insecurities very well, realizes very very quickly just why Steve has left, and his stomach drops to the floor and Eddie himself goes into an alpha drop because of how terribly he feels, knowing that Steve in his most vulnerable moments was so convinced Eddie wouldn’t love him as an omega that he left his home, and hashes a plan with Robin to fly out to Steve and try to win him back.

LA dee da apparently some of the alpha teens Steve semi adopted are super protective of him bc theres a REASON they spend all their time at the center and not home, and they know vaguely that Steve was courting someone who wouldn't want him as an omega so when Eddie finds Steve he has to win the kids over before they even let him see Steve, and Steve freaks out the first time, locks himself in the janitors closet, and has a breakdown so the teens kick Eddie out and it takes like four weeks for Steve to be able to look at Eddie long enough for him to explain that he loves Steve no matter what and then they get mated THAT NIGHT because like fuck is posessive eddie going to let steve out of his sight again, it takes a few years for steve to feel comfortable allowing himself to have heats and the first few are too trauma riddled to be comfortable but then eventually he works through it

you did Slick Sunday exactly right!!

(slick Sunday is just a celebration every week where I post/repost a bunch of omegaverse stuff and reply to asks that people submit. steddie ficlets like this are more than welcome as submissions!)

ahhhh the angst here is delicious😭😭😭

[dambaepuff]

hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance

REGRETS (m)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship

Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting

Word count: 5k

Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it

A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)

Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.

Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.

‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’

Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.

A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.

“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.

“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”

Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.

He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?

He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”

As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.

Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.

You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.

Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’

As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”

It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.

Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.

Yang Sunhee

Sent a message

“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.

Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?

“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.

“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.

“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.

Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.

“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.

“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”

Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.

“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.

“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.

“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”

“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.

Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.

One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?

He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.

Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.

He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.

“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.

Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.

He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.

“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.

“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.

“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.

Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.

“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.

As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”

[megalony]

Buck Jr

This is an Evan Buckley (Buck) request from anon, thank you for this I had so much fun with this. All the requests have been great, any other 911 requests would be great.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: When the team get called out to a car crash pile up on the motorway, they find Buck and his heavily pregnant wife in the middle of the crash.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Just one more month left," Evan glanced his eyes away from the red light ahead of him and over to (Y/n) perched in the passenger seat.

Despite the calmness in his voice, (Y/n) could see the way he was almost bubbling over with anticipation just thinking about it. She could see the way his hands gripped the steering wheel that little bit tighter and he couldn't help but bounce in his seat like a child waiting for Christmas to arrive.

There was only just over five weeks left and then Evan would be able to meet his baby. He couldn't wait; time seemed to have dragged out and gone so slow since they found out they were expecting and he was ready to have his baby in his arms now. Evan loved how his wife looked while she was pregnant, but despite how good and appealing she looked to him, his arms were craving to hold his baby and he was so pumped and ready to be a dad.

"So, where are you putting this picture, baby?" (Y/n) looked down at the photos in her hands before she glanced over at Evan again just as the lights turned green.

During the pregnancy, Evan had made sure he was at each and every appointment (Y/n) had. One time he got the team to drop him off in the truck, all dressed in his uniform just so he could be there to hold (Y/n)'s hand and see his baby on screen.

And each time they had gone to a scan, Evan had collected all the photos and displayed them in various places. He had one in his locker at the station, one on the fridge at home and another one in his wallet. He didn't have much more room to fit another photo in and (Y/n) dared not think what he would be like once their baby was born and he had actual photos of them. There would be a mess of pictures flying everywhere.

"I don't know, I'll find some room in my wallet I think."

(Y/n) nodded along and moved to put the pictures in her bag that rested between her feet. She had been staring at them for long enough, it was time to put them away before Evan reached out and snatched them from her. He was protective over the photos, he loved showing them off but begrudged giving Maddie one for her fridge.

"What do you say we stop somewhere for dinner? I've got the whole day off after all." Evan reached his free hand out until his fingers could smooth over (Y/n)'s stomach. It was hard to keep his eyes on the road when all he wanted to do was sit and stare at his wife until the sun went down and the moon came up.

"Sounds lovely, baby."

He had been working a lot of shifts recently and the team had been great in swapping a few shifts around so he could be home with (Y/n) when she wasn't feeling well and when she had her appointments. Eddie had even covered one of his shifts in the early stages of (Y/n)'s pregnancy when she rang Evan at the station, crying and gasping that she had thrown up so much she passed out and felt too weak to move. Eddie covered for him so he could go home and take her to the hospital and then stay with her when she was admitted in for the night.

Evan was putting in more shifts to make up for the time off Bobby had already agreed to and secured off for him next month ready for the baby.

Going out for something to eat sounded like a good idea, they had been trying to do more things together recently before the baby arrives.

Evan couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips and he started to feather his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s stomach for a few moments until he finally let go to hold the wheel again.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) straightened up to click her spine into place before she reached across and turned up the volume on the radio. She had no idea where Evan had decided to go for dinner but she knew he had somewhere in mind when he switched into the outside lane and deliberately missed their turn off that would have taken them the short way home.

With a smile, (Y/n) rubbed her hand up and down Evan's thigh as she slouched back in her seat but her fingers tightened around his leg when she looked out the window and saw a car speeding past them in the inside lane. The dark rouge car flew ahead of them in the other lane but in a split second, the driver swerved across in front of them where there was barely any room to squeeze between Evan and the car in front.

"Fucking hell!"

Evan slammed his foot on the break but his left arm automatically reached out and planted across (Y/n)'s chest, pushing her back into the seat like an additional seatbelt when they both lurched forward.

He kept his arm pinned to her chest until he could release the break and they weren't in danger of crashing.

"Idiot! What the fuck was he doing?" He thrashed his fist on the horn before going back to gripping the steering wheel, ignoring the shaking that set in through his system. "You alright babe?" He didn't want to take his eyes away from the car in front but he had to sneak two then three glances at (Y/n) to calm his mind down and reassure himself she was alright.

(Y/n) kept one hand curled around the door handle and her other hand moved to her chest when it felt like her heart was about to break free of her ribs but she managed to nod her head and whisper a small 'okay'. She didn't want Evan to worry, he had to focus on the idiot in front of them in case he swerved into another lane or caused an accident.

Evan clicked the indicator and moved back into the other lane, he didn't want to be close to the other car.

But moving lanes didn't make a difference.

"You sure you're okay babe? I think I might-"

The horrid sound of metal clashing and colliding broke Evan's speech and he felt the steering wheel jutter beneath his fingertips when he slammed the breaks so fast and harsh that the tyres started to smoke. He couldn't keep the car going straight, as soon as he slowed down the wheels spun out and the car was turning just as they felt another car crashing into the back of them.

The speeding car in front had crashed into the middle barrier and backfired into the line of traffic and their car was next to collide into the growing pile.

A burning scream ricketed against (Y/n)'s throat and teeth and her eyes slammed closed. She could feel her body tensing and pulling inwards and she scraped her shoes down against the floor to try and steady herself and push back in the seat. Her hand tightened around the door handle and her free hand reached out to hold the dashboard when she heard Evan make a noise between a growl and a scream.

Her head collided with the window and the shock caused static to pound through her ears. Nothing but white noise filtered through (Y/n)'s head and she couldn't concentrate or feel anything but the way the car was shaking and how every muscle tensed to the point they were going to snap.

Evan's head thrashed between the steering wheel, the window and the headrest like a pinball and when he hit the wheel for a second time, he blacked out.

A choked cough bubbled past Evan's lips that made his lungs wheeze and burned the back of his throat.

What happened? Where was he? What was he doing?

The moment he opened his eyes, his head started to pound and ache like someone was hitting him with a hammer. All he could see was the black leather steering wheel and he realised it was smushed against the right side of his face. His neck burned when he lifted his head and slowly tilted himself back so he was sitting upright in the chair with his head lolled back on the headrest.

His right arm was tingling and his fingertips felt like they were turning numb and when he looked down, he realised his lower arm and wrist had been trapped between the side of the chair and the door that had been caved in.

"Oow, fuck…" He hissed gruffly as he slowly wrenched his arm free, earning a large scrape of skin to peel back and slowly trickle blood down to his fingers. But he could still bend his wrist and move his fingers, it didn't feel broken; thankfully.

He dared to move a hand over his chest, wincing and stiffening when he felt at least two broken ribs on the lower right side.

Evan let his head loll to the left but felt his heart rocket up into his throat and choke him when he remembered where he was and what he had been doing. They were going out. They were on their way back from a scan.

(Y/n) was with him.

Oh God, she was in the car with him.

A quiet sob bubbled past Evan's lips and he could feel tears burning up in his eyes when he looked at his wife.

"Babe… baby look at me," Evan flung the seatbelt off so harshly it snapped against the window and backfired against his shoulder but he paid it no mind. His eyes were trained on his wife. She was doubled over, arms bound around her waist and forehead leaned down on the dashboard but he knew she wasn't unconscious. He could see her subtly shaking and hear the little murmurs and groans leaving her lips.

Reaching out, he carefully slipped his hand between her forehead and the dashboard and with his other hand on her lower back, he tried to get her to sit up. He needed to look her over and see if she had any injuries.

"Evan…" (Y/n) reached her hand up to grab his wrist when his hand moved down from her forehead to cup her cheek.

"I'm here, I'm okay. Are you alright, let me look at you." Both his hands moved to skim over her frame and see if he could find any injuries.

He could see she had a gash on her forehead, much like the one he knew he had on his temple since he could feel the blood dripping across his brow. But he couldn't see any cuts or patches of blood seeping through her clothes which was a relief. There was no broken glass or jagged pieces of metal sticking out near her.

"My knee a-and my stomach hurt," (Y/n) didn't dare look Evan in the eye but she could feel the way his hands started to shake and hovered near her stomach. He was desperate to touch her but too afraid in case he hurt her or there was something wrong with the baby.

They had been thrown about in all directions, they were lucky the car hadn't turned upside down in the crash but Evan sure felt like he had gone too many rounds on the waltzers. He didn't dare think what it would be like for their baby or what could have happened to them.

"Okay, I… just try not to move,"

Evan desperately looked through the windshield and in the rar view mirror but there was nothing he could do. They were jammed in an increasing patch of cars and they would be backed up for miles in a matter of minutes. He couldn't get them out and they were on the motorway, he couldn't swerve into the next lane and get out and drive them back to the hospital.

But he could feel a small bubble of relief in his chest when he looked at the dash screen. His phone was connected up to the car and it was set up so that if he ever had a crash- just like this- his phone would alert the emergency services. He didn't have to dial 911, they would know already and he knew countless people would be ringing because there was a crash that was inconveniencing them and their day.

"The team will get us out babe, I promise. You just take deep breaths, I've got you until they get here."

His words settled down one of the thousands of (Y/n)'s petrified nerves and she inched forward so rest her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms curve around her waist and start to smooth up and down her back before he kissed the top of her head, keeping his lips there for a while to calm himself down.

They were both shaking and Evan could feel (Y/n)'s silent tears soaking into his shirt so he started to quietly shush her and hum into her hair to see if it would help calm her down. Panicking wouldn't do them any good.

Evan moved one hand to hold the back of (Y/n)'s head and he tilted his head to press his cheek into her hair which also allowed him to look out the broken windscreen. People were starting to get out their cars and move about, that was a good sign. Anyone relatively uninjured could get out and direct the emergency services to those more in need.

If Evan had been alone in the car he would have been out by now and scanning through the other cars to try and find anyone he could help and look after.

But he had (Y/n) with him.

There was no way Evan was getting out the car and leaving her in here alone when she was heavily pregnant and in shock. He wasn't budging an inch away from her. Today, he was off duty. He wasn't the emergency services, he wasn't a fireman helping rescue people, he was one of the civilians who needed help.

"Evan, it hurts." (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed and smothered her face deeper into his shoulder as her hands came up to clench around his shirt.

It felt like her stomach was pulsing and throbbing and she didn't like it at all. She had never felt discomfort like this before and she knew she had been tossed around side to side when the car spun.

"I know baby," Moving his hand from (Y/n)'s hair, Evan slipped his aching arm between them and tried to apply pressure to different parts of her stomach. She wasn't whimpering or flinching like her stomach was tender and he could feel some sort of movement which had to be a good sign but other than that, he wasn't sure what he could do or interpret.

Evan flinched when (Y/n) cried into his shirt and she gripped his hand tight, moving his palm lower down to where the sudden burst of pain had come from.

"You're doing so good, just keep breathing through it and stay calm just for a bit longer baby." He leaned back a little to allow (Y/n) to fold over and bury her face in his legs instead, one hand gripping his thigh and the other holding her stomach as she went back to quiet whimpers. And Evan curled around her, kissing her head and smoothing his hands over her lower back as he started to cry too.

"Oh God, Evan… oow Evan!"

(Y/n) gripped Evan's thighs so tightly he could feel her nails pinching into his skin before he held her shoulders and pulled her back up so he could look at her. But when their eyes met, he saw utter fright hiding in her blown pupils and her hands moved to his biceps. Such a horrid howling noise left her lips that made Evan flinch and his jaw dropped but nothing came out. What had happened?

"What? Baby, what is it?"

"My waters… I- I think the baby's coming," (Y/n) moaned through her words and she could barely see her husband from the tears spilling down her face.

She watched his big doe eyes flip from her, down to her legs where a sudden gushing feeling had errupted all over the seat, and then back up to her eyes again.

"Fuck, fuck! Okay, uh… right." Leaning forward, Evan carefully moved (Y/n) back so she was leaning against the chair and he unbuckled her belt. Relief sweltered through him when he jammed his shoulder into his door and it swung open fairly easily. "I'm gonna look if anyone's arrived yet, then I'll move you into the back, okay?"

"Hm." (Y/n) nodded but she couldn't look at him any longer when another pain rippled through her. She tipped her chin down into her chest and breathed through clenched teeth.

Evan didn't like what he saw when he climbed out the car. At least six other cars were banged up and collided in front of them, including the red car that had cut him off earlier. And when he turned and pushed up on his toes to look behind his own car, another half a dozen cars had crashed and beyond them, everyone had come to a stand still.

The only good thing Evan could see was that there was a hard shoulder down his side of the road that was clear. The team and the ambulances could get down there and reach them without having to cut off the other side of the road or make a rounded approach. It was easy access to the crash site which was what he needed to get (Y/n) help.

He realised he had hurt his ankle when he rounded the front of the car and a red hot shooting pain creeped up the back of his left ankle. It wasn't broken, he knew that but it might be sprained or a muscle snapped, whatever it was he ignored it. (Y/n) was the only thing he could think about.

Nothing had hit the front passenger door which was a relief because Evan managed to open it with ease and he leaned back and opened the back door too. If she was going to have the baby here, depending on how long help took to arrive, he needed her in the back seat. It would be too hard to try and crouch down in the footwell and deliver his baby.

God, Evan might have to deliver his own baby!

"Alright baby, let's get you in the back."

Crouching down in front of her, Evan gently held her legs and turned her round until her feet were dangling down between his legs. He let her dig her fingertips into his shoulders when he secured his arms around her waist and slowly pulled her up, taking her weight when he felt her knees cave in immediately.

"I got you, you're okay," He reassured, speaking into her hair as he slowly started to shuffle away from the door and towards the back seat instead.

(Y/n) buried her face in Evan's shoulder and let him slowly ease her back until his hips brushed against hers and his legs were planted either side of her thighs, caging her beneath him. He lowered her down onto the back seat and effortlessly took her weight again to shuffle her further into the back.

She tried to tilt a little and leaned her back up against the seat, reaching across to brush her thumb against Evan's lower lip for a moment when he hovered over her to grab his jacket that he'd left there earlier.

"Alright babe, let's take a look at you. Good job I've done this with Cap before."

***

"Alright, you all know the drill. Major pile up in the middle of the freeway, if anyone can walk for help direct them to the paramedics. Shout out if you need to cut someone out the car, find anyone stuck and get them free. Chimney you're with me, Eddie go with Hen."

Bobby strapped on his helmet and nodded at his team but his eyes frowned when he looked over at Eddie.

They had parked up on the hard shoulder a few feet away from the crash since the ambulances needed to get round and them be closer to the scene so they could drive ahead and get out of the mess.

"Eddie, what's up?"

"Cap, the blue ford…" Something stirred in Eddie's chest and his fingers curled tighter around his helmet in his hand when he scanned his eyes over the mess. Right off to the right near the middle barrier was a navy blue ford that looked beat up and bashed about, but Eddie knew who drove a car exactly like that and he knew said person wasn't on shift today.

This was the direction away from the hospital where Eddie knew Buck had gone to this morning, he hadn't been able to talk about anything else except how excited he was to have a day off and be with (Y/n).

"What about it?"

"It's Buck!" Eddie dropped his helmet and set off into a sprint the moment he saw a familiar crop of sandy curls come into view when the tall figure stood up next to the car. It was Buck, he could tell it was him from a mile off. He was in the middle of the mess.

Eddie could hear Bobby shouting something through the throng of sirens and panicked cries but he didn't bother trying to make out what he said. And he knew Hen was following close behind him but he didn't slow down to wait for her. If Buck was here trapped in all this then that meant (Y/n) was here too. A pregnant woman in a car crash was never a good thing.

"Buck! Hey, Buck we're here mate! We're here." He waved his arm out to signal his arrival and shuffled the medic bag higher on his other shoulder when he got close and weaved through to Buck's car.

Something rattled in Eddie's chest when he watched Buck pull his shirt over his head and wipe it across his brow before he went back to kneel down in front of the open back seat. What the Hell was he doing? Was he injured- God, was (Y/n) injured? How long had they been here without help?

He barely reached the before Evan spun his upper body round and grabbed Eddie's wrist with what could only be described as desperation.

"The baby's coming!"

Evan was more relieved than he could say that he had been on a few callouts over the years and witnessed women giving birth. It meant he knew roughly what he was expecting and what he was supposed to do to help until someone could get them to the hospital.

He had laid his jacket out on the backseat but the baby was coming now and he had nothing but his shirt to take off so when the baby was here, he had something to wrap them up in and keep his newborn warm.

"Hen, (Y/n)'s in labour over here! Alright (Y/n), how you doing?" Eddie slung the medic bag onto the floor and knelt down beside Evan on the road but when Hen approached, (Y/n) shook her head.

"No one else! I- I don't want anyone else, please…"

"Okay baby, just me and Eddie that's okay." Evan turned to look over at Hen, apologies already burning in his eyes and forming on his tongue but she held her hands out and started moving towards the next car. Hen could understand (Y/n) not wanting a big scene, she wasn't comfortable in this situation and too many people surrounding her was only going to make her feel worse.

"We can handle this, can't we Buck? Did your waters break?"

"Yeah, and she's already started pushing," Evan rested his hand on (Y/n)'s knee when she didn't bother to respond. She couldn't find anything to say when another contraction hit, all she could do was cry and grit her teeth until they were grating down together.

"You work fast, eh?" With a smile, Eddie snapped on a pair of gloves but he stopped and waited when (Y/n) started to move. He could see she wasn't the least bit comfy or relaxed back here and it was understandable, but they didn't have time to move her when she was already so close and giving birth in a stationary car was preferable to a moving ambulance. "Any injuries we need to take care of?"

Pushing forward, (Y/n) wrapped her left arm around the back of the headrest and pulled herself forward so she was sitting up as much as she could, (Y/n) didn't want to slouch back any longer. She tucked her face into the headrest like she was trying to smother herself and with her free hand, (Y/n) reached down and pulled Evan's hand tight until she could hold it up against her chest.

Something close to a smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she felt him move and kiss her thigh.

"Y-your arm," (Y/n)'s voice was barely more than a whisper but when she cracked an eye open to look at her husband, he was shaking his head with pursed lips.

"It'll wait," Evan couldn't even feel his arm anymore. The skin was still loose and scraped back but it didn't matter, the adrenaline was so fast and consistent in his body that it numbed everything. His arm would be fine until they got to the hospital, he just wanted his baby in his arms and his wife to be alright.

"God, Evan please… fuck, can I push again?"

When (Y/n) tugged on his arm again, Evan got the hint and bypassed Eddie, climbing into the footwell that didn't fit his large frame very well. He leaned his weight onto his knees that pushed into the chair and curved his frame around (Y/n) so his chest was against her shoulder and he could kiss her temple. She kept tight hold of his hand that was still smothered against her chest so his arm was wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

"You keep pushing you're doing great, I can see the head already."

(Y/n) let her head fall back onto Evan's shoulder and she moved to kiss his neck and she had to hold back the urge to bite down and give him a dark bruise when the pain made her jaw clench. But Evan didn't even shiver or jolt against her when she screamed into his neck, he soaked up the sound and instead started to hum against her hair, letting her deadlock her fingers around his wrist that had gone numb a while back.

"…And the head's here," The smile that lit up Eddie's face made a knot in (Y/n)'s stomach slowly untangle. He didn't look panicked or overly concerned or like he was trying to take control of a bad situation, he was relaxing and it made (Y/n) feel more at ease.

She could feel Evan laughing into her hair, the feeling rumbled through his bare chest and vibrated through (Y/n)'s skin and he just had to lean forward to get a look.

"Another c…contraction,"

"Keep pushing baby, you're doing so great, I can't wait to have them in my arms."

Evan leaned forward when (Y/n) did the same and he kept his chest smothered against her back but he just couldn't resist from getting closer. He kept his left arm secured around (Y/n)'s lower waist but he reached his right hand down to see and touch the baby.

"Alright (Y/n) you're so close now, push again for me… Buck get ready." Eddie grabbed Buck's shirt that was laid in the footwell and nodded up at his friend to signal it was almost time.

(Y/n) tightened her left arm around the headrest to keep her weight up and moved her right hand to hold onto Evan's bicep, allowing him to lean around her because she knew what he was desperate for. He wanted to hold their baby the moment they were born and Eddie could see it too.

With a final scream and a blinding pain that sent spots dancing across her vision, (Y/n) slumped against the seat as Evan doubled over and stretched his arms out like he was reaching for the sun.

"Here he is! Buck Jr," Eddie laughed triumphantly, swaddling the baby boy in his dad's shirt before he slowly handed the bundle up to Evan who had tears trecking down his face.

Evan stayed doubled over with his abdomen resting on his knees and his arms outstretched towards Eddie. He didn't dare move an inch until Eddie had clamped and cut the cord, he couldn't pull back without it being cut unless he wanted to risk pulling on the placenta and harm (Y/n) in the process. But once the cord was safety cut off, Evan stretched back up and shakily tilted his boy around so he was laid on his bare chest.

He was a mix of soft blushing pink and the lightest shade of orange, covered in a protective layer of white fluid and droplets of blood, but he was perfect. It was mesmerising how Evan's large hand covered almost the whole spa of his boy's back when he patted to make sure he was crying properly and his airways were clear.

"God, he's beautiful." Turning to the side, Evan leaned over so (Y/n) could see their boy before he smothered her temple with his lips and felt her trembling hands rub over his jaw and neck.

"Cap, we have Buck Jr safely delivered, do you have an ambulance available?" Eddie spoke into his radio before he wrapped up the placenta and stood to his feet. They needed to get (Y/n) to the hospital to be checked over just to be safe and Buck needed patching up too.

"Well done guys! The second ambulance is all yours, Hen grab the stretcher."

"He's okay, isn't he?" (Y/n) dared to brush a trembling finger across the newborn's cheek but she couldn't help but worry. He had been bashed about a lot and forced into the world a bit earlier than planned. It was a miracle he didn't have the cord wrapped round his neck or some sort of trauma or shock from the abrupt crash.

"They'll check him over at the hospital but he seems just fine, he's a tough cookie. Come on Buck," Eddie flagged him out when he heard Hen approaching fast with a stretcher.

Evan slowly climbed out onto unsteady legs and he could feel his knees wobbling from the adrenaline high that was going to wear off soon. But when he looked between his baby boy and his wife, he slowly turned towards Eddie and carefully slipped the newborn back into his arms.

"I got you babe," He curved his arms beneath (Y/n)'s and shuffled her as carefully as he could to the edge of the seat before he looped his arm beneath her knees. He could feel Eddie hovering beside him and Hen close behind, just in case he wobbled or fell but he didn't need help. He'd picked (Y/n) up a thousand times and despite how many times she told him she was too heavy now she was pregnant, he could carry her like she weighed nothing more than a feather. Even in his rattled state, he could do this blindfolded.

Her arms curved around his neck and she kissed his neck when he carried her out of the car and over to the stretcher Hen had gotten ready for them.

When she was safely on the stretcher, Evan didn't need to say anything for Eddie to pass him back his son. Just the feel of his boy in his arms had Evan grinning like a fool and puffing his chest out like the proud dad he now was.

"Do we have a name for the little guy?"

"Didn't you hear Eddie? Buck Jr."

"Evan no!"

[erwinsvow]

i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!

oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch

your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.

you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.

the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.

you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.

when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.

rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.

"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.

"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"

"i forgot my hair stuff at home."

"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.

"what am i supposed to do with this?"

"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."

"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"

he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.

"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.

"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"

"huh?"

"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.

"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"

"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"

"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."

you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.

"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"

"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"

you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.

"but i wanna look nice for the club."

"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."

"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.

"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."

"sure. whatever you say."

"that's right."

[blueeyedgirll]

shark week surprise - spencer reid x f!reader

spencer reid x f!reader on her period

this fic includes: fluff, descriptions of bad periods and period paraphernalia, spencer being a sweetie pie and doting on you, established relationship, non-bau reader, pet names, early seasons spencer, use of midol, no use of y/n, unrealistic depiction of spencer's job, reader being shorter than spencer

word count: 1,053

a/n: you'll never guess what time of the month it is for me ;) im testing out using gifs on my fics so tell me what you think my lovely returning readers!

"It hurts," you say into your phone.

"I know it does, honey. I'm sorry. I'm sure a heating pad and some medicine can help with your cramps," Spencer responds sympathetically, recalling all of the period remedies he had learned.

"I took some Midol about an hour ago and I have the heating pad on right now. It's not helping much."

"Hmm..." Spencer pauses for a moment. "I've read that light exercise and hot tea or water can help. Are you feeling well enough to talk to the kitchen and make some tea? I think there's still some of the chamomile and honey tea I bought you in the pantry, and the walking might help."

"I should be alright. Will you stay on the phone with me?" you plead.

"Of course I will. Luckily, I'm in my hotel room for the night, so I have as much time as you need."

"Thank you, Spence."

"You're welcome, love."

You hobble to your kitchen, phone in hand, and start to make yourself a cup of chamomile tea.

The few minutes it took for the kettle to boil felt excruciatingly long, but having Spencer on the phone to distract you helped.

"I was reading an article about Spanish idioms, and I saw one I thought you would like," Spencer prompts.

"Yeah? What's that?" You say, leaning against your kitchen counter.

"Well, it literally means 'Thinking about the immortality of the crab,' but it's a way to say that instead of just sitting idly, you were engaged in active thought or daydreaming. Kind of like saying you're just letting your mind wander," Spencer says, his voice growing more excited as he elaborates.

"I think about the immortality of the crab a lot, then," You joke.

"I know. That's why I thought you would like it."

You scoff and bring your now finished cup of tea back into your bedroom, where you had been hibernating amidst every fuzzy blanket you could find.

You pull the heating pad back over your lap and get as cozy as you can with your hellish cramps. As nice as your bedspread may be, however, you know that you would be a lot more comfortable with Spencer cuddled up next to you.

"When are you gonna be back home, Spencer?" You ask.

"Well, we haven't gotten very many good leads, so we're a little stuck right now. It might be a few more days. I'm sorry, honey," He responds apologetically.

"Oh... That's okay. I get it."

You did get it. It wasn't uncommon for Spencer to be gone for days, sometimes a few weeks at a time. But the searing pain and high estrogen levels just made you want him near you even more.

"I'm sorry. You know I would so much rather be taking care of you right now," Spencer follows.

"Ain't no rest for the wicked."

"Exactly." Spencer pauses for a moment, lets out a sigh, and shuffles around in his room. "You should get some rest. You may feel better tomorrow as your hormones decrease."

"I know. I love you, Spence."

"I love you too, darling. I'll see you soon. Hang in there."

"I will. Bye."

You hang up the phone and sigh dramatically. It was only Friday night, and without work to prepare for or Spencer to spend time with, you were forced to entertain yourself for the weekend.

You start by putting on an older show to rewatch, but don't make it through much before you fall into an uncomfortable sleep.

You wake up the next morning to your phone ringing. Rubbing your dry eyes, you pick up your phone and see Spencer's contact flash across your screen. You pick up, clearing your throat before you speak.

"Morning, love."

"It's eleven AM, darling. But good morning to you, too," Spencer responds. In the background of the call, you hear what sounds like a turn signal.

"Whatever. Where are you?"

"I'm in the car," He says uninformatively.

"Okay, then where are you heading?"

"To my destination."

What a turd. You groan in exasperation.

"If it makes you feel better, I have something for you,' Spencer tells you.

"Like what?"

"It should be arriving just about now, actually."

"What do you mean?" You question.

Before you could ask him anything else, you hear a knock at your door.

"Hang on, Spence. Someone's at the door," You say, placing your eye to the peephole.

To your great surprise, you see a tiny image of Spencer smiling outside your door with his phone up to his ear. You fling the door open and affirm that he is, in fact, at your door.

"Spencer!" You exclaim. He greets you as he throws his arms around you, lightly squishing you against his chest.

"I thought you weren't gonna be home for a few more days. What changed?" You ask, pulling away from his embrace to look up into his sweet brown eyes.

"The unsub basically turned himself in, so we all got to go home early. I would have came here earlier, but I had to make a stop," He says, gesturing to his right hand.

You look down to see a shopping bag. He smiles and walks into your living room, urging you to follow.

He slowly unpacks the bag, announcing every item as it appears.

"An array of candy -- fruit flavored as well as chocolate --, electrolyte drinks to keep you hydrated, a new bottle of Midol to help with the pain, and..." Out of a separate bag you hadn't noticed before, he pulls out a bouquet of fresh flowers. "Flowers because I thought you would like them."

He hands you the flowers and you smile up at him before enclosing him in another hug.

"Thank you, Spencer. You're so sweet."

"I'm just trying to make you feel better," He says, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"You're doing great."

He smiles into your hair before pulling away.

"What do you want to do? We can watch movies in bed, I can draw you a bath, we can go for a walk..." He trails off, looking to your for an answer.

"Let's go watch movies. We can find that new one we wanted to watch."

"Sounds good to me, love," He says, following you into the bedroom, snacks in hand.

[xyaehir]

need ur attention asap —

SYP — w characters who i think are actually really clingy (secretly or not)

GEN. — fluff

WARN. — gn!reader, clingy characs, pda, sickening couple activities

REQ. — “do you do carlos madrigal x reader.. if yes, could I get one?? i can’t really find any recent ones now and I love your works! if not, that’s completely fine!!! xx”

NOTES. — im literally so bad at sticking to one character 😭 im glad u love my works, have a good day lovely <33

thinking about having a clingy bf who can’t get enough of ur love <3

ur clingy bf! who can’t stop clinging onto you like a koala.

ur clingy bf! who loves back hugging you and discovering different cuddle positions.

ur clingy bf! who shows up to your door at random times with a bouquet of your fav flowers.

ur clingy bf! who has a secret obsession with the sweet taste of your lips.

ur clingy bf! who encourages you to play the chapstick game, a new excuse to kiss you over and over. (he doesn’t even make an effort to guess the flavour..)

ur clingy bf! who pulls you away at any social event to kiss you breathless.

ur clingy bf! who stares at you with a subtle pout as his friends drag him away to do god knows what.

ur clingy bf! who basically uses his status to go see you instead of doing what he should be.

ur clingy bf! who refuses to remove his arms around you in the morning, leading you to quite literally limp around with him attached to your hip.

ur clingy bf! who tries to act stoic in public but his facade crumbles in 5 minutes and his hands are back on your waist.

ur clingy bf! who has a habit of rubbing your noses together.

ur clingy bf! who carries you all different styles and doesn’t care about your protests.

ur clingy bf! who always cradles your face so gently whenever you’re ranting and just stares at you with heart eyes and a big, silly smile on his lips.

ur clingy bf! who pulls you back to his chest when you get even a centimetre farther from him.

ur clingy bf! who gives you another bottle of his perfume to spray on your clothes so you smell like him when you go out.

ur clingy bf! who’s always there for receiving and giving affection, especially on hard days.

ur clingy bf! who’d rather die than leave the comfort of your arms wrapped around him, his safe place.

ur clingy bf! who loves you so much that he has to remind you how amazing you are literally every 10 minutes.

ur clingy bf! who send you those care-packages every month filled with all of your favourite things, skincare, games, books etc.

ur clingy bf! who always matches with you in real life and in every game you two own. (no such thing as u playing a game that he doesnt play)

ur clingy bf! who’s always loud asf whenever he sees you. (mf sprints to u to give u a hug)

ur clingy bf! who calls you every single term of endearment, even the weirdest ones.

ur clingy bf! who definitely unironically calls you his pookie wookie farting glitter boo boo bear. (he says it so seriously too..)

ur clingy bf! who wont let you pay for anything and spoils you with everything he can get his hands on.

ur clingy bf! who would and will give the world to you.

thinking about having a clingy bf who can’t get enough of u <3

bonus!! —

the sound of the iphone alarm rings throughout the bedroom. a mix of deep, raspy groans and soft whining fill the room, replacing said irritating noise.

you reach to tap the ‘snooze’ button but a hand grabs your arm. he stretches a hand out to hit it instead but missed 5 times before effectively shutting it off. he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your chest.

“babe, get up. you’re too fat, you’re suffocating me.”

“‘s too early to get up, stop squirming,” he reaches a hand up to your face, trying to cover your mouth before you slap it away.

you wriggle in his grasp before stopping, surrendering to his warmth.

“morning, my sweet waffle with honey, maple syrup and berries on top.”

there was a good few seconds of silence to make you realise he’s not joking and genuinely calls you that.

upon imagining the image of waffles in your mind, the idea obviously makes your stomach grumble. you wanted to get up and make some but forgot about the tired guy on your chest.

with a loud groan, you drag him with you out of bed. you can definitely hear his quiet giggles as he brings the blanket with him, perched on his shoulders while you drag him around.

bonus #2!! —

“i got it, i got it!”

“baby, let me pay for it!” you strain out, struggling against his tight embrace. you can feel the vibrations of his chest behind you as he captures your arms in one hand and tries to put the money in the machine with the other.

you squeal when you free your hands from his vice grip and he tickles you to prevent sticking your money in.

“babe, babe stop! i wanna pay, its my turn.”

“i got it, don’t worry. im not gonna let you pay, ill cover it,” he laughs, taking the cash from your hands and slipping it back into your wallet.

at this point, you’re thrashing around in his grasp, not harsh enough to hurt him though. he has his arms hooked under your shoulders to prevent you from moving forward.

“please, let me pay! i got it, its fine!” he protests through his own laughter.

you throw your head back on his shoulder, giggling while trying to free yourself from his grip. he leans downwards and presses several kisses to your face, successfully stopping your movements.

he paid for you again. hey, at least you tried, right?

— (bllk) NAGI, sae, REO (genshin) KAEYA, CHILDE (star rail) gepard, JING YUAN, SAMPO (haikyuu) SUNA, tsuki, KENMA, KUROO (KNY) TANJIRO, AKAZA (ENCANTO) carlos, CAMILO (ATSV) miguel, MILES, PAVITR () YOUR FAVES

@xyaehir 2023. This is my content, inspired or not. Do not translate, copy or plagiarise my works in any way. Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated. <3

[lovelyjj]

Gender Reveal

jj maybank x reader

reader and jj are in their early twenties

wc: 1.1k

a/n: I got this idea from watching gender reveal tiktoks.

When you first found out your were pregnant you were scared. You didn’t know what to think but you knew you weren’t ready to be a mom. You were too young. Then there was the fact that you had to tell your boyfriend JJ.

You were worried what he might think or say. You didn’t want him to be mad at you. But you did have to tell him and you eventually did.

Your period was late but you didn’t think you were pregnant. Then you remember the night you slipped up and didn’t use protection. This caused you to run out and buy a pregnancy test. When you returned home you were shaking.

You peed in a cup and stuck the stick in and silently prayed it was negative. You were also thankful JJ wasn’t home. After you set it on the bathroom counter you waited. After waiting three minutes you shakily flipped up the test.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head, your heart stopped and you felt faint. Positive. Your whole life flashed before your eyes. You with a baby. You bought three tests so you took another test. And another. All three of them were positive.

This is where you broke down crying. You were so overwhelmed you didn’t know what to do. Tears slid down your face as you sobbed. This couldn’t be happening. You were always so careful.

The front door opened and you started to panic. You sucked it up and wiped your tears.

“Baby? Where are you?” JJ called out.

You took a deep breath, “I’m in here!” you yelled.

JJ made his way over to you. Once he reached the bathroom he asked, “Hey, what are you doing in here?”

“Oh um, just blowing my nose,” you sniffed.

“Wait have you been crying?” JJ showed concern.

“Oh um yeah.” JJ noticed your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“There is something I have to tell you.” You took JJ’s arms in your hands and led him into your shared bedroom.

“Sit on the bed please.”

JJ sat down as you paced in front of him. You figured you better tell JJ right away so you can think of your options together. There was no use in hiding it. You also figured there would be no way you could keep this big of a secret.

“Y/N, you’re scaring me.” JJ voiced.

“Ok, I’m just going to say it.”

“You’re killing me.”

“Ok Ok, um Im pregnant.” You blurted out.

“What?” JJ didn’t think he heard you correctly.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Come again?”

“JJ, I’m pregnant.” You let out a laugh of hysteria.

“You- you’re- you’re- pregnant? pregnant pregnant?”

“Yes. Pregnant pregnant,” you responded.

JJ’s face morphed into shock. He couldn’t believe his ears. Now, JJ has always thought about his future with you. He knew you were the one. He always wanted to start a family with you. Not for a few more years but hey he will take it. He couldn’t be happier.

“We’re having a baby?” JJ whispered.

You cracked a smile, “Yeah.”

“We’re having a baby!” JJ shouted and he picked you up and spun you around. He then gave you a passionate kiss on the lips.

“I didn’t think you would be this happy,” you commented.

“I’m ecstatic!”

“I can’t believe it, we are gonna be parents!” JJ said enthusiastically.

“You’re not scared?” You asked.

“I mean of course I am but I know we will be ok. I know you will be a great mother.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” JJ smiled.

“Well I know you’d be an excellent dad,” you stroked a hand through his hair.

JJ’s eyes filled with tears. He was getting choked up. He couldn’t believe he was going to start a family with the love of his life.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Throughout your whole pregnancy JJ has been an angel. Each doctor appointment he was right there with you. He was kind and considerate and always making sure you had everything you needed.

You were far enough along to know the gender of the baby. You decided to have a big reveal party with all your friends and family. Kiara found out the gender and set everything up. She bought the confetti poppers with the correct color and everything.

When you were getting ready for the party you asked JJ, “What do you want a boy or a girl?”

“I just want a healthy baby, I will be happy ether way.”

“Come on tell me what you want,” You pressed.

“A little girl would be nice but a baby boy would be cool too.”

“I think it’s gonna be a girl,” you smiled.

“I just have a feeling.”

JJ put his hand on your bump and his other hand on your waist. “I’m so excited,” he said.

Eventually it was time for the party. All your friends and family were there. The backyard was decorated beautifully. Kiara did an amazing job. There was food and presents and pink and blue everything.

After everyone gathered around the two of you it was time for the gender reveal. There was nerves bubbling inside you as well as anticipation. You and JJ were both holding one confetti rocket.

Then everyone started to count down.

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

You and JJ pulled on the rockets and blue confetti burst out of the tubes. You screamed and JJ engulfed you in a huge hug. Everyone was cheering and clapping for you guys.

“I’m gonna be a boy dad!” JJ shouted.

“I can’t believe we are going to have a son.” You gushed.

Then JJ did something you didn’t expect. He started tearing up.

“Aw baby, it’s ok.” You held his face in your hands and rubbed your thumb under his eye.

“I’m just so happy.” JJ exclaimed.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Later that night you and JJ were laying in bed. JJ was rubbing your stomach as you two were cuddling.

“Did I ever tell you how I think you’re gonna be the best mom ever.” JJ started.

“No but thank you,” you smiled.

“You know we can start buying cute little onesies and things like that,” you thought out loud.

“You bet we can. How you feeling mama?”

“Tired but happy,” you smiled.

With the baby on the way the two of you slipped into a feeling of bliss and happiness. You were both over the moon and lucky to have found each other. You were soulmates and now you were starting a family. Life couldn’t get any better.

[octoberautumnbox]

Yasss, time has come for more Yuri fics, looking forward to a Yuri ult stan :>

Thing with Yuri is, you can never know what to expect next. One moment she's a fluffy puppy cuddling with you then the next she's got you in her grip edging you all day. Just a crazy switch brat. Though that's why I fell hard for her

Enjoy

IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader

Word count: 2882

Categories/warnings: smut, alcohol, implied violence & blood, very slight dubcon, blowjob, handjob, breast play, cowgirl, kiss-and-fuck, only a little bit rough, okay maybe a tiny bit more rough. 

a/n: got way too into the setup im so sorry ill put a marker down there for the actual smut. also big thank you to @iznsfw for the pic ive been looking for this forever. lastly not proofread nor beta’d bc i still haven’t reached out to anyone seriously for writing tips and stuff yet aaaa

Everyone said Yuri was a good person: all sweet-looking, nice to everyone, takes a joke just as well as the next girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to. There was something about her though; you couldn't place exactly what, but you were convinced nobody was that naturally sweet. Something was up with her.

It's a good thing then that she wasn't anyone particularly important. Jo Yuri was just another person that you'd never needed to talk to in the six months since class began. It was easy enough to ignore her, and ignore her you did. 

"You've been cooped up for way too long. Come on, 8 pm. Round of drinks on me if you show. Leave right after if you want. I swear. Just enjoy yourself." Your friend loomed over the table, blocking the light from your copy of 1984. Putting your palm on the top of his head, you closed your grip around a handful of his hair and pulled his head to where your book was sufficiently illuminated. "I'll think about it," you mutter before looking back to the yellowing paper. "Ryujin will be there too." Your friend occupied the seat next to you, rubbing his head where you grabbed. "And her friends. Isa, Minjeong, that cutie from ours you hate so fucking much," he says with a smirk, as if it was the checkmate that would make you drop everything and go. "Didn't take her to be into that type of thing," you say without looking up, "Ryujin, sure, but – what's her name? Yuri? – Feels like she just couldn't say no." He shrugs. "Maybe. What matters in the end is she'll be there, she's single, and she's got a hell of a rack." "Fucking perv. Anyway, I'll think about it." He smirks at you again. "Not because of Yuri, god dammit."

~~~

You shut your laptop and stretch. You rub your eyes for a good minute before wiping away the fatigue to find your clock striking 7. You stare at it, as if intimidating it to go faster and faster to past 8 pm so you wouldn't have to go. Defeatedly, and with regret already seeping into your mind, you get up from your chair and grab a towel. 

~~~

“Hey, long time no fucking see!” Ryujin swings her arm around your shoulders and spills half her drink onto the floor. “Hey, Ryu. Glad to see you're already half-shitfaced this early into the night.” “Fuck you. By the way, meet Isa,” she says as she drags you towards one of the booths. “We've met. Hi, Isa.” She waves and downs a shot of gin. “Who convinced you to come all the way out here?” Isa slams the shot glass onto the wooden table, nearly cracking it and probably denting the wood. “Ah, also shitfaced. I was just free, that's all. Nice to see you again.” She waves again before burying her face in her hands. You drop Ryujin onto an open space in the seats before heading for the bar.

“There he is! Fuck you, man. Stay a little!” Your friend turns around and yells, “Round of drinks on me!” The bar roars with cheers as you take a seat on one of the stools. “Glad you could make it, dude! It’s been forever! Hey, enjoy yourself. See any chicks you like? Maybe enjoy someone else too?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obnoxiously. Thinking he’d be distracted within the next five seconds, you mutter to the bartender an order of a bottle of beer. Just then, you watch as your friend is approached by another guy, talked to a little, and then dragged off in a semi-drunk daze away to some other group. 

“Three margaritas, please.” You turn around to the stool on the other side of you. “Oh, you’re in my class, right? I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Yuri,” she says with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen. The bartender places her three drinks on the counter and pops the cap off your own before setting it in front of you as well. “Right, I like your top,” gesturing to a little chain by the neckline. “Do you need help carrying those, by any chance? Or are all three of them for you?” She chuckles shyly. “Would you mind giving me a hand bringing these over to the booth with Isa and Ryujin over there?” 

~~~

Your phone reads 11:00 pm. Ryujin’s face is practically glued to the table, and Isa continues mumbling into her palms about her teddy bears wondering why she hasn’t come home yet. Your friend is sitting next to and has his arm around Ryujin, and you can guess where his free hand is. Knowing you’ve drunk a few yourself, you get up and walk cautiously yet in no straight line towards the toilets. After doing your business, you wash your hands and leave. On the way out of the bathroom, you set your mind to wake up Ryujin and offer to see her and Isa home. 

As you make your way back to the booth, you find a pair of guys huddled by a corner. You see between them a familiar figure. In your daze you fight to recall why it’s something you can recall, and then it hits you. The glint of the chain on her neckline catches your eye and you walk over to them, for the second time regret seeping into your mind before anything even happens. You’re way too drunk, you think to yourself. Whatever happens next is a bad idea, but you steel your resolve that it has to happen.

“Oh, Oppa!” She turns both guys’ attention to you, and they start throwing you dirty looks. “Hey, come on. Everyone’s drunk, we’d better go.” You make for her wrist, but one of the guys pushes you back. You notice the other guy has his hand on her shoulder, keeping her against the wall. “Why don’t you look after your friends, and we’ll look after her?” “Don’t make me do this,” you quip as you take a step forward again. After hearing them chuckle, the alcohol takes over you, your vision flashes, and finally fades to red. The last thing you remember is swinging high and kicking low.

~~~

You slowly come to, raising your head from the headrest. A stinging pain and a cold touch on the corner of your mouth greet you as your vision stabilizes from quadruple, to triple, and to double, before settling your focus on a bottle of antiseptic solution on the coffee table in front of you. Immediately, you shut your eyes as tight as they can go, deciding wherever you are is too bright, and deciding that the pain on your temple and across your forehead has something to do with how hard you’re shutting your eyes. 

“You didn’t have to do that. I was just about to leave.” You hear pieces of ice clink against each other as the cold touch moves to your forehead. “Hi, Yuri. They didn't do much worse to you did they?” “No,” she says in a relieved tone, “you saved me. It was a lot to take in honestly, but they’re worse off than you are. Thank you.” The cold spot again moves to the corner of your mouth. 

You struggle your eyes open and find her right up in your face, inspecting what you think is a wound by your eyebrow. She notices you staring at her and she backs off quickly. “Sorry… That one looked pretty bad.” “Thanks for looking after me. Where are we?” You try to sit up, only to be forced back down by a number of painful spots all over your back and torso. “You fought them, they fought back,” she pushes you down firmly onto the sofa and brings the ice bag back onto your face, “you won. We got back to the booth, and you made me call a taxi. You carried Isa-unnie and Ryujin into the taxi,” she hands you a glass of water, which you begin sipping, “and I got the other oppa. We dropped off Isa-unnie, then your friend. You wouldn’t tell me where to drop you off,” she takes the empty glass, “so I had no choice but to bring you here. Ryujin is upstairs in her room.” 

You sit up more comfortably. “Thanks, Yuri. I owe you one.” You check the time, and find it’s 2:00 am. “Sorry for intruding so late. I should go–” “You’re…” she interrupts. “You're in no condition to go home alone. Spend the night. Please?” She looks at you with a pair of puppy dog eyes and flashes a heart with her hands to you. “I… Thank you.” You lay back onto the sofa, the fatigue you didn’t know you had overwhelming you into oblivion.

~~~

(smut starts here)

You open your eyes slowly, taking advantage of the darkness.The first thing you notice are the closed pink curtains, and next is the fluffy scent of baby powder and fresh shampoo. You continue trying to get your bearings, and an immense wave of pleasure shoots up your spine. You look down and see Yuri licking your dick up and down, savoring each stroke of her tongue and letting her spit cover every inch. 

You place a hand on her nape, and she looks up at you. “Oh, good morning. Am I doing this right, Oppa?” She takes another long drag of her tongue from the base to your tip, causing you to moan lightly. “I’w thake that ash a yesh,” she mumbles as she places the head of your cock onto her tongue. “Yuri, what are you…” She takes half your length into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks to suck you off. She releases your dick with a pop, “I feel like I haven’t thanked you enough for last night. Call it even?” She smiles as innocently as can be, and then takes your cock into her mouth again. “Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if you want…” “Keep going, baby.” She blushes at the sudden use of her pet name, but returns to her work of thanking you much more profusely than you ever imagined. 

As she continues sucking you off, you snake your hand towards her nightgown and onto her left breast. You ease back into the bed and fondle her through the smooth fabric, earning her own little moans vibrating through her throat and onto your shaft. She lets go of your cock once again, and pulls the straps of her gown off her shoulders. She pulls the smooth dress down, exposing a cute and perky pair of breasts. “Please ogle me a lot, Oppa…” She grabs your shaft again with one hand and makes long and slow strokes up and down your entire length. With her other hand, she takes yours and places it onto her left breast. “Just enjoy… Just enjoy me.” 

“Jack me off faster, baby,” you command her, and she moans slightly at the name again. She goes faster and her grip grows just a bit tighter. She maintains eye contact with you as best as she can despite you pinching her hardening pink nipples, drawing her to close her eyes and let her head lull back. You motion for her to use her mouth again and she obeys immediately, bending over to your dick and granting you easier reach to fondle her other breast. You pay special attention to how she likes her nipples played with, tracing circles along her areolas before taking her nubs between your index finger and thumb to squeeze and tug. In return, she grows a bit more careless with her blowjob, letting her mouth leak more and more saliva, as well as taking in more and more of your length before finally hitting the back of her throat. You accidentally tug on her boobs a bit harder, causing her to moan onto the tip of your dick. You start feeling guilty when she starts sliding your cock out of her mouth, but as you get ready to apologize she lifts up the bottom hem of her nightgown, showing you her clean shaven pussy. She gathers her whole gown into one bunch by her waist before pulling it over her head to leave herself completely naked for you. 

“Please tell me you like me, Oppa…” She pleads slowly and carefully, while bringing your hands to her chest once again. You relish on the warmth and softness of her breasts that you only realize she’s already straddled you and has started stroking your cock again. “Tell me… I want to hear you say it, please.” “You’re so,” she gives you one rapid stroke, “fucking,” she moans as you fondle her more roughly, “hot,” she forces herself to look straight into your eyes again, “Jo Yuri.” She speeds up her handjob, finding it harder and harder to maintain her eye contact in favor of shutting her eyes and letting the pleasure overtake her. “I’m close.” She strokes you rapidly, noticing how your legs are starting to shake, her gaze growing more intense, her squeezing you tighter, your moans getting louder, your grip on her boobs getting rougher and rougher and rougher, until–

She lets go just as you’re about to cum, “Oppa… did you cum?” “Not yet, baby, why’d you stop?” You groan disappointedly at her. “I’m sorry… It’s just… you have to enjoy me more.” She brings her soaked pussy above your cock and rubs the tip all over her lower lips, smearing your precum and her slick together on her hot cunt. You groan again, and she gets the message. Bit by bit, she sinks herself down onto your dick, relishing in the sensation of a huge and girthy cock filling her up. You accidentally squeeze her soft tits too hard again, and with an apologetic harsh tug on both her nipples downward, she abruptly slams herself down onto your waist, taking in your cock to the hilt. You feel every inch of your dick being squeezed by her pussy and soaked with her love juices, and at the end of it you feel your tip prod against what must be her cervix. 

“Never got my toy this deep into me before. Do you like it, Oppa? Does my slutty little fuckhole make you feel good?” She grins evilly at you as she leans forward for a kiss. You barely process her amazingly naughty words before she starts riding you, lifting herself up until only your tip remains in her, before slamming herself down again, taking your entire length into herself. You relish how her cunt clenches around you so lovingly, how tight she is that there’s no way this doesn’t hurt her, how loud she moans while you feel your cock quickly entering and exiting her pussy. 

She plants her elbows on either side of your head and cradles your face right in front of her bouncing chest. You take her right nipple into your mouth and she moans all the more loudly, rides you all the more violently. Your right hand grabs her left breast, fondling it the way that drives her crazy, and your last free hand gripping her ass as a hold to guide her up and down your cock. “Yuri,” you mumble with her nipple between your teeth, “I’m close again…” She rides you harder and you find it more difficult holding it in. You pray she lets you cum this time, calling upon a God you once knew, but also you pray that she lets you pull out first. Or not. As long as you cum. 

You begin sucking more harshly, and she responds by riding you faster; she grinds on your dick and drags your cock over every inch of her warm, wet walls. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, aching for her own release as well. Your grip on her ass tightens too, so much so that her cheeks spill out between your fingers as you pull her closer and pump into her as deep as you humanly can. 

You must’ve hit every last one of her good spots. A scream tears through her throat as she lifts herself off of you. Her cum sprays all over your waist, your cock, her bedsheets, and she even has the indecency to rub her clit all throughout, causing more and more of her cum to spray everywhere. You watch her through her climax, admiring the way her thighs jiggle with every jerk of her hips, the way her nipples stand erect on top of her bouncing boobs, the way her face contorts with an ungodly amount of pleasure she’s never experienced in her life. She falls forward, pressing her still-leaking cunt on your dick, and her breasts onto your chest as she heaves deep breaths through what should be a now-bruised throat. In a raspy yet sweet voice, she asks, “Was it good, Oppa? Did you like the feeling of pounding your horny pleasure girl’s tight little cunt?” She snuggles into your neck and plants little kisses along your jawline. “I haven’t cum yet, baby…” you admit quietly and out of breath. “Oh? That’s fine, Oppa. It just means you can enjoy me more.”

a/n: whoa that was way longer than I ever thought I could write at this point. all of that just this afternoon and only in response to the ask lol. this wasnt in my WIPs tbh and it was just a random BFH that accidentally took me... five hours to write? again im glad how it turned out thanks for reading all this youre awesome

[chrattslut]

Soft!bf!chris x fem!gf!reader

summary: you're having bad period cramps and chris comforts you by getting you your favorite snacks and cuddling you.

warnings: fluff, pet names (baby), comforting, kissing.

a/n: hii this is my first time ever writing any form of fan fiction and im a little nervous to start but here we are. I will be starting a taglist so if you want to be added just comment under this post and you will be added for my next fic. if you have any advice for me or any recommendations feel free to message me or leave a comment. enough yapping, hope you enjoy my first fic!!

You were currently in Chris' room laying in his bed curled up into a little ball under his blankets with one of his fresh love hoodies and sweatpants. You were watching your favorite show but your cramps were so bad that you couldn't even move, Chris had a meeting very early in the morning so when you woke up he wasn't there. All of a sudden you hear the front door of the Sturniolo household open and close and you hear Chris's contagious giggling.

You smile from hearing his giggling and from knowing he's finally home. His footsteps are coming towards his room and once the door opens he calls your name to get your attention, you peek from over the covers and smile at him while he looks at you with love and admiration in his eyes when he meets your eyes.

He walks over to you on the bed after taking his shoes off and starts kissing your cheek before he lays down on his side right in front of you. "I missed you all day baby." he says while stroking your cheek with his thumb. "How are you feeling? I know you've told me your cramps get really bad." You smile loving how he remembers the little things about you. "They hurt really bad but I think I'll be okay" you say not wanting to sound dramatic so that you don't bother him.

"I know exactly what you need, wait here" He gets up from the bed, quickly putting some shoes on and then leaves his room. You lay there a little confused but just chuckle at the way he cares for you so much.

A couple minutes later you see him walk back into the room with multiple CVS bags and he empties them out on the bed, you sit up from your laying position and look at all of your favorite snacks and more on the bed while he stands there with a smile. You look up at him and he opens his arms while you crawl over to him and give him a hug, he kissed your head while hugging you and then he hands you a teddy bear. The same teddy bear he won for you from one of the games at the fair that he named "Elvis". You took it from him and hugged it before laying on the bed again with Elvis in your arms and Chris just smiles and chuckles a little at your cuteness. He sits next to you on the bed and you lay your head on his lap while he opens a bag of sour patch watermelons and feeds you some before he eats some himself.

He leans down and kisses you after chewing and swallowing the candy. "Thank you baby" you tell him. Chris looks down at you and smiles while stroking your hair, "Your welcome love" he says. He lays down and gets more comfortable and you both fall asleep in each others arms with your head on his chest.

hope you guys enjoyed. this is not proofread so if you notice any mistakes please let me know. comment to be added to the taglist and comment what you want to see next. thank you for reading.

[justmeinatree]

please please please (NO PRESSURE BUT) (IM BEGGING YA)

something extremely smutty where like niall is working out: (literally need nothing else completely go ham its up to you but just like LOOK:)

the little jerk as he lifts up yk what im talking aboutt lets not pretend we're not *respectfully* looking.

as if i could say no to this 😅 it’s not the smuttiest thing, but if we’re open to a part 2, there’s a lot of room to play 😏

Word Count : 1.3k

it was the breathy grunts that first got your attention. 

you’d never cared much for niall’s workouts, always preferring to have the quiet time, enjoying a cuppa, maybe a book or tv show. but as you were just getting cozy with your tea, pulling the blanket over your legs, you could hear him from down the hall.

it piqued your interest, the sounds he was making having reached your ears, and for some reason, shooting down to your centre, leaving a little tingle of interest.

and for that same reason, you were now leaving your warmth and comfort, flinging the blanket back over the arm of the couch, trudging down the hall. 

once you pop head around the doorframe though, eyes coming into contact with your boyfriend, the tingle of interest in your cunt quickly turned to a dribble of excitement.

because fuck, was this the scene you’d been missing out on all these years ? you’ll have to remember to scold yourself for that one later, but for now, your brain was short wiring. niall was currently laying on his exercise mat, legs bent up at the knees, slightly spread, his arms straight up above his head, doing some sit ups with an exercise ball in his hands. and, since the universe wanted to punish you even more, with every flex of his abs, his hips would thrust up just a bit with the force of the movement. 

he was glistening, a sheen of sweat all over his skin, torso bare for your eyes to ogle. and when did your drip of excitement turn into a full fledged puddle of arousal ? how long had you been watching ? why are you quite literally feeling yourself leaking down your inner thighs ? 

it’s once he lays back down, taking a moment to breathe between sets, that you make your presence known. you weren’t exactly trying to, but a small whimper managed to escape your throat without permission. but really, his entire body was stretched out, muscles flexed, and if you look really closely, you can see the outline of his cock through his shorts. you really can’t be blamed.

niall’s eyes flick over to the door, noticing you, quirking his eyebrow, “what is it, love ?”

you bite your lip, heat rising on your cheeks at the prospect of being caught. however, niall was your boyfriend, had been for a long time, and moments like this don’t much embarrass you anymore, “d’you always look this good while you workout ?”

a loud breathy chuckle erupts from niall, echoing through the room, “gonna start joining me, sweet girl ?”

you squint at him, tilting your head to the side, looking at him with a playfully untrusting look, “was this your plan all along ?”

and so maybe he wanted to see if being a little louder than usual, a little more grunty than usual, would make you come over. and maybe he chose to forego his shirt, and maybe he spread his legs a tiny bit more than usual, in an effort to keep you around. “does it really matter now ?” he smiles innocently, “can see how wet your thighs are getting.”

“i hope you plan on doing something about that,” you smirk, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s antics.

“can’t do anything from way over there,” he hums, nodding his head in a come hither motion, “c’m’ere.”

as you finally step into the room, waltzing over to niall, he quickly reaches out for your ankles, his sheer strength taking over your moment of weakness, making you stop with your feet spread on either side of his head, eyes locked straight up between your thighs.

it was still early enough in the day, you hadn’t changed from your sleep shorts, tiny piece of fabric without any panties, something niall typically likes to tease you about, “why even wear anything if you’re gonna put those on,” he always drones on before bed.

but for now, he’s not complaining a bit, a fairly good view of your sopping cunt, peaking through the drenched fabric, arousal coating your inner thighs, “s’a good thing i’m parched,” he groans, hands gliding up your calves, stopping behind your knee, abruptly giving a tug, making your legs buckle. you squeak loudly, echoing through the room, as you were caught off guard, knees colliding with the mat underneath niall.

with your cunt sitting right above his face, niall groans, feeling the hot hot heat radiating off of you, “christ, and i thought i was warm,” he mumbles, his tongue darting out to lick along your skin.

he swirls around your thigh, taking his sweet time, lapping up any bit of arousal that’s made it way past your shorts, before moving onto the other thigh.

your legs were trembling, head tipped back, as your breathing accelerates. he was avoiding any area near your pussy, every ounce of your being aching for more. more tongue, more touches, more niall. more, more, more.

but once your skin was cleaned up, he pats your legs, groaning, “perfect post workout snack. think m’gonna jump into the shower now, baby.”

your eyebrows furrow immediately, because absolutely the fuck not, “like hell you are,” you quip, shuffling yourself until your centre is hovering right above his stiffening member. “you clean me, i clean you,” you murmur, leaning down over him.

and just like he did for you, your tongue slowly laps up the beads of sweat over his stomach and chest, feeling the ridges of his abs with every stroke. 

your eyes flutter shut, the musky, heady scent of sweaty man wafting through the air, the salty taste on your tongue, it was doing things you never could have imagined. not once had you really given workout niall a chance like this, something he always does much too early in the morning for your liking. but the more you were delving into it, the more your brain was swirling with want. with need.

you couldn’t stop, too caught up in licking as much of him as you could, tongue flicking over his nipples, mouth attaching to his pulse point. 

and it was working. you were teasing him right back. his telltale little breathy pants huffing against your ear whenever you were close to his neck, fingernails indenting your hips, his cock now painfully hard.

you’re not even sure niall’s noticed that his hips have started rolling, searching for any sort of relief, something you’re not too keen on giving into quite yet. 

so a moment later, you pull away, coming to a stand, “better get that shower going, we have some things to do today.”

niall scrubs his face in his hands, groaning loudly for a moment, before getting up with you. and as quick as a flash, he’s got you scooped up in his arms, running off.

you squeal again, laughing loudly, as he whips down the hall, around the corners, and into the washroom. he quickly closes the door behind himself, setting you down on your feet, pinning you against the wall, “can forget about all those things you have planned today. gonna be too busy.”

you hum, your body melting against the wall, as niall’s mouth leaves a trail of open mouth kisses over your shoulder and neck, teeth nibbling on the shell of your ear, “hmm tell me. tell me what we’re gonna do.”

“gonna start by showering with me,” he murmurs against your ear, “and if you’re a good girl, i might use the shower head on you.”

you whimper, nodding quickly, “please, fuck. what else ?”

niall tuts, shaking his head, “depends how good you are for me. now how about stripping down and washing me off in the shower ?”

“yes, yes anything. m’a good girl, i promise.”

……

Masterlist

[cokou]

ahh congrats on 100 followers!! and i didn't know if you wrote child reader but like ive been thinking about this for a hot minute now- child reader who just lost one of their teeth and still believes in the toothfairy puttint the tooth under the pillow at night it could be with anyone :'D

Tooth Fairy 歯の妖精

Multi Character Fic マルチキャラクター小説

event. 100 followers event! Requests all open till 17th of July 2024. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sum. child reader who lost one of their teeth and still believes in the tooth fairy! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. SFW! No warnings tbh. Child Reader is about the age of 7! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. THANK YOU SO MUCH ANONY!! Since you didn't mention any characters at all, i just hope i chose which character you adore in this post! :C If not, im so sorry! Thank you for the request! // Do not translate or transfer my works, this is my only account. Will not be crossposted anywhere. // Masterlist♡

E.Kidd

It was night time again, Kidd was sat on a chair between sets of rooms. He finally finished the weapon he was making up on his workshop, which means he gets to sleep early and good tonight. As he was drifting off to sleep, he heard a faint noise coming from your room.

For a second he heard a loud cry that was replaced by a loud shriek echoing against the thin walls of the room. He ignored the noise, thinking that (Name) was only playing around with their toy and it got stuck onto something. But as farther he ignored it, it was replaced by loud laughter with hints of crying.

He bothered to finally check out what that little chipmunk was doing right now. Standing up in front of your room, he was about to reach the doorknob. His body jolted as you kick the door open with a wide smile.

He looks at you, feeling that something was unusual with your appearance.

"What the hell is unusual with you today? You look different than usual."

"Look! Look! I lost a tooth!" You said excitingly, wiping away your tear stained eyes as you show your palm to him carrying your lost tooth. You grinned widely that your teeth displayed incompleteness in them.

"So that's what's different huh? Why are you so damn happy with losing a tooth?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Because! If I put this under my pillow tonight," You lean over at his ears as he kneels. "The tooth fairy will visit me!" you whisper at him.

A part of him thought to just break whatever you believe in and just say 'they're not real at all'. But how could he? (Name) was the cutest child ever!

"Ah, so that's what this is, it's pretty stupid you know that?"

"No it's not stew-pid! I'm gonna get a penny!" You danced around in happiness as you show off your teeth excitingly.

"Yeah okay sure, whatever. Go to sleep, it's almost past your bedtime." He turns you around, pushing you on the way to bed as he tucks you in.

"Okay— and if you don't like right now, you're not getting that freaking penny from that tooth fairy thing." He pats your head as you nod at him, finally shutting the lights off for you to drift off to sleep.

—

He waits half an hour to make sure you're sleeping, sneaking into your room. He inserts his hands under your pillow to find the stupid tooth that tucked on it. After feeling under pillow for a minute and a half and almost losing his mind, he finally finds it. He replaces the tooth with cents enough to make a whole penny.

Bonus+ He almost fell asleep waiting for the half an hour mark. And he never did this ever again making you think that the tooth fairy didn't like your missing tooths, making you sad.

T. Law

Yes, you woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him your tooth was almost falling off your gums. He told you to shrug it off and go to sleep, saying that it will fall on it's own when it needs to. You couldn't sleep after he sent you back to your room, waiting impatiently in front if the mirror.

Law suspected that you went back to sleep, checking you up on your room, he dound the gleeming of light outside the door. He entered the room and saw you sitting on a small vanity, showing off your teeth in the mirror.

"(Name)-Ya, your teeth won't come off if you stare at it like that.." He held your shoulders, slightly tapping it as he looks at you.

"But i wanna see the tooth fairy.." you look at him frowning.

"Tooth Fairy? Why do you think that?"

"Because, i saw a movie and it had a tooth fairy in it! They were small, and..and they're very cute!"

" Well i assure you if you wait by the morning your tooth will come off." He points your chin up and slightly tickles you, earning a small exhausted giggle from you.

You jump on your bed and tucked yourself sleep as Law turned off the lights and exited your room.

—

You excitedly woke up from the sleep and immediately rushing into the small vanity, your tooth had come off! You rushed into Law's bedroom at hopped on the bed, jumping on it happily.

"Wake up!" You continued jumping on his bed. Law wakes up and rubs the sleepiness of his eyes.

"(Name)-Ya... it's quite too early..." He sits up, grabbing your small legs and setting you down to sit on his matress. He looks at you curiously as you glow with happiness that he'd never seen directly from you.

"Look! Look!" You open your palms and there lies your tooth between. "It came off!" Your face had the widest grin on them that Law swore you looked like a ' >:D'.

"Hmm..why are we happy that you lost your tooth again?"

"TOOTH FAIRY!!" You pounce your whole weight at him and giving him a big, big hug. He reciprocates and congratulated you as the 'tooth fairy' would visit you.

Bonus+ He forgot to insert a coin under your pillow in exchange for your teeth and you ended up crying on his arms and claiming that all the stupid tooth fairy stuff was fake and he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty as he hid his laughter.

N. Robin & Nami

"Tooth fairy? Psh, that's stupid. They're not real." He scoffed at your remarks of claiming about the tooth fairy.

"But i saw it in a movie!" You two exchanged words as she claimed that no such things as tooth fairies were real and that they were just fantasies made up by a bunch of idiots, Robin had to step in with the fight and pulling you two back from exchanging words.

"Look Robin-nii..she said tooth fairies aren't real!" You point at Nami who was getting irritated.

"Because they aren't!" Nami was practically stomping her feet into the ground as you two fought.

"Come on now (Name), tooth fairies are indeed real." Robin kneels to look at you on the eyes and smiles at you, making you smile back at her words as well. She slowly licts you up with her flower-flower fruit, careying you within her reach and taking you into her arms. She places you besides her chair as she takes out her book.

"By the way Robin-nii, i lost a tooth today!" You seing your short legs into the chair as rhey did not reach the floor, Robin looks at you, smiling.

"Congratulations (Name), you really are growing fast." She rubs your back, her smile gleeming at you, making you grin widely at her kindness. She indeed notices the missing tooth that you were talking about.

"Do you think the tooth fairy will get my teeth?" You frown at her. "No way! Because they're not at all real!" Nami butts in again and crosses her arm while scoffing.

"No! They're real!" You fight back in response to Nami as she claims that the fairy wasn't real again. Robin chimes between you two, again. Fully assuring you that tooth fairies are indeed real. She whispere at Nami to just play the act to make sure you don't throw tantrums all over again and disturbing anyone.

Robin returns to you and hands you over a penny, congratulating you and telling you that you'll get lots of more when the fairy visits you tonight!

Bonus+ Nami tried convincing Robin that it was a waste to give you 2 pennies in exchange for a tooth, she loudly exclaims that tooth fairies aren't even real and she shouldn't even lie about it and make your hopes up. Unfortunately, Robin disobeys Nami's scolding and places 2 pennies under your pillow.

+ She was suprised to hear you cry to her in the morning saying that the fairy took the toorh but didn't leave any pennies under the pillow as Robin looked at Nami frowning. Robin talked to Nami afterwards.

P. Ace

As soon as you told him that your tooth was loose, he sat you up on a chair, picked up a piece of thread, and tied it around your loose tooth and tied the other end into the door. He convinced you that the tooth fairy was indeed real and you believed that it would give you 50 berries in exchange for your tooth.

So, he calmed you down and held the door. He opens the door, enough for the thread to stretch and closing it hard. You shrieked in pain as the technique didn't work, instead, the thread had broken up into two pieces of strings.

He convinced you that he had another great idea and it would work this time. He tied the thread into a nerf bullet and loaded it into a neef gun,

"3..2..1.." He shoots the nerf gun and nothing happened, you look at him with your mouth open to showcase the loose tooth. Just as you faced him, he grabbed the thread and pulled it off your gums, making you yell and cry at the sudden pain. He brings you into the bathroom and made you wash off the blood off your gums.

"And now the tooth fairy will come exchange you some 50 berries!" He smiled at you and patted your head, you believed him and his stupid antics that if you went to bed at night, that the tooth fairy would come and collect your tooth. You impatiently wait for the night to come, brushing your teeth and had Ace bring you to bed.

"Okay so, sleep now, if you wake up you'll see 50 berries under your pillow!" He pats your forehead and turning off your bedside lamp.

"But what if they don't get my teeth?"

"Nahhh, they will of course. They love teeth! Especially yours you know!" He caresses your cheeks and says goodnight to you as he left your room, leaving you to dridt off to sleep.

Bonus+ you couldn't sleep all night because you were overthinking about the tooth fairy, so when Ace sneaked into your bedroom to replace your tooth, you pretended that you were asleep. The next day you kept it a secret from him and acted giggly and happy.

+ He borrowed the 50 berries from Marco.

©Cokou 2024, all works belongs to me.

[rebelwrites]

IM HERE FOR THE FLASH FIC!!

I’ve been craving some Jax Teller. I need something tender and sweet, but in character. Something to make me feel safe and wanted, but not simply desired. Idc what you write or how you do it because I know it’s going to be 👌

You Aren’t Meant To Be Back Until Christmas Eve

Jax Teller x Reader

This is a flash fic so it hasn’t been edited. It’s also good to be back writing again 🥺

It was the week leading up to Christmas and to say you were rushed off your feet was a complete understatement. This was your favorite time of year, even though your stress levels were through the roof, you practically lived off coffee and energy drinks and hardly saw your boyfriend Jax. You knew he understood why you were so absent in the run up to the festive season, the small bakery had queues running down the street from mid October.

Leaning against the stainless steel counter, you took a deep breath looking at the stack of cookie trays that were cooling waiting to be iced ready for the morning rush. Your body ached to where all you wanted to do was sink into a scalding hot bath, not moving until the hot water eased your aching muscles.

The sound of your phone echoing around the industrial supplied kitchen pulled you from any thoughts, you knew it would be Jax, it always was this time of night. No matter what time you were working he would always drop you a call to see how you were getting on, even when he was on runs with the club he would always make a point of calling you. Brushing the flour on the front of your jeans you grabbed your phone, quickly answering the call before pressing the device against your ear.

“Is it a late one again Darlin’?” Your boyfriend hummed, you could hear the tiredness hanging from his words, this last run for the club must have taken more of a toll on him this time.

“I think I’m still gonna be here come opening,” you sighed, letting your gaze fall to the countertop. “Don’t get me wrong I love Christmas and the bakery but I just want to spend time with you.”

“The money is nice as well,” he chuckled, causing the corners of your lips to tug into a small smile. You knew how much the bakery meant to not only Jax but the club too. This was one of the first legitimate businesses that was set up, Jax surprised you one day by showing the vacant lot and the new sign he had designed, from that day the “From Anarchy, With Love” bakery was born.

“How was the run?” You asked, pulling the phone away from you ear, putting in on speaker so you could be free to move around the kitchen.

“Long as fuck,” he groaned, you knew he would be running he hand across his face as he spoke. “I am so fuckin’ done with the muling, it is just getting more risky with each run,” he mumbled, with each word he spoke you could hear the pain in his voice.

Before he could carry on the sound of someone pounding at the front door gained my full attention. “Hold on baby, I swear someone is trying to put their fist through the front door of the bakery,” you huffed in annoyance. It was probably one customer trying their luck to see if they could get their order early. But that didn’t stop you from reaching into the cupboard by the doorway of the kitchen, grabbing my hand gun, flicking the safety off before tucking it into the bank of my jeans. One thing was for sure when it came to being Teller’s old lady, you was never without protection, whether this was in the form of a 9mm, a member of the club or Jax.

As you moved through the building, the knocking got louder and more persistent. “Bloody hell, don’t punch my door in, it never hurt you,” you scoffed, fishing the keys out of the pocket of Jax’s hoodie.

You felt myself fumbling with all the locks, once again thanks to Jax being over protective, soon enough the door was finally unlocked and the moment you pulled the heavy wooden door you dropped the set of keys on the floor as you saw your boyfriend leaving against the brick entrance.

“Hey Darlin’,” he hummed, quickly closing the gap between the two of you, engulfing you into his arms. The feeling of his muscular arms wrapping around your body caused all the stress to dissolve. “Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered against your hair, guiding you further into the shop before kicking the door closed with his foot.

“You aren’t meant to be back until Christmas eve,” you breathed, pulling back slightly so you could take in the look of your tired man. Somehow you freed one of your arms, allowing you to reach up brushing your fingers against his cheek. “Not that I am complaining nevertheless, what happened Jaxy?”

The fact you were greeted with a moment of silence told you everything, you knew things were rocky with Clay, no one knew the toll that everything was taking on the blond nuzzling his face into your shoulder. He wouldn’t let the outside world see him like this, but with you he felt he could let the walls come crumbling down, allowing him to process all the emotions he was feeling, and he knew his feelings would be taken seriously.

“Clay is going off on one again, his hands are getting worse and he has gone behind all of our back and the club is now in a deep hole with the cartel,” he had a wobble in his tone as he spoke, he was angry about the whole situation and I couldn’t blame him, I would be to. “I just needed my girl.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, to the world he was the vice president of a violent club but behind closed doors he was just a puppy wanting love.

“I know you need to work so I can’t take you to the Christmas market I know you want to go to but I have brought take out,” he hummed, holding up the plastic carrier bag you had completely missed when he first came into the bakery, “and I thought we could spend the night icing them amazing cookie, like we did when we were getting this place ready for the opening.”

Tears threatened to spill over your lash line, you had never been with someone who would abandon everything just because they wanted to spend time with you, even if that meant that they would be working till the sun came up.

“You know I want the cookies to be edible and sellable right?” You smirked, cocking your brow at him.

“Shut up and get your ass in that kitchen, Darlin’”

@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @withmyteeth @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @princess76179 @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @princess76179 @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @lmao-liz @babypink224221 @daddysgirl2857 @bravo-four-seal-team @garbinge @pedrohoe04 @littlekittymeow @nichia88-blog @zozebo

[gatorbites-imagines]

Bakugou x male reader where Bakugou got a thing for lingerie so he buys some to try on but is a little self-conscious and kinda runs away to bathroom to hide so reader don't see him, reader comfortes/reassures him that ofc he's beautiful and pretty. after comes the fucking

Katsuki Bakugou x male reader

Headcanons

(Aged up characters, obviously)

Im not dead, how is everyone? Trying to get back into writing now that I have time. Not too smutty, more focused on the fluff, but I hope that’s still enjoyable.

Reader is based vaguely off Hiromi Higuruma from JJK, cuz im a sucker for tired lawyer type dudes.

Katsuki has always been the type of person to put on a tough front, that didn’t lessen after you two started dating. You met after he graduated UA and set up his own agency, when he needed the best legal help to set it all up.

He didn’t really know how to act around you in the beginning, with your dry humor and the fact that you didn’t take him too seriously. You had a quirk license, but you never once planned on being a hero, since the system was corrupt and broken in your eyes.

This also led to your guys first major argument, way before you started dating. But being forced to work together for months meant you guys grew closer. At this point Katsuki also learned about your quirk, which was the ability to see and use people’s karma against them.

This meant you could “see” when people were lying, but it was more of a sense than sight, but that’s the easiest way to explain it. it was also how you were able to point out quite early on that he was lying through his teeth when he snapped that he didn’t like you.

Being with somebody who could easily point out when he was bluffing or trying to hide how he really felt, was something Katsuki wouldn’t like in the beginning, since it meant he couldn’t use his usual defense mechanisms.

But as time passed, Katsuki was able to be himself more and more around you, seeing as you could always sense to some degree when he was hiding something, and all your court work meant you could easily tell when there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t get himself to do it.

It meant that Katsuki finally allowed himself to start exploring other parts of himself and his interests. Being soft and harmless has never been something the explosion hero had seen himself as, but with you it just came easy.

And if he imagined being your cute little househusband who would greet you when you get home form a difficult case, who would undo your tie for you and massage your shoulders, only to show you the silk pieces he wore in your favorite colors, then it was just for Katsuki.

Katsuki can’t explain what came over him when he bought the lingerie pieces he had been glancing at for months. Maybe it was the extra hours of hero work that left him loopy and exhausted, or it was that deep urge to be small, soft and pretty, instead of big, tough and strong,

He could deny ever having bought it, since you guys had your own personal finances. That was until it came in the mail, in a nondescriptive box that just looked like any other package. It had Katsuki thinking it was something random he had bought, until he opened it up and was met with soft pink tissue paper and a personalized “thank you for supporting my small business” card.

The stickers, raspberry candies, and a guide on how to wash and care for the lace, was shoved aside. Bakugou went bright red as he pulled the tissue paper open and saw with his own eyes the pieces custom made for his build, in the softest of pinks and whites.

Part of him wanted to just throw it away, even if hed spent way too much money on it. but another part of Katsuki was excited, a soft shudder run down his spine as he rubbed the material between his calloused fingers. Maybe he could just… try it on. That didn’t mean he had to use it for anything, right?

It didn’t take Katsuki long to move into the bathroom across from your shared bedroom. It was large enough for both of you to have your space, but most importantly, it had a large mirror where you could see yourself with ease.

In his nervous excitement, Katsuki didn’t realize the guide for caring about said lingerie had been brushed to the floor, just barely tucked under the kitchen table where hed dumped the other packages you guys had received.

The blonde was a blushing mess as he tucked the lingerie on, breathing shaky and uneven as he felt the soft delicate lace and fabrics brushing against his muscular scarred body. Hed always looked strong and dangerous, but like this he could almost see himself as… delicate.

The shape of the lingerie made his already small waist seem smaller, whilst also supporting his pecs and squeezing around his thighs in ways he knew would have your hands twitching with the urge to grab.

Katsuki was too distracted with admiring himself to notice you arriving home, your tired voice calling out to him as you knew he would be around. His silence had you raising a brow as you tucked off your coat and tie.

The pile of packages wasn’t anything new. Being a hero meant Katsuki got a lot of mail shipped directly to him, and you got things every now and then too, though it was normally thank you gifts from clients.

The soft pink paper under the table caught your attention, and after picking it up you could help but huff softly in interest. Was Katsuki trying to surprise you? How sweet. Better not keep him waiting then.

Your quirk allowed you to see vague splashes of color and waves, each color and swirl showing different feelings and intensities of said feelings. His embarrassment and arousal had you softly chuckling to yourself. The shame and fear mixed into it was worrying though.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was. If the light under the bathroom door wasn’t enough to tell you, then the intense swirls of colors radiating through the doors cracks was another sign. This truly made him feel good, you could tell. It also meant you felt bad that he hadn’t come to you with this before, as it clearly made him feel some type of way.

“Katsuki?” you pipe up, knocking softly on the door, eyes locked onto the swirls of color and waves that seemed to twist and turn, wanting to gauge his reactions and feelings. The flashes of new colors and erratic waving made you frown. Why was he scared? Self-conscious?

You didn’t say anything about what you had found in the kitchen, instead letting Katsuki take all the time he needed to answer. A gruff but meek “what?” snapping through the door.

Inside the bathroom Katsuki started to feel horrible, wrapping his arms around himself. Hed been so distracted oogling at his body and the lace that he hadn’t even noticed you coming home, what type of hero was he to not realize?

The self-conscious feelings welled up, the imperfections he couldn’t see before almost blowing up to a much larger, much more noticeable scale. Why would you find him attractive like this? All muscles, sharp edges and ugly scars?

“What are you doing, honey?” you hum, keeping patient and open. Sure, you were jittery with the want to see him in whatever he had bought, but it was clear Katsuki was uncomfortable, mostly with himself than anything.

“Just- fuck. Go away for a moment, ill be out” he snapped, voice raising a few octaves that told you he was starting to get distressed. Katsuki couldn’t figure out why his eyes were welling up, or why he felt so weak and vulnerable like this. But the very thought of you seeing him like this and rejecting him felt worse than any wound he had ever gotten.

“What if I want to see” you mumble, close enough to the door to know he would hear you. Your quirk let you see the rapid fluctuations in the colors and swirls. Shock, annoyance, depressive self-hate, self-consciousness, begrudging acceptance.

He clearly wanted to demand to know how you knew what he was wearing, but Katsuki grumbled a little to himself. Of course you knew, you knew everything, you weren’t heroes go-to lawyer for no reason.

You took a small step back as the door unlocked, and nothing could have prepared you for the sight that would meet you. A hot breath was puffed out your nose as Katsuki stood so meekly before you, scarred arms still protectively wrapped around himself.

The longer you went without speaking, the more distressed your lover seemed to get, his red eyes

flicking from your face to the wall to the floor as he worried at his lip.

Finally, your explosive lover seemed to snap, throwing his arms out in a frustrated “say something for fuck sake!”, his eyes wide but shiny in a way that spoke of tears. His usual posturing and loud tone didn’t really have the same effect when he was wearing that pretty lingerie, and he was flushed so prettily in the face.

“you’re so pretty…” you finally muster out, his still locked to his face and body, hands clenched at your sides as familiar heat bloomed inside you like hot syrup. It wasn’t the usual ravenous hunger that had you bending him over the kitchen counter, or shoving him under your desk in your office, but it was similar.

He scoffed at your words, but his redder face and the bright colors swirling around him made it clear he felt flattered and noticed, a soft whimpered noise leaving his clenched lips when you finally started to touch him.

It was strange to have your usually self-assured and decided lover shuddering and gasping weakly from your hands just running up and down his sides, brushing against the delicate lace and the different stitches and patterns.

“s-stop saying stupid shit” he mumbled, his voice even sounding softer and more vulnerable than Katsuki normally allowed himself to be. The tone of Katsuki’s voice jumped up into a yelp as your hands grasp at his pecs, petting at his nipples through the sheer fabric, already so hard and sensitive from all his self-admiration earlier.

“If you don’t believe me, let me show you” you grumble out, finally looking Katsuki in the eyes with the look of a wolf about to eat its prey. The explosion of bright colors around Katsuki was euphoric in your eyes, even as he yelped when you picked him up with ease. The bedroom was right across the hall, but that wouldn’t stop you from carrying him there.

Katsuki wrapped his arms around his chest again as you laid him carefully on your shared bed, too flustered to look you in the eye. But you knew he wanted too, he was just to shy to allow himself to feel this way, which just meant you had to show him.

The gasped yelp that left him as you slide his thighs apart brought a hungry smirk to your face, Katsuki’s wide red eyes finally snapping to your own as you slowly slide lower and lower between them. You would make sure Katsuki felt more confident before the night was over, that was a promise.