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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

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A Failed Betrothal (6)

Here is a new chapter for you guys. I am terrible at writing feelings and this is my best shot.😅 Tell me what you think.

[Masterlist]

(PART 1)(PART 5)

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(Words in bold is French)

“Tch, Drake is going to be busy trying to find Hawkmoth. He can’t go around Paris, being Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. Besides, he can’t be a proper boyfriend even in his most lucid moments. I will be her boyfriend instead.”

Tim was glad he didn’t take a sip of his coffee when Damian volunteered to be Marinette’s boyfriend. But he still choked on air. Jason with his limited knowledge of french was confused. Damian didn’t do what he heard, right?

“No, you can’t. Chloe already told them about Tim. If I come in with a different boyfriend, they would get suspicious. We can work on Hawkmoth while we go on those dates. Besides, I thought you don’t like me. That’s not going to sell the image of a loving couple.” Marinette pointed out. (She also doesn’t want to do this fake-date thing. Not because she likes Damian and she had always been a goner for green eyes and totally would be date him if it weren’t for some stupid curse dictating her feelings for him and fake-dating him might get her catch feelings for him and she would get her heart broken when this is all over and she would stay single forever and be a lonely old lady with hamsters and cats for company.)

“Actually, Mari-bug, I only told the class how romantic your boyfriend is. I never told them what he looked like. Just in case, Timothy couldn’t make it. I have back-up favors to cash in.” Chloe explained.

Marinette didn’t even know why she was surprised at that, this was Chloe after all.

“You have more than one American boy around our age in your debt who you intend to be my boyfriend? Sounds like you, Queenie. So that also means that Damian doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.”

“My offer still stands. I will be your ‘boyfriend’ before I have to go back. I will be more understanding than those other American boys when you have to rush out for an attack. That is to assume that they can come here or agree. In our initial meeting, I didn’t like that weak girl act you put up. Recent events have made me realize that you are a much stronger person. (Careful Damian, that sounds like a compliment.) You are a decent partner to date.(Shit. Shit. Shit. That wasn’t a compliment, right?)”

Damian couldn’t see why Dupain-Cheng would refuse such a good deal. He supposed her feelings might be still hurt from his first impression of her. He would give her an apology when they are alone and away from his brothers who would make a big deal of it.

“Fine. At least, the curse will at least make this fake couple thing more believable.” grumbled Marinette. The light pink blush on her face is not because he said she was someone he would date.

Oh right, the curse. He swore internally, it had possessed him to be Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. He now would have to endure the hand-holding, kissing and staring into each other’s eyes, and try to resist the curse which will be much harder now. Somehow, he didn’t regret it a little bit. It sounds more bearable with him doing those things with her than her with Drake. This was just a mutual agreement to ward off her suitors and prove to her classmates that she was off the market.

Chloe clapped her hands,“If we have everything sorted out, you can start being a good boyfriend by walking Marinette to school today. We want to be on time now.”

The others started packing up their stuff or finished what they were eating. Marinette was dragged out of the bakery by an impatient Damian. Chloe and Alix picked up what Marinette left behind and followed out. The rest soon left right after, leaving the two boys in the bakery.

“Hey, Replacement, tell me if I am wrong but did Demon Spawn willingly ask a girl out?” Jason asked, stealing a croissant from Tim.

“Try making himself the perfect candidate to be her fake boyfriend out of many choices, including me, and get her to agree to it. Now he has to go on a few romantic dates with Marinette in order to ward off this really pushy guy in her class. Demon Spawn also has a crush on her and he’s in denial of it. We are not hallucinating either. I’ve checked.” Tim replied, sipping his coffee.

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“Damian. Let go. Hey, Wayne, are you listening to me? Let me go. This is not how you treat your significant other. And you are not even going in the right direction.” Marinette all but yelled at him.

He released his grip on her. “My apologies for manhandling you but I wanted to tell you this away from everybody else.”

“What?” She asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

I- This is a little difficult to say for me,” Damian started. (Why were his palms sweaty? It’s just an apology. He had done it before although it was mostly because Grayson told him what he did wrong and made him do it.) “But I am sorry for calling you weak, pathetic and every other bad thing I have said about you when you have shown that you are anything but those. I was mad at myself for being caught and took it out on you.”

Her glare softened.

“Apologies accepted. The school is this way.” She said with a smile and went towards the school. Damian walked by her side, his hands in his pockets.

Marinette looked at where his hands were, “If we are going to do this fake dating thing, I suggest we hold hands.”

Damian grabbed her hand and continued walking in silence. Her hands were so small and fitted perfectly in his. Oh God, it’s the curse again. Turning him into a sap. Do not think about her hands. And the fact that she took down a man twice her size with them which was an amazing sight to watch.

“Why are you so stiff? Loosen up a little. You are with the love of your life. Smile a little.”

Damian plastered on a fake smile, “Happy?”

“It looks fake. Being a model he will be able to tell.” Marinette remarked, “Are you sure you want to do this? We can still go get Tim to be my boyfriend.”

“I can do this. Drake wouldn’t be a better choice. It doesn’t help that you are relentlessly nit-picking me. Or are you that bad of a girlfriend?” Damian couldn’t help but sniped back. “Maybe that’s why Chat Noir left you.”

He found himself back against the world and her elbow at his neck. (He would forever deny that he liked it.)

“Look here, Wayne. You know nothing about me and you shouldn’t assume that you do. Chat Noir was revoked of his status as a hero for his behaviour. If you don’t act the part properly, I am going to have my former partner, who has absolutely no sense of boundaries, harassing me in my civilian life and I have already dealt enough of his advances to last a lifetime. I have given you so many chances to get out of this which you refused and yet, you are half-assing it. So are you in this 100 percent or not? Because I am at the end of my patience right now.”

“The boy who is obsessed with you is the former Chat Noir?”

“Yes, I will explain about that later but what’s your answer?”

“I will give it my best shot but I have never pretended to be in love.”

“Were you not taught in the League?”

“There were seduction tactics shown to members when they were old enough and I left them when I was 10 but I am not sure if those skills can be applied here.”(Slamming your opponent against the wall wasn’t one of them but she was doing a great job of it so far. No. No. No. He is not his father. This is different from whatever he has with Kyle.)

She released her hold on him and grabbed his hand, leading him towards her school.

“Well then, here are the basics. Everytime you look at me, just think of your favourite things to make your smile a little more genuine. Maybe call me by a pet name if you want. Keep your touch on me like you can’t keep your hands off of me and act really reluctant when you have to let go. You will only keep them my shoulders, arms, hands and waist or I will break your hand. I will do the same. If you are going to have to kiss me, give me a warning.” He looked into her blue eyes and nodded.

“Alright.”

“Oh. I almost forgot. In case they try to question our relationship. My favourite colour is red. My favourite song is ‘Fearless’ by Jagged Stone.(I love Taylor. Sue me) And we met online a few months ago. You came all the way to Paris to see me a month ago and asked me out. We will talk more that later. Oh, I also love designing and have dreams of being a famous fashion designer.-”

Marinette rambled on which Damian found a little endearing. He looked forward to knowing more about her. He added a few comments here or there about himself (because it was only fair.) and ways to improve their cover story about their relationship.

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“We are nearly at school. Let’s start the act, Romeo.” Marinette whispered at him and looked at him with a bright smile that brought a tiny smile to his face. Okay, maybe he liked Marinette a little bit but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with her.

He moved her hand holding his to the crook of his elbow.

“Is this acceptable, my lady?”

She wrinkled her nose, (Adorable. No. Don’t go there) “This is fine. But can you not call me that? And princess too? I may have erased his memories as Chat Noir but it could be a trigger to bring them back.”

“Understandable. What about Malak?”

She blushed. Marinette had learned Arabic a while back and was very fluent in the language.

“It’s okay.” She said in a soft voice. She put her other hand on his bicep and leaned on his shoulder.

“You don’t look like a touchy-feely person so is this fine?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, let me tell you more about the atrocious lies that had passed her mouth.”

They walked into the school courtyard, arm-in-arm, for the entire school, especially Marinette’s class, to see. The perfect picture of a loving couple. Marinette’s blush from earlier was evident on her face, leaving no room for doubt about her new relationship status. (Many guys, gals and pals were upset over it.) As they both walked up the stairs, whispering and laughing about who knows what (gulliable and idiotic classmates they have to suffer learning with), two pairs of green eyes followed them.

In this case, the saying ‘green-eyed monsters’ was true. One was envious of the boy who held the girl he wanted in his arms and the other was envious of the attention the couple was receiving.

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Damian escorted Marinette to her class. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and said, loud enough for the class to hear, “Bye, Malak. I will pick you up after school for our date.”

“B-bye, Damian.”

He took her hand, gave a kiss to the back of it and departed, leaving a very red-faced Marinette behind. The rest of the class parted the way as Damian walked past.

She rushed into her seat where Chloe sat beside it, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“Sooooo, Mari-bug, how was your date? You two rushed out of there so quickly and left your stuff behind. So eager to spend time with your boyfriend, eh? You enjoyed it very much by the looks of it.”

“Sorry about that, Chloe. Did you bring my bag and the cheese danishes?” Marinette tried to change the topic. And she also wanted to make sure a god of destruction doesn’t go hungry and angsty during school. “Yep, here you go,” Chloe said, handing Marinette her bag and a box of cheese-flavoured snacks for Plagg, “Your mom packed some for you.”

“Marinette. Where have you been the last two days? And you came back with a boy. I am honestly worried about your behaviour.” Lila played the concerned classmate wonderfully.

“Yeah, Marinette. This is a new low, even for you.” Alya added.

Marinette readied herself to tell the cover story Damian and her worked out on the way here.

“Lila, I appreciate your ‘concern’. But the last four days have been a little hard on me so excuse me if I am a little snappy today. You see, Damian disappeared and didn’t return home after school on Friday. So when he didn’t pick up for our weekly video call, I panicked and called his family and they told me what happened. They sent me a plane to get out of Paris so I can’t get akumatized.”

“Was that why you were gone on Saturday?” Chloe asked, playing along although she already knew why Marinette wasn’t in Paris the last four days.

“Yeah. Sorry for not telling you guys. It was sorta last minute. Thankfully, he wasn’t kidnapped actually. His biological mother picked him up but never told his father that she was taking him. I just came back last night. Dami followed me to make sure I am okay.”

“What a bunch of bullcrap.” Alya said, “I don’t believe you.”

Oh. The irony... “Alya, I don’t care if you do. My life is my own business. So keep your nosy nose out of it. Your opinions don’t matter to me anymore, stranger.” Marinette internally was tired of this silly routine and wanted this to end already.

Alya wanted to pick a fight with her over the smallest things she did for the past months. She wondered why her former best friend hated her this much.

“Lila told me that you were skipping school and you paid an actor to be your pretend boyfriend.”

Pretending to not hear what Alya said, Marinette turned towards Chloe, “Hey, you never told me about how you met Tim. I can’t believe that you two are friends.”

“We met at one of those charity galas-”

“Hey, we were talking to you.” Alya cut her off. To which Chloe glared at the ombre-haired girl.

“I thought our conversation was done. What else am I supposed to say?”

Marinette was frustrated and hid that fact well, showing any reaction would give the game away. If she had reacted, it would further fuel the fire of Alya’s self-righteousness, making her believe that Marinette was somehow guilty of what Lila told her about. Lila managed to turn nearly the entire class against her by appealing to their ‘hero’ side and outbursts from Marinette and the others made them more sure of themselves of being in the right. It was so deep-rooted that nothing would sway them to logical reasoning. Maybe except Phase 2. Phase 1 was made a little easier when Talia kidnapped her and made her miss a few days of school.

Phase 2 was to not acknowledge the lies or just appear uninterested. It would illustrate the point that people don’t have to listen to them if they don’t want to. If possible, sow little seeds of doubt to the ones Lila had a looser grip on. The more people they can slowly get on their side, the better.

Alya was confused, usually Marinette would throw a ‘temper tantrum’ about how she didn’t do that and Lila lied.“I-, you should-, You should apologize to Lila.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, “For what this time?”

“For saying that she was lying.”

“Pray tell, when did in any of our conversations so far did I do that? I mean I don’t like the fact that she just accused me with little evidence of paying my someone to be my boyfriend but I am not going to fight with anyone over it. Maybe I did do that, Maybe I didn’t. Maybe there is a good reason I did those things. The thing is Lila should keep to her own business and I will keep to mine. And as should you. I know you are a reporter at heart but you should at the very least respect my privacy.”

Alya stayed silent, fuming. Everyone was looking at them now. She realized that the designer was right and if she pushed further, she would be the bad guy.

“I thought so. Now, go away. I have nothing else to say to you. Let Chloe finish her story of how she met Tim which you so rudely interrupted.”

“Who’s Tim?” Lila asked, wanting to know more about Marinette’s boyfriend to work on an angle to get him away from the ravenette.

“Mari-Bug’s boyfriend’s older brother. Now, shoo peasants, we are talking. Anyways, Mommy took me to when I was younger so I could mingle with all the other rich kids and get connections. Timothy was there and back then, he was still with the Drakes...”

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Lila and Alya returned to their seats, both were visibly upset although Lila was seething inside. When Marinette was not at school for the last two days, the Italian thought that it was the last she had seen of her. Today, she showed up with a handsome boy on her arm and by the looks of his clothes, rich too. If she manages to get ‘Damian’ to break up with that pest and date her instead, then she would have a rich, handsome boyfriend devoted to her and that brat would be so heart-broken that an akuma so powerful would be made that even Ladybug won’t be able to defeat. A two for one deal. Lila started planning (scheming) to take her boyfriend away.

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(Part 7)

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Edit: I am so sorry. I forget to add the taglist.

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl, @henie04, @blueblossombliss, @khneltea, @mochegato, @itsmeevie01, @roguishredaxion, @alyssadeliv, @steph-hearthlight, @adrestar, @eliza-bich, @abrx2002, @hikari55ttva, @doglover82, @daminette5074, @moon5608,@justafanwarrior, @allis-sun, @animegirlweeb, @aespades, @corporeal-terrestrial, @mildlydeadly, @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl,

#damian x marinette #maribat #ml x dc #daminette #mlb x dc #a failed betrothal #betrothal au: take 2

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onionsoop · 3 years

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Blackmail /// Tendou Satori x f!Reader /// (+18)

Summary: During a game for Shiratorizawa, you plan to slip a love letter to Ushijima until Tendou catches you in the act. After stealing you letter, he blackmails you into cheering for the game without bra or panties and later fucks you the bathroom as one last request to get your letter back.

Length: 5k

Tags & Warnings: dub-con, exhibitionism, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, semi-possessive Tendou, praise (kind of) Tendou calls you a slut once

Authors Note: Hey, so this fic kinda doesn’t make sense emotion wise for Y/N with the soft ending, but its whatever. I had this idea for a fic and my brain refused to let me write anything else until I got it out, so enjoy. I just finished Season 3 of Haikyu and oml I simp Tendou so much I just had to write a fic for him. Regardless, sorry for any spelling or grammer mistakes and I hope you enjoy :)

Two days stood between you and the big game on Saturday. You had joined the cheer team for Shiratorizawa at the start of this year and it was truthfully one of the best decisions you had ever made. You had met so many wonderful and kind people during your time there, and most importantly, you had fallen in love. During all the times you had been in the stands cheering for the team, you had gotten accustomed to having your eyes fall to Ushijima, watching the way he moved and played— how his muscles moved under his uniform. Despite only truly speaking to him once or twice, his silent and brooding nature had utterly charmed you, leading you to the situation you were in now, waiting to give him a love letter.

You knew it was a bit of a cheesy thing to do, but you couldn’t imagine actually telling him in person. Your current plan was to slip it into his bag sometime before or after a game, but the idea of going through with it created a sinking feeling of anxiety in your stomach. So, you decided to pick a day, a day where a game was going to happen so he might be in a good mood. But, as each day passed and you got closer to Saturday you felt your choice to do it weighing on you more and more. How was he going to react? Maybe he didn’t even remember you… No, you had to stay hopeful, after all, you had already gotten this far.

The big day had finally come, and you were a nervous wreck. The entire time you were getting into your cheer uniform you couldn’t stop glancing at the corner of the envelope sticking out of your backpack. Thoughts of being rejected previous times by guys in elementary and middle school filled your head, and the more you thought about giving the note to Ushijima the less you wanted to do it.

You finished changing and looked at the clock— only ten minutes until it was time to head to the stadium. You picked up the envelope from the place in its bag and clutched it tightly in your hands. You felt like you were on a spy mission as you made your way through the hallways trying your best to seem unsuspicious. It seemed like everyone was watching you as you made your way to the boys’ locker room and your heart thundering in your chest was the only sound you could hear as you made your way there.

As you got closer to the entrance, the number of people was beginning to dwindle, sending a wave of relief over you. You didn’t want anyone seeing you entering in case word got around that someone had given Ushijima a confession. As the last few people in the hallway were leaving, you made yourself seem very invested in a poster on the wall, keeping an eye out for anyone approaching. Finally, the last person turned the corner and you darted over to the doorway, peeking inside. It looked completely empty, your eyes scanning the bags and towels strewn around the room.

Tip-toeing inside, you nervously looked for the bag with his name on it, finding it in the corner, zipped up and tidy. With shaky hands, you pulled out the envelope, trying to build up the courage to slip it inside. You felt a shiver go up through your whole body and suddenly you whipped around, coming face to face with Tendou Satori who was looming over your shoulder with a surprised sneer on his face. You jumped backward, scrambling to hide the letter behind you, and act natural.

“Whatcha got there?” he said, leaning over you and snatching the letter out of your hands. Panic was the only emotion you felt as he took it from your hands. You didn’t know where he had come from, you thought you had entered discreetly, but apparently you had missed him during your frantic search.

“N-nothing, give it back,” you said, trying to snatch the letter back but Tendou held it just out of your reach with his long arms.

“Is this a love letter?!” he said, peering up at the pink script you had written on the envelope and the heart sticker you had sealed it with. You could feel your face going bright red as regret about your decoration choices filled you.

“Oh-ho-ho, now this is good. This’ll definitely get a kick out of the team, especially Ushijima,” he said, giving you a sly smile, knowing exactly how he was making you feel. You felt tears pick at the corners of your eyes and your lower lip beginning to tremble. You knew Tendou was just saying it to get a rise out of you but the words still hurt. It wasn’t like him to tease other people so much, but the way he saw you guilty standing there, trying to hide your letter made him-- you were just too cute to not mess with.

“Give it back… please…” you said weakly, casting your eyes downward trying to regain your composure.

“Mm? And why should I do that?” Tendou said, finally taking his eyes off the envelope and shifting them to you. You hated the way that a smug expression still adorned his face, you knew that Tendou had a reputation for being a cocky and overzealous guy, which was why you had tried to avoid him any time you could, but now you regretted not gaining some good footing with him before now.

“Please… I’ll do anything,” you mumbled, desperation laced through your voice.

“Anything?” he said, punctuating the syllables as he said the word, “Now that's quite the offer.” He leaned back on his heels, letting out a “hmm,” pretending to think as he slowly waved the letter in the air between two fingers. His eyes shifted down to you again and the way you glared up at him through your eyelashes, clenching your fists at your sides. A smile grew on his face as he watched you, savoring how small and pathetic you looked trying to argue with him.

“I’ve got it. You’re on the cheer team, right? For this game I want you to go out there with no bra or panties.”

The shock was visible on your face as he said those last words. A playful grin was set on his face, but you could see that he was being serious in his eyes.

“You’re kidding… r-right?” you said, feeling your face start to go red again.

“Nope. But it's just one teensy request, I doubt anyone will notice,” he said nonchalantly, “Plus, you said you would do anything.” He still held the letter out of your reach, taunting you with it by waving back and forth, making a twinge of anger go through you.

You weighed your options, you knew you would be mortified if he shared that letter with the rest of the team, and it would probably get out to the cheer team as well making your life hellish, or you could do this. You looked down at your uniform, your skirt coming down to mid-thigh and your shirt only being the slightest bit cropped, no one would notice… right? You took a deep breath and answered, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Fine, now give it back,” you said, lunging for the letter.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he teased, “you’ll get this back later, now hand ‘em over.” He held out a palm and stared at you, shoving your letter in his pocket.

“At least turn around pervert,” you hissed, causing Tendou to let out a chuckle. He luckily obliged and you stepped into a corner while he turned away. You quickly slid your panties down and unclasped your bra, making sure to keep your eyes on him the whole time. Once you had them off, you felt so open and exposed, making you instinctively cross your arms over your chest.

“Here,” you said, holding out your undergarments for Tendou. He snatched them from your hand and went over to shove them in his bag, keeping an eye on you as you stood in the corner of the room. The annoying smile that never seemed to leave his face was still there as he looked you up and down, taking in your exposed form, but you could see an intensity in his eyes that wasn’t there before, making you shiver.

“Alright then, see you after the game,” he said, as he lazily waved goodbye, picking up his bag and bringing it with him. As the door shut behind him it took you a minute to calm down and fully realize what happened.

Panic rose in your throat as you thought about walking out there and cheering for more than an hour. You wanted to sit down and hide in this room until the game was over, but you knew you would have to leave. Walking out there would be embarrassing, but it would only be worse if the team came back after and found you in this sorry state.

You began to walk forwards, legs shaky and unstable-- you felt tears begin to fill your eyes again but you took a deep breath and swallowed, forcing yourself to continue.

Once you got into the empty hallway, you felt more exposed than before. The wide-open space and the bright fluorescent lights above made you feel like you were on display for anyone who happened to walk by. There were only two minutes that remained before the game started, forcing you to pick up your pace as you walked down the hall. You were hyper-aware of the way that your skirt and shirt moved as you walked, making sure that you were keeping covered as you passed by the last few people waiting to head into the gym.

You finally made your way into the stand above the auditorium and joined the rest of your team. As you walked in you were truly grateful for your place in the second row of the group, making it so that you didn’t have to worry about people looking up your skirt. You were finally starting to get used to the feeling of your nipples brushing up against the fabric of your shirt, but the uncomfortable drafty feeling between your legs took a little more concentration to ignore.

Being in such a large crowd of people did nothing to calm your nerves as you waited for the players to enter, constantly checking that the back of your skirt hadn’t flipped up. The whistles blew down below, making you jump in your anxious state. The players filed in, all taking their time getting organized and lined up— you held your breath as you looked at the front, where your head cheerleader was standing, getting ready to start your routine, and you took one more look at the stadium preparing for the long game you were about to endure.

By the time the last point was scored and the whistle blew you wanted to cry tears of relief. The entire game had been a nightmare, each set coming to a deuce and dragging on far longer than it should have. Shiratorizawa had lost in the end, but at this point you didn’t even care, you just wanted to leave.

Throughout the game, you had felt only a constant rush of anxiety. Every jump and cheer and shake had sent waves of worry through you as you thought about all the people standing around you. After the first fifteen minutes of the game, you had gotten used to the weird sensations of not having any undergarments on, but the thought of someone finding out had kept you on edge the entire time.

Being able to sit down and relax felt like a godsend. The rest of the crowd was depressed and complaining about how we had lost, but you hadn’t watched much of the game and didn’t really feel like participating in the pity party.

Once the crowd was starting to dissipate, you rushed down the stairs and back to the boys’ locker room, keeping your skirt down the entire time with your hands. You stood a good ways away from the entrance, so as to not draw attention to yourself, and fervorously scanned the crowd for Tendou. The rest of the team was starting to arrive, including Ushijima, who put your heart in your throat as he walked by, but Tendou was nowhere to be seen.

Finally, when you were beginning to consider running off and looking for him, Tendou stalked by, a tired and annoyed look spread across his features. Once he caught sight of you, standing patiently against the wall, he grabbed your arm and started pulling you down the hall.

“W-wait, where are we going?” you asked, trying your best to keep up with his large stride.

“What, you don’t think I’m gonna give you back your belongings here, do you?” he said in a playful tone, but he couldn’t quite hide the tone of displeasure under it. You kept quiet the rest of the time while he dragged you off into an emptier part of the building and into the bathrooms. You weakly tried to pull away from his grasp, but his grip was tight on your arm as he pulled you around.

A wave of surprise hit you though, when he shoved you into a bathroom stall, locking the door behind both of you. He stood in front of you, hand against the stall door near your head, towering over your small figure.

“You want your letter back right?” he said, staring you down. You quickly nodded your head, beginning to feel uncomfortable, trying to gauge what he was planning.

“You’d be willing to do anything for it right?” he asked, leaning in closer to you to where you could feel his breath against your ear. It took you a second, but you nodded again, this time a little more hesitantly than before.

“How ‘bout you do me one more favor then, hmm?”

“Y-you said you would give it back now though,” you said, shuffling backwards, trying to get away from him in the confined space of the bathroom. His large figure made it hard for you to find any place away from him and you felt your back hit the door as you leaned away. Everything felt very claustrophobic and you felt heat rush to your face from how close he was to you.

He took a piece of your hair between two fingers and began to play with it idly.

“I know, I know, but I think it’s only fair that you do a little more for me, after all, we just lost the game, and I’m in a bit of a bad mood,” he said, a playful smile spreading across his lips again, “plus, seeing you like that the whole time was a little distracting, so if anything you’re a little bit at fault too.” You felt your face begin to burn as the implications of his words hit you and the stall suddenly felt far too small. He shifted his head to look into your eyes, hand coming around to grip your chin and keep you in place.

“Come on baby, just one little favor and you’ll get your letter back.” His other hand came down to your exposed waist and started making its way under your shirt, his fingers drawing playful circles on your skin.

You didn’t know what to say, the urge between getting away and retrieving your letter were warring with each other inside your mind, keeping you frozen where you stood. Having people find out about it would be humiliating, but the thought of having Tendou use you like this was almost worse. You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out, your body refused to act. His stare still bored into your eyes, waiting for an answer, but you couldn’t respond.

“I’ll take your lack of protest as a yes then,” he said, brushing a thumb across your cheek before hiking your shirt up. You felt his lips slam into yours, pinning you against the door in a deep kiss and in that moment everything else seemed to fade away-- all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips invading yours. They were warm and inviting and almost made you feel as if you wanted more, but the rational part of your brain was still screaming for you to run away.

Tendou’s hand moved from its place on your face and slid down to your ass, pulling you into him. Your hands went up between the two of you and rested on Tendou’s chest, feeling the sculpted muscles underneath his shirt. It had been so long since you had been touched like this and your body craved more but remembering who Tendou was and what he was making you do caused you to hesitate. You weren’t sure if you wanted to push him away or not, but you at least kept your hands there to keep some distance between you as your brain scrambled to try and make a decision.

You felt Tendou swipe his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance to the rest of your mouth, and you reluctantly opened your lips to let him inside. He was rough and demanding with his movements, making heat creep down to your core.

The hand that was under your shirt crept up and roughly squeezed your breast and you felt a small noise slip out of your throat as it happened. You knew you were touched starved, but this was absurd, you shouldn’t be enjoying this. Tendou had blackmailed you into those slutty actions during the game, and now he was blackmailing you yet again into this— but you were enjoying it, you were even beginning to reciprocate with your lips and tongue.

Your head was too adrenaline-filled for you to think properly, and no matter how much you tried to concentrate on being rational, the feeling of Tendou pressed up against you with his tongue in your mouth brought you away every time. You could feel his movements getting rougher as he groped you, and he pulled away from your lips, a grin returning to his face as he looked down at you.

“Bend over for me baby, will you?” he said, not giving you a chance to respond before grabbing your hips to help turn you around. You placed your shaky hands against the door and sucked in a breath as you felt his hands slide up your thighs and under your skirt. Your hands felt hot against the cool plastic of the door but all you could feel was Tendou’s fingers creeping closer and closer to the wet heat between your legs, pulling on your skin and spreading your folds.

“Look at you, already soaked and I’ve barely even touched you,” he said, making your face go red. You tried to stutter out a protest, but you knew you were completely guilty. A small part of yourself felt ashamed at the way you were getting wet over Tendou’s touches— you shouldn’t be feeling this way, it was wrong, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted at the feeling of Tendou’s fingers brushing up against your entrance before pulling away, causing you to let out a small gasp. A wave of heat rushed through your body, making your head fuzzy— leaving only the desire for more pleasure in your mind.

Tendou could feel the tent in his pants growing larger as he viewed your supple thighs and ass in front of him. He had thought about this scene so often, thinking about how good you would look bent over for him, ready to take his cock, but he had to stay patient. Both of his hands grabbed your ass to keep you stable before he bent down and gave a slow lick to the inside of your thigh, making you shudder.

You could feel your hands beginning to get slick against the door as you prepared for the sensation of Tendou’s mouth against you. Once you felt his tongue swipe up against your cunt you felt your back arch and couldn’t contain the small whimper that you let out. All rational thinking was out the window and all you wanted was the feeling of him all over you.

The feeling of him lapping at your folds was tortuous, and every time you felt his tongue brush up against your clit it made your legs tremble beneath you. Despite the fact that Tendou could feel your legs beginning to get shaky, he only wanted to see you submit to him more. He tentatively slipped one finger inside of you, causing you to let out a high-pitched whine.

All you could focus on was the stretch of your insides from Tendou’s finger. He had sheathed it inside you suddenly, not letting you adjust to the feeling, and was now starting to rub against that spongy spot inside of you. You could feel your eyes beginning to go glossy from pleasure and you felt like your knees were about to give out. Tendou wasn’t giving you any time to adjust to the sensations and you could almost feel the hungry smirk on his face while he was playing with you.

When his other hand moved down to your clit it almost made you fall to your knees, but he made sure to hold you up, keeping you in your humiliating position for him to view. Almost every time he pushed his fingers into you you had to bite your lip to keep moans from coming out— any more and you didn't think you would be able to hold back.

Tendou let out a small chuckle as he watched you struggle to maintain your balance and keep quiet. He knew that you were in a secluded enough area where you could be loud, but seeing the pathetic attempt you gave only made you look more adorable. Seeing you in such a pitiful state was making it hard for him to keep his patience, but he knew he needed to stretch your tight little cunt out more before he would be able to fuck you how he wanted to.

Tendou slipped a second finger inside of you, making you clamp a hand over your mouth, and began scissoring inside of you, making sure you would be ready to take his cock.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well, you know that right?”

You felt a wave of heat go through you at the praise along with the feeling of your pussy tightening up around his fingers— earning an approving “mm” from Tendou.

“Do you think you’re ready to take me, sweetheart?” he said, beginning to go rougher on your clit, causing you to let out a gasp. You desperately nodded your head and let out a small “mhm,” wanting to have him fill you up completely.

“Come on baby, use your words for me,” he said, stilling his motions until he got an answer from you.

“Y-Yes Tendou, p-please,”

“There you go, see you can do it,” he said, pulling his fingers out of you and standing up. It took all your strength, but you turned your head to look up at him and got to watch as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, greedily sucking off the residue from your cunt. The sight made you clench around nothing and made your head go fuzzy at the thought of him enjoying the taste of you. You eagerly watched as he quickly pulled down his shorts and boxers, revealing his hard cock which already had a bead of precum at the tip.

“W-Wait T-Tendou we don’t have protection!” you said, collecting just enough consciousness to remember basic sex education.

“Shh don’t worry, I’ll pull out,” he said, placing a hand on your ass, rubbing soothing strokes with his thumb. You knew that you shouldn’t continue and that it wasn’t safe, but your pleasure-filled brain didn’t care. All you wanted was to feel him filling you up and stretching your tight little cunt out— you could worry about the consequences later.

The feeling of the tip of his cock pressing up against your entrance was enough to make you whine out his name, begging for more. Waiting was causing you too much agony and you began to buck your hips against him, trying to push him inside you.

“Eager aren’t we,” he said, his voice more strained than before. He slowly began to push his dick into you, causing your eyes to roll back and a needy moan to fall from your lips. You could hear his breathing getting ragged behind you as he got further into your tight cunt, filling you up more than you had ever been before. He was only halfway inside of you by the time he hit your cervix . The pain of having him so deep inside of you was masked by the utter ecstasy you felt from thinking about how much he was stretching you out.

Tendou was leaning over you, one hand gripping your hip while the other was wrapped around your waist pulling you up against him. You could hear his ragged breathing next to your head and the way his breath hitched as he pulled out of you before ramming back in.

He didn’t give you nearly enough time to adjust to his size, and the pace he was fucking you at was ruthless, causing a dull pain to form in your cunt as he began to bruise it. Eventually, though, you adjusted to the feeling of your walls being stretched so far and began to only feel the pleasure as his cock dragged along your slick insides.

You were unable to keep your mouth shut and had resorted to letting it hang open, allowing all your moans and whimpers to fall out. Your hands were beginning to slip against the door as Tendou continued to rail you and you scrambled to keep supporting yourself.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight… so, so tight, just for me…” Tendou mumbled, his eyes shut tight trying to concentrate on not cumming inside of you. The way you felt around him was better than he ever could have imagined. He had to make sure you came before him, he wanted to cum with you so badly— he needed to feel your walls flutter around his cock as you moaned his name.

“How does it feel, sweetheart? Does it feel good? Tell me it feels good. I wanna hear you say it,” he rambled, his movements becoming more sloppy as he continued to fuck into you. His hand moved down to your clit and began to roughly play with it, causing you to tighten up around him.

“I-It feels so good Tendou mm- I-I love it so much,” you whined, only halfway aware of what you were saying.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this for so long. I’ve been interested in you for so long too— but you only want him, you only want Ushijima don’t you, you fucking slut.” His words mixed with his harsh tone confused you as you tried to decipher the meaning of them. It was so hard to think with him pistoning into you like this, making you go loopy.

“Tell me that you love me, not him, I wanna hear you say it so badly,” he said, his fingers digging into your hip, sure to leave bruises.

You weren’t sure why you said it, but it slipped out of your mouth before you could truly think about it, “I-I love you Tendou, I-I love you more than anyone else.” Those words were enough to bring him right to the brink of orgasm, making him have to fully concentrate on fucking you as hard as he could to get you to cum first. The combination of his fingers rubbing your clit in tantalizing circles and the feeling of him ramming into your womb was what caused you to finish. You felt the tension in your stomach snap and you let out a loud moan as your walls spasmed around him. You heard Tendou mutter a string of curses, trying his best to remain calm and in control.

“Fuck, baby you’re so tight, I don’t know if I can pull out,” he said, his grip on you digging into your skin. In your fucked out head the thought of having him cum inside you was almost too much— despite your safety you wanted to feel it.

“P-Please, please cum inside me, please I want it so badly,” you moaned out, not even processing what you were saying. Even though he knew he should pull out, hearing your cute little voice beg for him to fill you up was too much for Tendou, making him ram into you a few more times before cumming with you. You could feel his hot cum spilling into your pussy and dripping out the sides, making your legs weak.

As you were both coming down all that could be heard was the heavy breathing from both of you echoing in the bathroom. Tendou pulled out, letting the mixture inside of you begin to drip out. He held you tightly, making sure that you didn’t fall over or hit your head on the door in front of you.

You felt so worn out once you came down from your orgasm. The only thing you wanted to do was to lay down next to him but you knew you couldn’t in such a confined space.

You slowly moved your arms, trying your best to maintain your balance as you turned around to wrap your arms around his neck. You both sat down, and Tendou cupped a hand behind your head, running his fingers through your hair. The thoughts about Ushijima and blackmail had completely left your mind and the feeling of him beneath you, strong and warm, was the only thing you wanted to focus on.

After a few minutes Tendou broke the silence, tilting your head up to look at him, “So, do you still want your letter back?”

You scowled at him, receiving a small laugh before you nestled back into his chest, ready to fall asleep.

#haikyuu!!#tendou #smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyu fic #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendou fic

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quirkysubject · 3 years

Text

I started reading Pamela Des Barres "I'm With The Band - Confessions of a Groupie" and... Haha, wow 😄

She starts out as Beatles fan as a teenager, and she's head over heels in lust/love with Paul McCartney. Although her experiences are from a different age (almost 60 years ago, no internet), there are so many parallels to how bandom still works, I had to write them down.

There's the "I'm English now"-thing...

Hello Diary, Paul, you are gear. Really Fab. Say chum, why are you so marvelous, luv? The most bloomin’ idiot on earth is me, cause I’m wild over you chap.

(this is the writing of a 14-year old American girl)

...the worry over her beloved's love life...

He’s NOT, He’s NOT!!! Brian Epstein sent a cablegram to Columbia Records to announce; Paul’s getting married is completely and ridiculously untrue . . . Brian Epstein. YAY!!!! There’s no queen for my king YET!

...and an unabashed obsession with crotch shots:

I collected Beatle bubble-gum cards, and one of them was a shot of Paul playing his bass, sitting on a bed in a hotel with his legs apart. You could actually see the shape of his balls being crushed by the tightness of his trousers, and I carried that card around with me in a little gold box with cotton covering it like it was a precious jewel. I peeked into it reverently, once a day, and lifted the cotton gently, holding my breath as I stared between his legs at the eighth wonder of the world.

She Role-Plays with other fans...

I played John and myself, and [Linda] played Paul and herself. We could switch personalities with the flick of an accent. We took each other to parties and concerts, we ate dinner in gorgeous restaurants on Aunt Edna’s patio, and professed undying love with semiperfect working-class Liverpudlian accents. At night, we played all four people at the same time, when we would lie entwined in each other’s arms, pressing our four sets of lips together in an eternal expression of Beatle Love.

...and they write spicy reader fic for each other:

Paul fell across you, pushing you into the soft bed. His tender lips kissed yours passionately. You felt so good, so right, to be this close to Paul. He whispered into your ear, pausing to kiss your cheek or your neck, “Luv, oh Pam, you know as well as I do what comes next. . . .” You drew his lips to yours, ending his sentence. [...] Stumbling through the dark living room, to the bedroom, Paul quietly opened the door. There you lay. Your blonde hair tossed carelessly, but beauteously over the pillow, your pink lips still wearing the smile they had as you fell asleep. Paul thought he had never seen anything quite so luscious . . . or so tempting.

She makes NSFW fanart (and brings it to work)

I brazenly created in pink and red oil colors my concept of what his balls might look like. I turned it in to Mr. Gifford as a modern-art project and got an A.

Now, the balls in question are Mick Jagger's, since she has now moved on from Paul. Which leads to:

She gets called out for her problematic behaviour:

Dear Pam, I suppose you are wondering why Linda, Stevie and I acted the way we did after school yesterday. The main reason is because you are a phony person. You had better watch out before you become completely friendless. Why on earth could you even start to like Mick over Paul? [...] I thought I knew you real well, you were always so enthusiastic about the Beatles and now you’re a Rolling Stones fan. I don’t see how you could pick them over The Beatles unless . . . you were being a phony all that time.

Her reply:

I have very sensible answers to your ridiculous questions. Paul and Mick cannot be compared. They are two opposite types with two opposite types of love connected with them. I have not taken the Stones over The Beatles. I have just let them become a part of my life too. Is that so wrong? The Beatles can never be topped, but the Stones will never be topped either. Oh, you don’t understand. They play two different types of music. They cannot be compared.

Oh, the discourse! 🙏

Of course, she then goes on to actually meet Mick Jagger (and his balls), so that's where her experience differs from most fans 😄

#fandom through the ages #pamela des barres #beatlemania

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luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Theory into Practice

☼ Pairing: Yoonji x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), teeny bit of angst, f2l, college au (technically more so grad school au)

☼ Count: 10.2K

☼ Warnings: 18+, drug use (pot), mentions of alcohol use, threesome, dom!Yoonji, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, teasing, dirty talk, one thigh smack, thigh riding, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), face sitting, unprotected (pls stay safe), aftercare

☼ Summary: A normal night in with Yoonji leads to some interesting revelations with her and surprisingly, Jungkook.

☼ a/n: lmao it’s been a while. Hope you enjoy the Yoonji thirst, my girl doesn’t have enough fics out there. Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~

———

“Who of our friends do you think is the subbiest?”

You blink. It’s really a testament to how much you and Yoonji have smoked tonight that your immediate reaction isn’t to splutter at her question. Instead, you just blink slowly, the question slowly making its way through your synapses before you can articulate a response. You take another hit, using it to buy yourself a little more time. Holding the joint back out to her, you let the smoke slowly seep from your lips.

“Who says I’ve thought about it?”

You know exactly who you want to be subbiest. But you’re not going to reveal that. Maybe not yet. You might be high, but you still have enough of your wits to keep from spilling things you want to keep hidden. You’ve had good practice at that, smoking often with her and never divulging your crush, even when the topic of partners has come up. Which does come up fairly often as you both attempt to navigate dating while in grad school.

There’s a snort from the other end of the couch and Yoonji’s head lulls against the back of it so she can fix you with hazy, unimpressed eyes, though there’s a smirk just barely tugging at her lips. “I didn’t. But we’re talking about it now.”

Pursing your lips, you think of how to respond. In truth, you’ve thought about it a little, but not particularly in relation to your whole group of friends. Maybe just a person or two who you were particularly interested in that are in said friend group. Most notably, the women sitting on the other end of the couch from you currently.

Yoonji laughs, foot kicking out to nudge you, and you grin at the flood of happiness that always accompanies hearing her laugh. “Damn, it’s not that deep. Why are you thinking so hard?”

Catching her foot, you dig your thumb into the sole of her foot, causing you both to dissolve into giggles. “We have a lot of friends,” you shoot back. An excuse and you both know it.

You and Yoonji have been friends for too long for you to really be able to avoid answering a direct query. It’s only been luck that has kept your crush hidden from her. You’ve been friends since you met in 2nd year of undergrad, paired randomly as roommates and then continuing to remain roommates until even now when you live off campus in an apartment together. And many of your friends have come together and you both now share a common friend group.

Once Yoonji wrestles her foot free of your tickling grasp, she shifts in her seat, face far more serious than the topic at hand should really call for. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept your excuse,” she gives you a look that’s hard to interpret, though you mostly just don’t want to think too hard about the calculating look she’s giving you. It leaves you feeling exposed, like she can read your thoughts and knows all of your deepest secrets. Which is partially true, you and Yoonji share everything, save your feelings for her. “Which way do you think Jimin goes?”

She’s really going to make you do this? Well, you might as well give some actual thought to this. “With his praise kink? Definitely more sub leaning?”

Yoonji raises an eyebrow. “Leaning?”

“Well yeah. He’s definitely a switch. You’ve seen how he is when he’s focused. But he also likes helping others. Plus,” you pause, mostly just to be dramatic as you smirk knowingly, Yoonji leaning closer as she waits for what you’re going to say next, “Siyeon said he’s as good a dom as he is a sub.”

Scoffing, Yoonji reaches over to give you a little shove. “That’s cheating!”

You giggle, catching her hand before she pushes again. “It’s not!”

“It is! That’s insider information! This is supposed to be our opinion.”

Waving her off, you settle back onto the couch. “I gave my opinion. I would’ve had that before Siyeon told me. All she did was confirm.” You pause thoughtfully for a moment. You don’t want this to be all you, so you pose the next friend to her instead. “What about Seokjin?”

Yoonji drums her fingers on her bare thigh and you have to fight the urge to get lost in staring at the vast expanse of smooth, exposed skin she’s subjecting you to tonight while you’re impaired like this. You want to know if they’re as soft as they look. You know her hands aren’t, not anymore since she started learning guitar, finger’s growing rough and calloused. The first time she had held your hand after had startled you, now you love feeling the slight roughness brush against your skin. Dragging your gaze from her fingers to her face, you watch as she starts to speak, trying to remain focused on her words and not the way her pretty pink lips form them.

“As much as I’d love to say sub because he would be just absolutely gorgeous all tied up and begging. I think he’s a bit more dom-ish.”

Mulling it over for a moment, you nod. He likes caring for all your friends, you can certainly see that transferring over into the bedroom. You add, “Yeah… But like, a soft one, ya know? He’d be so gentle and caring about it. I bet his aftercare game is amazing.”

Shifting, Yoonji stretches her legs out and echoes your thoughts. “Definitely. You’ve seen the way he cares for all of us, but definitely the younger guys. He’d be so amazing at that. What about Taehyung?”

“Hm, a dom. Maybe a little less gentle than Seokjin, but still a soft-ish dom. Namjoon?”

“Dom leaning switch. Sometimes he just really needs to get out of his head and let go of control. Hoseok?”

“Straight up switch. I think he probably doms more often but he’s all too happy to go with whatever his partner is in the mood for. Jungkook?”

Yoonji’s face lights up. “Oh,” she coos. “The sweetest sub ever.”

You stare at the way her eyes seem to glaze over with her words and something like jealousy swirls with heat in your belly. You can’t tell if the spike of jealousy is about the way she sighed her answer so sweetly, like she’s thought a lot about this. Or if it’s because you have the same thoughts and some part of you feels possessive over Jungkook. “Why’s that?”

She shoots you a coy smile that leaves you feeling slightly uneasy. “He’s just such a sweet boy and always so eager to please.”

You can’t deny that you’ve also thought that, dreamed that were true. You’ve heard rumors of how Jungkook is in bed. Domineering, cocky, rough. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining him beneath you, whimpering and begging. Yoonji nudges you and you blink at her, realizing that you must’ve zoned out for a moment. She purses her lips, barely hiding her knowing smile.

“One more,” she declares.

Frowning, you think through your shared friends, but can’t imagine who she might be referring to. “Who?”

Her answering smirk has your heart stuttering in your chest, equal parts dreading what’s about to come out of her mouth and anticipating. “Me.”

You swallow. She’s really going to make you answer that to her face? While you’re both high? You chew your lip, looking her over slowly. You know exactly how she leans, the benefit and downside to living together for so long. The words stick in your throat though, not quite able to bring yourself to voice your knowledge. To give yourself away like that, to show just how much you’ve paid attention. Yoonji says nothing though, looking at you expectantly as she waits for your answer.

Taking a deep breath, you rationalize that this is just a game. You’re just giving opinions. It doesn’t have to be incriminating to anything deeper. You just won’t give reasons, just an answer which way she leans. “Dom.”

She grins, looking pleased with your answer. “You too.”

“What?” you blink at her, confused by what she means.

“I think you’re a dom too.”

Your breath catches. You hadn’t thought about the fact that if you knew her preferences then she likely knew yours well. You’ve both talked about your sex lives with each other, but you’ve never delved deeply into what happens when you’re in your room with others. Staring at each other, your mind races. How much has she heard? How much does she truly know? Her gaze drops to your lips for a moment.

But before the conversation can go any further, there’s a knock at the door. The tension that built between the two of you suddenly breaks as Yoonji crows happily, jumping from her seat to go retrieve the food you’d ordered. Burying your face in your hands, you take a few deep breaths, trying to get your thoughts under control. You really can’t be sitting here, high and horny and thinking about Yoonji and Jungkook. Especially not while one of those people is sitting here with you.

By the time she’s back with food, you’ve got your tangled thoughts mostly controlled and the previous conversation isn’t brought up again. Yoonji complains about something Namjoon did while they were studying earlier in the day and then you’re both complaining about school and theses and classes and thoughts on doms and subs is forgotten about entirely. And you’re all too happy to just forget it happened at all.

At least for the most part. You can’t help it if in the late hours of night, when exhaustion reigns and sleep eludes you, if you let your thoughts slip to less pure things as you hand slips into your panties. If when you’re alone, you think of you and Yoonji knelt over Jungkook as his big, shiny eyes shine brighter with overwhelmed tears and begs his noonas to let him cum. You don’t let it leave those times though, left in the dark and forgotten in the daylight hours. You ignore the thoughts when you go to lunch with Jungkook, have dinner with all your friends, go grocery shopping with Yoonji, let yourself act as if that conversation never happened.

You assume Yoonji has forgotten it too. Or at least chosen to leave that conversation with that night.

Until you come home from buying snacks one night for the weekly smoking session to find Jungkook there too. Which in and of itself isn’t too strange. While you and Yoonji are the primary partakers of this night, all of your friends rotate in and out when the mood strikes. Most of the others usually go out drinking. Or study. And everyone rotates between the three activities with whatever strikes their mood (or is required by their grades).

But Jungkook had said earlier in the day that he was going out with Tae and Jimin. He’s not even dressed for it, like he was just stopping by for a moment and then going to meet up with the others. Instead dressed comfortably in loose gray sweats and a matching sweatshirt, his blond hair still slightly damp from a shower under the hood he still has pulled up.

You give him a smile as you set the snacks on the coffee table and move to sit on the couch. “I thought you were going out to drink?”

Jungkook shuffles from foot to foot nervously, glancing from you to Yoonji, who’s sat on the other side of the couch. “I uh… changed my mind?”

You frown, unsure of his odd behavior. He’s acting as if he’s never been to your apartment before, despite the fact that besides the two of you, he’s here the most. But Yoonji simply beckons him to sit, which he does so after a moment of hesitation, nervously tugging his hood off his head. Once he sits, you expect Yoonji to pull out a blunt and get the night started, but the silence stretches and she makes no moves to do so. You reach out to nudge her, head tilted questioningly.

She gives you a quick glance before looking at Jungkook. “I have a proposition. For you both.” Brows furrowing, you’re about to question her when she continues. “Your noonas have a little theory they’d like to test.”

Your heart stops. There’s only one possible thing she could be talking about that would involve both a proposition and a theory that you both had. Is she just planning to ask him? But that wouldn’t involve a proposition…

Oh.

She’s planning to ask him to let you both dom him. Stomach knotting uncomfortably, you worry that this could ruin the friendship the three of you share. That it could ruin the entire friendship dynamic of the whole group. You could lose a roommate, friends. But even with the bad scenarios running through your mind, you can’t deny the bolt of heat that sears straight to your core at even the barest hint of possibility of getting the pretty boy before you underneath you instead.

Jungkook swallows, gaze darting from Yoonji to you and back. You wonder what Yoonji said to him to get him to come tonight. “What… What’s the theory?”

She gives a soft smile, but there's a predatory edge to it. You’ve seen it on her when you’ve gone to bars and clubs, wielded against unsuspecting people that she wants to spend the night with. You’ve seen the effects of that look on people and Jungkook is no different, already looking like he’s hooked on her every word, even if there’s still a touch of nerves in the tense line of his shoulders. She gestures for Jungkook to move from the chair to sit between you both on the couch. He hesitates before shuffling the short distance to sit where directed. You can’t help but note that he’s good at following instructions. It makes something hot twist in your belly.

Yoonji shifts, kneeling on the cushion so she can press closer to Jungkook, close enough to whisper in his ear, though her tone is loud enough for you to hear too. “Your noonas have a theory that you are just the sweetest little sub ever.”

Jungkook tenses up at the words, and though it’s hard to tell if it’s from discomfort or just shock at Yoonji’s bold statement, you slide closer to be a reassuring hand to counterpoint Yoonji’s boldness.

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, Jungkook, just tell us. We don’t want to cause you any discomfort, okay?” you murmur soothingly, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Yoonji peaks around to give you a grateful smile, although you’re unsure if it’s because you are joining her in her proposition or if it’s because you know enough to ensure that Jungkook’s comfort is the most important thing here.

Thinking for a moment, Jungkook gives a small nod and Yoonji takes that as her sign to continue. “Would you let your noonas find out if they’re right?”

“B-both of you?” he swallows, gaze darting between the two of you.

Leaning closer, you let your lips brush his ear, relishing the shiver you feel run through him. “Your noonas have seen the way you look at them when we dance together on nights out.”

He stiffens beneath you and you pull back just enough to see the flush starting to color his cheeks. In truth, you know he’s not the only one that does. Jimin and Taehyung fairly regularly comment on how you both steal the show. And you and Yoonji aren’t blind, you know the way you both captivate an audience when you’re together, dressed up and putting on a show just for the thrill. But you’ve definitely caught Jungkook staring the most. Eyes hooded and lips parted like you and Yoonji are there solely for his entertainment. The way you’ve seen him have to restrain himself from approaching the both of you. It’s even more thrilling than the eyes of strangers on you.

Yoonji coos. “Do you like watching your noonas together, baby?”

She doesn’t allow him a chance to answer though because as soon as the question has been asked, she’s nudging him back so he’s more reclined, leaving the two of you staring at each other over his chest. A moment passes, where you just stare at each other, as Jungkook looks between you both.

There’s a wry twist to her lips and then she’s reaching out to pull you in for a kiss. The sudden press of her soft lips to yours has your brain short circuiting. All thought and reason leaving you, focus narrowed entirely down to the pressure of her mouth on yours. She tastes like strawberry and the sudden, lightest brush of her tongue across your lip has your brain kick starting again just as she starts to pull away. That simply won’t do. Hand tangling in her hair, you keep her close, keep the kiss going as you deepen it and you relish the slick slide of her tongue against yours.

You’ve imagined kissing her so much, but it’s nothing compared to reality. Yoonji is demanding, just as demanding as you are, and there are moments where the kiss turns a little rougher as one of you tries for the upper hand. It’s addicting, the feel of her, the rush, that you get lost in the kiss. So much so, that you entirely forget about Jungkook beneath you until he lets out a soft whimper. Pulling away from Yoonji, you both glance down at him and you nearly coo at the sight. He looks much like he does on nights that you’ve caught him watching you dance. But up close like this, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his tongue darts out occasionally to lick at his pink, bitten lips, how blown his eyes are already and he hasn’t even been touched yet.

Disentangling yourself from Yoonji, you run an affectionate hand through Jungkook’s hair. “Do you want this, baby?” When he starts to nod again, you tighten your hand in his hair, halting his movement. “We need your words, Jungkook.”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, eyes darting down in embarrassment before trying again. “Yes, noona. Want this… Want you both…”

Pleased, you let your hand drift down, cupping his cheek and thumbing gently along his cheekbone. “Yeah? Have you thought about this a lot? Have you thought about your noonas often?”

Swallowing, his gaze darts between the two of you nervously. And oh, you had just been teasing. But the nervous flit of his gaze, the way he won’t focus on either of you for longer than a moment. He has thought about the two of you. You wonder what he’s thought about, for how long. Has he touched himself while thinking about one of you? Both of you? Yoonji seems to pick up on the implication of his nonanswer too, because her lips are curling into a teasing smirk.

“Have you, baby? What a naughty boy. Thinking about your noonas like that.” Jungkook squirms, mouth open like he’s about to protest the statement, but Yoonji continues speaking. “Noona has too. Thought about how pretty you’d look and how good you’d be.”

Jungkook falters, blinking big eyes up at Yoonji with wonder. Like he never imagined that either of you would think of him the way he thinks of you. A breath shudders out of him as his eyes squeeze closed. You make the decision to move this from the couch if you’re going to go through with it.

Shifting, you push yourself to your feet, glancing at Yoonji to see that she follows your actions with a questioning furrow to her brows. Jungkook blinks his eyes open at the movement, blinking up at you both. You hold your hand out and after a moment, he takes it. Pulling him to his feet, Yoonji grabs his other hand and takes charge in leading Jungkook down the hall to her bedroom.

The air in Yoonji’s room feels thick with heat. She flips a light on, letting soft, purple light fill the room and leaving it cast in subdued shades. You both release Jungkook’s hands, moving in near perfect synchronicity despite the fact that you’ve never done this before. There’s something unspoken that moves you both together. Standing side by side, you both face Jungkook, gazes slowly trailing over the younger man. He shuffles on his feet under the scrutiny, hands clasping in front of him like he’s a child about to be scolded.

Yoonji’s head tilts, finger coming up to tap her chin in thought. “Something seems wrong here, doesn’t it?”

Humming, you nod in agreeance. “Yes, yes it does. Jungkook,” the boy starts at the call of his name, head jerking up to stare at you, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Yoonji snaps her fingers. “You’re right. Jungkook, baby, strip for your noonas.”

“N-now?” His fingers twitch where they’re clasped before him.

It’s cute how shy he has become. You’ve seen him shamelessly strip his shirt off at parties to do body shots, confidently pick up women at bars, boldly barge into rooms and capture everyone’s attention. You’ve only seen him this shy once, and that was when you all had first met him, before he had come out of his shell and grown close to you all.

When he makes no move to start undressing, you speak up. “Jungkook,” you wait until he’s looking at you. “Do you know the stoplight system?” He thinks for a moment before nodding, face clouded with confusion. “Color?”

Gaze darting from you to Yoonji and back again, his tongue peaks for a moment. “Green.”

Yoonji grins proudly at the answer. “Aw, are you just shy then, baby? Nervous about being naked in front of your noonas for the first time?”

Ducking his head, Jungkook gives you both a quick nod that you just want to coo over, however inappropriate that reaction may be right now be damned. Instead, you shoot for comforting. “How about we start slow then? Just your shirt. You can do that, can’t you, baby? We’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times before.”

Jungkook fidgets for another moment before his fingers grip the edge of his baggy sweater. Eyes squeezing shut, there’s only only a second more of hesitation before the sweater is being pulled up and off. He clings to it, the fabric hanging in his hands in front of his chest, but doing very little to hide anything. He peaks an eye open and sees the way Yoonji quirks an eyebrow at him and the sweater drops from his hands to the floor.

You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless plenty of times. Your entire friend group has. There was a period of a few months back towards the beginning of your friendship after he had gotten comfortable with you all that you would’ve sworn that he was allergic to shirts with how often you saw him shirtless. You know how toned he is, have been subjected to his ridiculous workouts on occasion, how diligently he works out simply for the fun of it. Muscles that shift under golden skin that you’ve seen at parties and on beach trips, that you’ve allowed yourself to glance out, appreciate and take in, but never to stare for too long and get caught.

Now though, you drink your fill of the sight before you. Jungkook is tall, and when he’s shirtless he exudes a cockiness born from the hungry looks of others; his posture always making him seem taller, take up more space. But now, now his shoulders are hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, seem less big even though his muscles make that nearly impossible.

He glances up at you both through the curtain of blonde bangs and you can see the way the flush from his cheeks starts to spread down his neck and chest. It makes you itch to mark the pretty skin up, stake a claim on the sweet, shy boy before you.

There’s a pleased hum from beside you. “Such a good boy, Jungkookie. You’re so good for your noonas, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, eyes positively shining at the praise. Well, you both certainly pegged that one right. Oh, now there’s an idea. That might have to wait though. You don’t want to completely overwhelm him right at the start.

“Now the pants, baby,” you grin, watching the way he swallows at the command.

Hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the waistband of his sweats, his nerves seem to grow now that he’s about to be fully exposed before you both. He takes a deep breath and then shoves his sweats and underwear down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat and you know Yoonji must be having a similar reaction given the sharp inhale you hear from her.

Jungkook is absolutely stunning naked. You’ve known that his thighs were thick and just as toned as the rest of him, catching glimpses of the thick, corded muscles whenever he ditched sweats and his baggier clothing for jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto him. His hands immediately come together again in an attempt to cover his cock, already hard and leaking. But his hands do little to cover his long, thick cock, but it’s endearingly adorable that he tries.

“So pretty,” you murmur, eyes tracing over every inch of skin. You don’t know what you want to do first to him, so many ideas flash through your mind as you stare at him.

“So good, too. Can you lay down on the bed for us now, baby?”

Shyness seemingly forgotten for a moment, Jungkook nearly launches himself onto the bed, landing with a little bounce before he’s shuffling around so he’s stretched out in the middle of Yoonji’s bed. His eagerness is a good sign, showing that even if he’s nervous, that he very much wants to be here. The dark bedspread makes his skin seem to glow more and he looks absolutely gorgeous spread out for you.

Yoonji moves closer to the bed and you move to follow suit and stand beside her at the foot, both of you just taking a moment to look at Jungkook. His cock twitches where it rests against his belly and heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that it’s yours to touch. At least for tonight.

She turns to you then, hands landing on your hips to pull you closer. Chewing her lip for a moment, there’s an emotion that briefly flits across her face but before you can pin down what exactly it is she’s leaning in to press her lips to yours once again. Not letting yourself dwell on her expression, at least not now when there’s a very eager boy spread out for you both and Yoonji’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You can overthink later. Right now, you should just let yourself fall into the feel of her.

Her fingers dig into your hips and you let her get away with it only because you take the opportunity to slip your hands beneath her shirt, gripping her waist just as tightly for a moment before you’re tugging her shirt up and off. Kiss momentarily broken, you take the brief pause to look her over. Her bra is black and lacy, pushing her breasts up in a way that makes you want to get your mouth on them . You also know for a fact that it’s her ‘getting laid’ bra. Meaning she must have been pretty confident that the two of you would agree to this. You’re a little mad that she didn’t give you any sort of heads up to let you wear something better than just a comfy, colorful bra you use for daily wear. At least it’s cute.

Leaning in, you nip harshly at her bottom lip in retaliation and you know by her giggle that she knows exactly what it was for. What a cruel tease, you’re definitely going to get her back in the future. You don’t know how just yet, but you will. You sooth the bite with your tongue, but you don’t get a chance for another proper kiss because Yoonji takes the opportunity to tug your shirt off as well. She pulls away after dropping your shirt to the floor, hungrily eyeing you up as her tongue wets her lips. You feel a heady rush at being able to pull such a look from the typically collected Yoonji.

A moan pulls your attention back to the bed, where Jungkook has taken it upon himself to start lazily stroking himself, muscles shifting as his hips flex up into his grip. Exchanging glances, you and Yoonji quickly rid yourselves of your bottoms before climbing onto the bed on either side of Jungkook. This behavior simply won’t do.

Sitting on your knees beside his thigh, you're quick to let your hand smack against the skin there. The sound echoes in the quiet room and Jungkook jerks, though you don’t know if it’s more from the sudden sound or the heat that blooms across his thigh even if the smack you gave him was fairly mild in terms of punishment. But it has the desired effect, his hand halting on his cock, though he doesn’t remove his hand from himself. His expression morphs into a mix of betrayal and confusion.

“Oh, sweet boy,” Yoonji coos, hand wrapping around his wrist. “Have you ever done this before?”

Swallowing, he looks nervous again, gaze darting around the room, but never landing on either of you before he minutely shakes his head. Yoonji gently pulls his hand from his cock, letting it slap wetly against his belly.

“Aw, you poor thing. Have you always had to be the one in charge, huh? Do those girls see your big, pretty muscles and tattoos and just assume that you’re going to be domineering too? No one’s ever taken care of you like you deserve?” Yoonji murmurs, eyes burning as she speaks.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as he blinks up at Yoonji. He shakes his head slightly and you can see how deeply he wants this. Wants to try, to let go and have someone else take control for once. Letting your fingers trail up his thigh, you trace a single fingertip up his cock with a featherlight touch, drawing a delightful gasp from him. He’s so sensitive to touch, it’s going to make this so much more fun.

“Lesson number one, baby. No touching without permission. That includes your pretty little cock. Bad boys get punished.”

“And punishment can get much worse than a little slap on the thigh, sweetheart.”

His eyes widen. “I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t know!”

Shushing him, you rub soothingly at the red mark you left on his thigh. It’s light and fairly small, a testament to how tame the smack was, but it makes you want to leave more, make them darker. Marks that remain for days, that remind Jungkook of your hands on him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re still learning. You won’t be punished.” You smirk teasingly. “This time at least.”

Licking his lips, he looks between you both. You can tell he’s thinking about something, but you can’t tell if the thought of punishment might actually be enticing to him or if he’s trying to figure out the rules without being told. Always the overachiever.

Yoonji releases his hand, letting it fall to rest against the bed once more. “We’ll go easy on you, baby, don’t worry. You’ll be a good boy for us, won’t you?” Jungkook nods quickly, hands clenching at the bedspread. “What do you want, baby?”

“Want…” he licks his lips, seems to think slowly over his wants in this moment. “Wanna see you kiss again.”

You giggle. “Aw, sweet thing,” you glance over at Yoonji, “doesn’t even want a kiss for himself.”

Yoonji tsks, wide grin matching yours. “Someone must really enjoy watching.”

Planting a hand high on Jungkook’s thigh, Yoonji mirrors your actions as you both lean closer to meet over Jungkook once more. This kiss is slow, you take your time and enjoy the feel of her soft mouth against yours. You could easily get lost in the kiss again, it would be so easy. Jungkook’s thigh twitches beneath your hand and you give him a small squeeze, acknowledge that you haven’t forgotten about him and it draws a soft moan from him.

The sound seems to spark something in Yoonji, as she surges closer, deepening the kiss. Her free hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw. Not wanting to be outdone, you reach out and let your fingers trace her collarbone before following her sternum down until you can palm at one of her covered breasts. That draws a soft gasp from her that you greedily swallow down.

Her hand tightens on your neck, pulling like it’s possible to pull you closer and her other hand abandons Jungkook’s thigh to grope at your breast. You both get greedy for the feel of each other. Your hand quickly leaves Jungkook’s thigh as well, slipping behind Yoonji to undo her bra. It falls slack on her shoulders, hindered from coming off by her hands on you. Bumping her hands off for a moment, you tug the offending article free from her and toss it off the bed. Yoonji wastes no time in getting her hands back on you once you’ve removed the bra and you’re now free to palm her tits in your hands.

Jungkook whimpers below you both, his hand bumps your thigh before it’s being jerked away. “N-noona…”

Parting with a gasp, you both look down at Jungkook, his hands fisted at his sides, knuckles nearly white. Your hands fall from each other as you give the prone man your attention. You’re impressed with his restraint, you hadn’t expected him to be so well behaved the very first time. But that’s actually pretty typical of Jungkook, excelling at anything he tries.

His pupils are blown with lust and he swallows his nerves as he speaks. “C-can… Can I touch too?”

“You wanna touch your noonas while they kiss, baby?” Yoonji asks. He nods, eyes wide and Yoonji’s answering smirk is bordering on mean. “Why?”

“W-what?”

“Why do you want to touch your noonas while they kiss, baby? I thought you just wanted us to kiss and touch each other?”

He looks to you, seemingly lost by the question. But you simply raise an eyebrow and wait for an answer. He squirms a little, cock twitching. “Um… I… I…”

“Have you thought about touching us before?” you murmur, reaching out to cup Yoonji’s breast, thumbing at the nipple and drawing a sigh from her. “Have you thought about noona’s pretty tits and how they’d feel in your hands?”

Whining, Jungkook nods his assent eagerly, eyes fixed firmly on where your hand plays with Yoonji. Yoonji presses a quick kiss to your lips, casting a teasing look to Jungkook before she’s reaching up to unclasp your bra and tug it off of you to toss it behind her. Yoonji raises herself up onto her knees, pulling you with, and she leans you both together until your breasts press together. They’re just as soft against you as they were in your hands. If you weren’t focused on teasing Jungkook, you’d pin her down and get your mouth on them.

She glances to the side to look at Jungkook. “How do you wanna touch, baby?”

His eyes drag down your bodies slowly, gaze darting so quickly like there’s so much he wants to touch and he doesn’t know where to even begin. “Noona…” he whines.

You chuckle. “Aw, baby. Do you need your noonas to help you?”

“Please.”

“Put your hands on our hips.”

He’s eager and quick to comply, hands coming up to rest hot and heavy against the curve of your hip. His fingers flex against you, like he wants to move his hand to touch more but they remain in place. Yoonji leans in to kiss you again and you think you could kiss her forever. After a moment, you break the kiss, trailing your lips along her jaw and down her neck. Laving your tongue over her pulse point, you relish the shiver that runs through her. You’re overcome with the urge to mark her and so you let your teeth sink into her skin before soothing it with your tongue and sucking kisses. Yoonji groans in the back of her throat and you move down her neck to suck another dark mark and draw more noises from her.

You know logically that she’s been as affected by all this as you, but hearing the proof is intoxicating. It goes straight to your pussy and the longer you go on, the more you feel drip from you to soak your panties.

“What do you want next, baby?” Yoonji pants, hand reaching to cover the hand on your hip. His gaze drops to where your breasts are pressed together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you wanna touch noonas’ tits? Greedy boy,” she chuckles breathlessly, ending in a gasp when you nip at her collarbone.

His hands twitch against you like he is fighting the urge to just do what he wants, to do what he’s always done with women. But he remains diligent and keeps his hands where he was told too. Pressing one last kiss to Yoonji’s neck, you pull away, staring at the darkening marks while a possessive heat curls in your belly. You shift then, nudging Jungkook’s thighs slightly apart and then you’re throwing a leg over to straddle his thigh, dropping down to press your clothed pussy against the corded muscle. The damp material drags deliciously against your pussy and any other time, you would ride his thigh until he was begging you to touch him or let him touch.

Gasping, Jungkook’s hand tightens enough to bruise and you grin down at him. “Can you feel how wet noona is for you, baby?”

He nods a little dazedly, looking down where you’re pressed against his thigh like he can’t believe what he’s feeling or seeing. Giving a little grind, you feel a rush of desire run through you at the breath that rushes from Jungkook’s lips.

“Baby,” you purr, “didn’t you want to touch noona’s tits?”

“Please…”

“Go ahead, baby.”

His hand quickly abandons your hip once he’s given permission; big, warm palm cupping one of your breasts like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. You have to fight down the urge to giggle at the unexpected tenderness. Yoonji moves beside you, straddling Jungkook’s other thigh and she takes the opportunity to move Jungkook’s other hand for him, placing it over one of her breasts.

Gaze darting from one hand to the other, his hands remain frozen for a long moment before he’s tentatively squeezing. Then he quickly grows more confident, seemingly more familiar with at least this part as his fingers tease at your nipple. Leaning slightly to the side, you press a kiss to Yoonji’s shoulder until you have her attention and then you’re pressing your lips to hers once more. Letting your hand slip into her hair, you tilt her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand lands on your waist, fingers tracing a burning path down until they can grope at your ass.

Your hips jerk, clit dragging across Jungkook’s thigh and a moment later, you feel his muscles shift as he flexes. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you glance down at him with a smirk. Jungkook looks perfectly debauched beneath you both. The flush dusting his cheeks stretches down his chest, his bright eyes burn with want as his hands work on both you and Yoonji. His cock rests heavy against his belly, tip dark with neglect, but he seems wholly oblivious to it even as your attention zeroes in on it.

“What a good boy you’re being. Giving noona something to grind against?”

His dick twitches at that and you let a finger brush gently down the length. A loud gasp leaves his lips, hips straining upward but he can’t get very far with the combined weight of you and Yoonji pinning his legs down. You give a deliberate grind down, Jungkook’s eyes quickly zeroing in on where your clothed pussy meets his bare thigh. Hands falling still on your breast, he licks his lips before his hand is slowly sliding down to timidly tug at the waistband of your panties.

“Can… Can these come off?”

Yoonji hums. “Wanna see noona’s bare pussy, baby?”

Nodding quickly, he looks up at you both with wide eyes. “Yes, please. Wanna see.”

The hand on your ass slides around to rest just on the waistband of your panties. “You wanna see just how wet our pretty baby boy has made us?”

Breath shuddering, he nods again, eyes trained on Yoonji’s hand as it finally slips into your panties. You groan as her fingers slip between your folds, fingertips teasing across your clit before dipping lower to gather your wetness. Before she can do much more than leave a few teasing touches, she’s pulling her hand from your panties and holding her hand up for you all to see. Jungkook’s gaze bores into the glistening digits, licking his lips slowly.

“Open,” she commands and his mouth falls obediently open, hope shining in his eyes when her fingers inch closer to his lips. “Do you want to taste noona?”

“Yes,” he breaths out, tongue extending like it’ll get Yoonji’s fingers to his mouth faster.

She stops just before she reaches his tongue and when he strains closer in an attempt to touch, she pulls her fingers away, keeping them teasingly just out of his reach. “Answer noona’s question first, baby. Good boy’s always answer when asked a question. And you wouldn’t want to be bad, now would you?”

Blonde hair flies as he quickly shakes his head no. “No! I’m good! I promise! Please, I wanna taste noona!”

Yoonji’s smile softens. “What a good boy.”

With that, her fingers press against his tongue. Moaning, Jungkook’s lips close around the digits as he sucks enthusiastically. You wonder if he’s as enthusiastic when he’s eating someone out and your pussy clenches at the thought. A few moments later, she pulls her fingers free and Jungkook’s lips purse in a pout, drawing a laugh from both of you. You shift, finally tugging your panties down to discard over the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes are drawn back to your pussy, now bared for him to see.

His hand twitches where it rests against your hip, but it doesn’t move and there’s a rush of heat that accompanies the fact that he’s doing so well already. Turning to Yoonji, you begin to tug at her panties, earning a laugh from her as she moves to help you get them off of her.

As much as you want to take in Jungkook’s reaction to you both being naked before him, you can’t stop the greedy part of you that reaches out to slip your hand between her legs to touch. A soft sigh leaves her lips and you can’t help but lean in to smother the sound with a kiss. Your fingers find her just as wet as you are yourself and you relish in the moment to tease your fingers along her pussy.

Whining, Jungkook squirms beneath you both, thigh inadvertently bumping your hand harder against Yoonji and further smearing her wetness across your palm. You pull your hand away and Jungkook follows the movement with laser focus.

“Want to taste your other noona, baby?” you tease.

“Yes, please,” he murmurs.

Biting your lip on a smile, you move your hand slowly closer to his open mouth, watching the way his eyes light up with excitement. But before you reach his lips, you stop, drawing a pretty pout from the boy. Then you wink and you quickly bring your fingers to your own mouth instead. Twin gasps greet the action as you slip two fingers into your mouth and moan at the taste of Yoonji on your tongue. Your eyes slip closed as you suck your fingers clean and when you pull your fingers free and glance down to Jungkook, you’re met with a look that is equal parts jealous and hungry.

Hand dropping to the bed beside him, his eyes widen as you lean over him. “Still want a taste, baby?”

His gaze darts to your lips as he nods. You seal your mouth over his, taking advantage of the surprised part to his lips to slip your tongue in. He whimpers, hands coming up to rest on your hips as he chases the taste of Yoonji on your lips.

Kissing Jungkook is nothing like kissing Yoonji. He’s like putty beneath you, following your lead where Yoonji fought you for control, kept you on your toes. Not necessarily aggressive, but Yoonji kisses you with a consuming hunger, burning you from the inside out. Jungkook is like a breath of fresh air, he’s soft and needy, making these quiet little huffs with each brush of your tongue. You wonder if he realizes that he’s moved his hands, that he’s touching you when he’s not supposed to be, but you decide to let it slide just this once. You’re much more interested in drawing out more of those sweet, little sounds from him.

A moment later though, his hands are being pulled away and Yoonji is tutting him as she leans against you to pin his hands to the bed. “Naughty boy, what did we say about touching?”

With a whine, he pulls away from your mouth. “‘M sorry... “

You snicker. “Is noona so good at kissing that you forgot the rules, sweet thing?”

Jungkook lets out a low whine again. “Noona.”

Yoonji shifts against you, hands adjusting her grip on Jungkook’s wrists and you’re momentarily distracted by the press of her breasts against your back. Pressing again, she forces you to drop fully against Jungkook as she hooks her chin over your shoulder.

“I’ll just have to hold you while noona kisses you, hm?”

He squirms beneath you and you see him strain feebly against Yoonji’s hands. You all know that he could easily break her hold; that the strain he shows is feigned and exaggerated. But his acquiescence to her grip, to you both taking control, is the most telling thing to his desires. He wants this, just as much as you both. Even if he’s new and inexperienced in this aspect, he wants.

His lips part with small huffs and you can’t help yourself when you dip back down to kiss him. He squirms again before melting entirely into the kiss, letting Yoonji hold him still while you lick into his mouth. A heady rush fills you at his pliancy, you always imagined him submitting, but it was nothing like this. Jungkook behaves like he’s been subbing for you both for ages, like he knows the routine, that the momentary lapses in following the rules is nothing more than being a little bratty to provoke a reaction.

The kiss stretches, you don’t know for how long, getting lost in the feeling of Jungkook beneath you and the softness of Yoonji’s breasts pressing into your back. Jungkook’s hips twitch, his cock brushing wetly against your side and you finally decide to have some mercy on him. Lifting slightly, Yoonji gets the hint and sits up fully, allowing you to do the same. You smile at the way Jungkook is laid out, eyes lidded, lips kiss swollen and flush sitting high on his cheeks. He looks fucked out already and barely anything has happened yet.

Taking Yoonji’s hand in yours, you lift it to your lips to press a soft kiss to the palm. “I think it’s time to reward our baby, hm? He’s been so good for his first time.”

Her fingers brush your cheek as she smiles. “He does.” She turns her attention back to Jungkook. “How do you want your noonas, baby?”

Swallowing, his gaze flicks back and forth between the two of you. He takes a long time to answer, seemingly nervous. “I… I don’t know… I’m s-sorry…”

“Aw sweetheart, there’s no need to be sorry. You’re just overwhelmed, huh?” He nods, lips pursed in a pout, and you continue. “Do you want your noonas to pick something for your reward for you?”

“Yes, please… There’s too many things… I can’t pick…”

You pat his side affectionately. “It’s okay, baby. Noonas will take good care of you.”

His eyes shine at your praise as he nods eagerly. You and Yoonji exchange looks and seem to be thinking the same thing as you move off Jungkook’s thigh to move further up the bed and Yoonji shifts to fully straddle his hips.

Yoonji grins as she sees the way Jungkook follows your movement. “Ever had someone sit on your face, baby?”

Eyes widening, his gaze darts to Yoonji before turning back to you and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t answer. “N-no…”

“Pinch my thigh if you need to stop for any reason, okay, baby?” You wait for him to murmur a quiet ‘okay’ before moving to throw your leg over his head.

You feel his breath hot against your wet folds and when you glance up at Yoonji, you see her focus is trained where you sit just above Jungkook’s mouth. With a lick of your lips, you lower yourself until your pussy presses to Jungkook’s mouth, which instantly falls open, tongue darting out to lap at your slit. Groaning, you grind against his tongue, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy the pleasure sizzling in your belly.

Then you’re reaching up for Yoonji, grabbing her hips to tug her until she’s hovering over Jungkook’s cock. One hand slides from her hips and you let your fingers trace lightly along her slit, knuckles brushing his cock as you do.

You hold Yoonji’s gaze as you begin speaking, fingers dipping between her folds to tease at her clit. “Gotta get noona ready for you, baby. Get her nice and stretched for your big, pretty cock.”

Jungkook whines against you and Yoonji lets out a low moan as you slip a finger into her. Yoonji is warm and wet and tight around your finger and your breath stutters as she clenches around the digit. Letting your finger curl, you rub against her walls, searching for that spongy bundle of nerves.

It takes a few seconds, your attention being pulled by Jungkook’s tongue as he enthusiastically eats you out. But you find it quick enough, signaled by the sharp gasp that leaves her lips when you finally brush against it. Grinning victoriously, you tease at the bundle until her thighs begin to quiver, pleased to have wrung such a reaction from her.

Her hand darts out suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly. Her gaze is dark when it meets yours and she arches an eyebrow at you. “I think you’re enjoying yourself more than getting me ready for our baby,” she teases.

Your body heats. She’s not wrong, you maybe did forget what you were doing a little bit. Grinning, you slide your finger out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in with two. “Guilty.”

She opens her mouth to speak again but you let your thumb brush her clit and it effectively silences her retort. She glares for only a moment before letting her head fall back with a groan and letting herself enjoy the slow pumps of your fingers.

Slipping a third finger in, Yoonji’s hips start to move, little grinds that push your hand against Jungkook’s cock. You lift your hips slightly, giving Jungkook a moment to breath.

“Are you ready for noona to ride you, baby?” you ask as you pull your fingers from Yoonji.

All you get in response is a whimper as you grasp his cock with your wet fingers, other hand settling on Yoonji’s hip and you guide him to her entrance. You give her hip a squeeze and she lets herself drop, pulling your hand away so her hips can settle flush to his. You can feel Jungkook’s breath panting hot against your pussy, his hands squeezing tightly at the sheets.

“How does noona’s pussy feel, baby?” you murmur. He whines and you give his nipple a pinch, making his hips jerk. “When noona asks a question, she expects an answer.”

“‘M sorry… Noona feels good…”

You let your free hand settle on Yoonji’s other hip. “How’s he feel?”

“Fuck… so good. He’s such a good boy.”

Jungkook’s hands suddenly wrap around your thighs. You jerk in surprise, ready to reprimand him, but before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back down onto his mouth. Yoonji laughs breathlessly, hands coming to rest on his belly as she starts to lift her hips.

“How’s his mouth?”

Giving her a groan in response, you grind against his tongue, toes curling as his fingers tighten against your thighs. Both of you fall quiet, save for pants and moans, letting yourselves be consumed with chasing your own pleasure for a moment. Heat simmers in your belly, building with each swipe of Jungkook’s tongue and teasing suck to your clit. Jungkook’s efforts combined with the view of Yoonji riding his cock has your orgasm building until one harsh suck pushes you over the edge.

Head falling back, you moan as your orgasm spreads through your veins, igniting like fire and leaving you shuddering as Jungkook seems to get even more enthusiastic below you. You vaguely hear Yoonji swear under her breath, but you don’t have it in you to look at her as Jungkook draws your orgasm out.

Finally you lift your hips, overstimulation beginning to creep in, and you and Jungkook pant together as your high slowly ebbs away and you come back to yourself. Blinking your eyes open, you see Yoonji’s have slipped closed as she moves and you find your gaze glued to the way her tits bounce with each movement.

Seeing an opportunity, you reach forward, letting your fingers find her clit and her eyes shoot open with a gasp at your touch. You grin, shifting so you’re knelt beside the pair. “Baby,” you coo, “look how pretty noona looks sitting on your dick.”

It takes him a moment, but Jungkook’s head lifts and your pussy clenches at the sheen of your slick covering the lower half of his face. His lips are parted as he makes sweet, little noises, soft moans and whines, and his hazy eyes trail over you both like he doesn’t truly know where to look. You swirl your fingers, drawing a wheezed gasp from Jungkook and you can’t help the teasing grin that forms.

“Aw, baby. Did noona tighten up? Is she close? Are you gonna be good and let her cum on your cock?”

Jungkook’s nodding before you even finish speaking, hips twitching in small little thrusts and you pick up the pace on her clit. Leaning forward, you take one of her nipples in your mouth, teeth teasing the bud before you sooth it with your tongue.

“Fuck… gonna-” She cuts off, moving faster until her hips slam down as she starts to cum.

You keep your fingers going, gradually slowing down as her orgasm shudders through her. Jungkook whines and squirms beneath her, but remains more still that others would. She tugs your hand away finally as she continues to shiver with aftershocks. You bring your fingers to your mouth with a teasing glance and lick them clean as she watches through hooded eyes.

Jungkook whimpers, drawing both of attention to him and Yoonji lifts herself off his cock, drawing an even louder whine from him.

You pat his side soothingly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna take care of you. Want your noona’s mouth?”

He blinks wet eyes at you both, cock twitching where it lays against his belly and Yoonji laughs. “I think that’s a yes.”

She takes him in her hand and his hips strain up into her grip. He’s so desperate already and you have barely even teased him or drawn this out. He’s definitely going to be fun in the future. Leaning down, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, licking up the taste of Yoonji and Jungkook together. They taste wonderfully divine. His hips strain upwards again and you and Yoonji each use a hand to hold his hips down as you continue your slow, teasing licks. Once you’ve licked all traces of Yoonji from him, you take him into your mouth, humming in content at the way he stretches your lips.

“‘M g-gonna… please… please can I?”

“Aw, you’re asking permission? You’re such a good boy. Of course you can cum, baby. You’ve been so good to your noonas.”

It takes only a couple bobs of your head for his back to bow as the first spurt of salty fluid hits your tongue. He cries out, body strung tight as he cums down your throat. You let your tongue rub at his frenulum as you and Yoonji work to draw out his orgasm as long as possible. When he begins to tremble and whimper, you finally pull away, licking your lips clean as you do.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut tight, shuddering through the last aftershocks and he looks beautifully debauched. Glancing at Yoonji, you see the same fond look on her face that you know to be on yours. Leaning down, you pepper a few kisses to his lips and cheeks before stretching out beside him and cuddling up to his side.

“You did such a good job, baby. You were so good for us,” you murmur, letting your hand rub his belly.

Yoonji mirrors you and after a moment, halts your rubbing by interlacing your fingers with her. The look on her face is hard to read, but she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“The best baby,” she agrees, turning to Jungkook and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Jungkook gets a goofy grin, seeming to melt between the both of you at the praise. At the rate he’s going, he might have a bigger praise kink than Jimin. You all fall silent, breath evening out and simply enjoy the afterglow. You assume Jungkook at the very least has fallen asleep as your mind begins to swirl with the implications of what just happened.

Leave it to your overthinking to ruin a nice postcoital cuddle. But you can’t help but wonder where this leaves the three of you. Was this just a one time thing? Does it mean anything deeper? You want so badly for it to mean more, but you also know that getting your hopes up leads to more hurt in the end.

Jungkook surprises you by breaking the silence, voice rough like he’s fighting sleep. “What does this mean?”

He sounds so small when he says it, it makes your heart ache a little. You’re not sure how to answer him though, because you also don’t really know what this means. You know what it means for you, but you can’t speak for Yoonji, or even Jungkook.

Yoonji pushes up onto her elbow so she can look at you both and you see that same fond look in her eyes again. It makes something warm and content twist in your belly. “I thought I had made my intentions clear, but I guess not. I like you.” Before the hurt you feel can stretch too far, she looks at you. “Both of you. I had intended to get that done first tonight. But, uh, well things got a little carried away.”

Jungkook snorts. “Only a little?”

She pulls her hand from yours, giving him a quick pinch. “Hey! Don’t go getting mouthy now.”

Grinning in response, he wraps his arms around you both, tugging you somehow closer. “I like you both too… I have for a really long time…” he pauses, seeming to think for a moment before continuing. “And I really liked tonight… What we did… I’d like to explore more of that…”

They both look at you and you can’t help the giddy grin that spreads across your face. You push yourself up just enough to lean across to give Yoonji a kiss and then turn to give Jungkook one too. “Of course I like you both. God, who couldn’t? You both are so wonderful.”

Jungkook giggles happily and then in the blink, he’s managed to get you and Yoonji pushed together as he hovers over you both. He gives you each a kiss to the forehead. “So does this mean you’ll be my girlfriends?” Laughing, you give him a nod and he glows with happiness. “I have the prettiest girlfriends.”

You and Yoonji both reach up, each cupping one of his cheeks. Warm floods you, feeling happy and content with them both.

“And we have the prettiest boyfriend.”

#bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #yoonji x reader #yoonji smut #yoonji fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts smut

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newtonsheffield · 3 years

Note

Hiii i absolutely loved the epilogue, sooo cute and funny and the ending 🥺 but now i have this teeny tiny question if you don't mind how do you imagine the night of the Formal if Katie had actually gone with someone else? like I just know jealous baby Anthony will be so funny, sorry i know that would be like an au of an au of an au (lol) but i just loooove fics with dances because i don't get any of those where i am from

I'm so glad you enjoyed the epilogue of A Letter That You Never Read! I really had no idea when I posted that story that people would like it quite so much but... I guess you guys did?

Anyway I would be more than happy to share with you a tiny taste of Jealous teenage Anthony, quietly brooding away in the corner. @missfairygodmother was also interested in seeing Baby Anthony get a little green eyed over Kate

In this AU of an AU of an AU

Anthony had been nervous all afternoon, well, for weeks, months actually, as he'd tried to pluck up the courage to ask Katie Sheffield if she would go to the formal with him. But every time he'd been around her, he just couldn't choke out the words. She always seemed so far above them all, distancing herself from the mundanity of teenage life, sitting in the corner of the cafeteria quietly reading a book while idiots hit each other with the dinner trays around her, her eyes rolling slightly as she walked past them. So he hadn't done it.

But he'd found himself considering what she would like, when he picked out his suit. Her backpack was green, was that her favourite colour? Would she like it if he wore a tie that colour? What flowers would she like to see on his buttonhole? Roses? or tulips or peonies or something else completely?

"Why don't you ask Katie to go with you?" His mother had said gently as they'd stood in the store and the woman taking his measurements had asked what his partner was wearing. "She doesn't want to go with me, Mum." He'd mumbled, more than a little embarrassed, deeply regretting the incidents that had caused her to become aware of his futile crush. "Did you ask her?" He shook his head "She barely says anything to me, Mum. She doesn't like me back." And his cheeks had burned with shame His mother had sighed, "I don't suppose it's occurred to you that she might also be too nervous to say anything?" And while Anthony had scoffed, he'd desperately hoped that she was right, even though he knew the very last word that would ever be used to describe Katie Sheffield was nervous.

Be'd told himself, as he got ready, that when he got there, and he saw her, he'd ask her to dance. He would, he would find the courage somehow. And he would tell her that his heart wanted to beat out of his chest whenever he saw her, that he thought she was beautiful and smart, and funny and he wanted to know her. He'd arrived and loitered nervously in the corner of the school gymnasium and then he saw her, and his heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest.

Kate had walked in, heartbreakingly beautiful, her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, just like always, her glasses abandoned for the night, which made Anthony frown a little, but that wasn't why his heart broke. No, she was arm in arm with someone else. She paused at the doorway, listening to something her annoyingly handsome and square jawed partner said, her face breaking into a wide smile as he finished. Anthony felt something white hot rip through his chest seething at the back of the other boy's head as they walked further into the room.

Whoever he was, Anthony had never seen him before, but he looked older, a little more mature, and Anthony hated him. Petulantly despised him, almost as much as he despised himself for not asking her. She already has a boyfriend you idiot, of course she does, because you're a fuckwit and she's incredible.

He stood stock still in the corner jealousy tearing through him for god knows how long, wincing as he saw her boyfriend smile down at her, his fingers lightly brushing the flowers at her wrist. Roses Anthony noted, despising the pink tulips currently on his buttonhole. "You could have just asked her yourself you know. She's here with him because he actually asked her." Simon's voice said gently, as he followed Anthony's line of vision as Katie's boyfriend laughed. "Fuck Off Si." Anthony spat out, hating the truth of it, unable to stand in the room another minute he swept outside ignoring her completely as he past, leaning against the side of the building his chest aching.

"Anthony? Are you okay?" Of course she was here. Standing just a few feet away from him, the green of her dress shining in the soft lighting, an Amy Shark song, Adore playing in the background he realised a little belatedly because of course it was. "Yeah, fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He said, ignoring the lump in his throat. "Are you having a good time? Your boyfriend seems nice." Her brow furrowed just a little, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "You just looked kind of upset." Her voice was so soft, her eyes so concerned that right here, in this moment, it was so easy for him to pretend that she felt the same way he did. But she didn't. "Freddie's nice, we always have a good time together." Katie and Freddie. They even had matching names, his stomach churned while his chest burned with jealousy, and he instantly felt sick because he was making this so much about himself, when he should have been glad to see her happy.

Anthony nodded. "You look really nice tonight, Katie." He couldn't help himself. Her eyes widened for a second before she smiled. "Thanks, it's amazing what happens when a girl takes off her glasses right?" "It doesn't have anything to do with that." Anthony said sharply, his eyes catching hers. Surely she knew how beautiful she was. Silence echoed between them for several moments before "Katie?" A male voice called out softly, Freddie appearing seconds later. Katie smiled at him when he arrived, and Anthony's stomach churned again. He wondered for one wild moment, what it would have been like if she never came, if he never came, then he could have gone on pretending he had a chance forever.

"Sorry, Mate, I don't think we've been introduced, Freddie." He said turning towards Anthony, his hand outstretched. Anthony stared down at it for a second and then gritted his teeth. "Freddie this is Anthony." Katie said lightly and Freddie did the oddest thing, his eyes widened, a smirk on his face as he looked between them. "Anthony, I'm so glad to meet you!" He said, suddenly overflowing with happiness. Anthony felt his brow furrow as Katie ducked her head embarrassed. "Mate, I wonder if you could do me a favour, I hurt my leg at Rugby this week." Of course he's a rugby player, Anthony thought savagely. "And I think someone ought to dance with Katie." Anthony's heart stopped. Katie looked nothing short of aghast. "Freddie!" She hissed angrily, nudging him "Anthony, you don't have to,- I'm not- Freddie I'm telling my Mum on you!" Anthony's brow furrowed again, he was missing something here, something he couldn't quite place but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity. He cut across Freddie's "Please, Auntie's not going to do-" "I want to dance with you!" Katie's head nearly shot off her shoulders as it swivelled towards him. Anthony felt his hand ruffle his hair nervously, cursing himself. "If you want to... dance with me that is." He couldn't breathe as her eyes flicked over his face, more than a little guarded until she said.

"Okay. I'd like that." Anthony felt his face break into a bright smile, his heart pounding in his chest as he tugged her back though the doors, leading her to the dance floor, his heart pounding as she wrapped her arms a little awkwardly around him, standing so lose he could count the tiny line of freckles on her nose. Content silence between them as the music swelled in the background. And then everything came slipping from his chest. She was so close he just couldn't help it.

"I really wanted to ask you to come tonight. And I'm sorry, I know it's not fair because you're with Freddie, but I've liked you for a really long time and I can't let you go away to University thinking don't care about you." He was breathing a little heavily by the end of his speech, the warring emotions that had been playing on him all night finally getting the better of him as Katie stared at him, dumbstruck. Anthony let his hands drop. "And now i've made you uncomfortable, I'm really sorry. Sorry." God he had to get out of here, tears were pushing at the back of his throat, clouding his vision, and then her hand caught his. "Freddie is my cousin!" She said, all in a rush, "Well, my step mum's second cousin's son. But I had to bring him because I didn't have anyone else and I was too nervous to come by myself but I really wanted to see you one last time and-" Anthony couldn't help himself, his heart was beating out of his chest as he leaned towards her, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say with his lips on hers.

Her lips were soft against his, unmoving for a moment, before her hands tugged him more tightly against her, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. There was a small smilie on her lips when Anthony pulled back, a broad grin on his own. " I've wanted to do that for a really long time." "Was it worth the wait do you think?" "Abso-fucking-lutely." Their lips met again with a small giggle, and even though Anthony had just said the most embarrassing thing he possibly could have said after kissing a girl, he really couldn't bring himself to care.

#a letter that you never read #aus on aus on aus #teenage! kathony #anthony is a jealous little bean #kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #molly's asks and answers

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sapphosthoughtsandwritings · 3 years

Text

Hungry Eyes - Bucky Barnes x insecure!Reader

Warnings: insecure thoughts, slight body dysmorphia

Type: fluff, song fic

Word Count: ~2.1k

A/N: this is one of the first fanfics I’ve ever written (we don’t speak of my middle school fics I wrote), so I hope it turned out okay! I of course had to use this song for Bucky ;) I’m always open to feedback!

---

It's not just an end one

That's not the mambo

Looking in the mirror, the curves of your body were illuminated by the dress you’re wearing for another one of Tony’s parties. You were never one for parties or big gatherings, but Natasha had somehow roped you into attending this one. How? Well, she knew your biggest weakness: a certain man with a metal arm. You’d had a daydream in mind for a while: a night to dance with Bucky, slow and romantic; you were a sucker for cliche things. But why would he like someone who looks like you?

It's a feeling, a heartbeat

Ga-gonk, ga-gonk

Close your eyes, ga-gonk

Don't try so hard

You entered the limo waiting outside the tower, face starting to flush as your thoughts began to bombard you. ‘Why did I ever choose this dress in the first place? It doesn’t flatter me at all. How bad do I look? Is my makeup too much? Does my body even look okay?’ It all was becoming too much, your eyes swelled with tears, heart beating faster with your increased anxiety, but it was too late to turn back now. You’d just have to suck it up. Hopefully you could avoid seeing Bucky and just hide out in a corner, alone. You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the car stop, signifying that you had arrived, your heart now sinking to the bottom of your stomach.

I've been meaning to tell you

I've got this feelin' that won't subside

You exited the limo, silk dress falling softly at your sides, a stark contrast from your hands that rested clenched at your side. Taking a deep breath, you walked through the tall glass doors of the luxurious ballroom. The room was gorgeous, shining brightly with white marble floors, gold accents along the walls and windows, several chandeliers hanging from the obscenely tall ceiling, illuminating the room in a heavenly glow. You hoped the beauty of the room would distract your teammates from your own looks. Pushing your way through people, you glanced across the room to a large, stainglassed window, and in front of it was no other than your crush. If your cheeks weren’t red before, they sure were now. Your clenched hands now starting to sweat, heart beating even faster. ‘Gods, I hope he doesn’t see me, I hope he doesn’t come over here.’ You could handle watching him from afar, but if he came over to talk, oh you’d surely make a fool of yourself, which would only feed into your anxiety more.

I look at you and I fantasize

You're mine tonight

You meandered around for a few minutes, chatting with people here and there, occasionally peaking over at Bucky. Taking your gaze away for a few minutes, you made your way over to one of the bars, sitting down in a rather uncomfortable, backless stool, looking over the different drinks the gala was offering. Combing a hand through your hair, sighing deeply, you ordered a shot of whiskey, knowing you’d need something strong to get you through the night. Quietly thanking the bartender, you took a sip of the golden drink, feeling the sting deep in your throat. It helped ease your anxiety, but your mind never stopped imagining what it would be like to dance so close to him, to feel his warmth, a comfort you longed for so deeply.

Now, I've got you in my sights

With these hungry eyes

One look at you and I can't disguise

Bucky took another sip of his champagne, trying to look engaged in the conversation that was happening, when really, his attention was focused on you. Quick glances your way turned into minutes of staring. You completely enamored him. He thought you were beautiful in every possible way: how your eyes light up when you’re passionate, the softness of your skin, the way your voice sounded like honey, the gentle aura that always surrounded you, he could go on forever. He absolutely loved you. But how in the world was he supposed to tell you that?

I've got hungry eyes

I feel the magic between you and I

“You know, if you don’t ask them out, I might just have to do it myself”, Natasha said, bringing Bucky out of his thoughts and back to the conversation at hand. “You wouldn’t”. “Try me”. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temple slightly, knowing Natasha was serious about her offer. Shuffling his feet a couple of times, he set his glass down on a nearby table, then made his way over to the bar you were at. He could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. ‘Nat’s gonna pay for this one’, he thought to himself. Watching you tilt your head back to take another shot of your whiskey, his mouth became dry. How was it that you made just drinking look so beautiful? “Hey doll, mind if I join you?” Your heart skipped a beat and you jumped slightly. Looking up at him, you were lost for words, feeling your body heat increase immensely. “Oh, uh sure!”, you gave him a soft smile. He returned it, sitting in the barstool right next to you, allowing you to breathe in his cologne.

I want to hold you so hear me out

I want to show you what love's all about

Darling tonight

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, not wildly uncomfortable, but the nervous tension was palpable. You finally got the courage to turn your head slightly and get a better look at him. And oh lord, did he look a hell of a lot better up close. Long hair slicked back, a dark, almost black, red suit, with a lighter red tie to match. The suit must have been tailored to him, it fit his muscles too well to not be. Bucky caught your gaze, and you quickly looked back down at your drink, hoping he didn’t notice. As the next song started playing, the atmosphere in the room changed, and Bucky let out a soft gasp. You glanced at him again, his face now lit up with joy. “What is it?”, you quizzed. “This was a popular jazz song in the 40s, one of my favorites actually”, he smiled happily, turning his full attention to you, cheeks lightly dusted pink. “You think I could have this dance, doll?”, he asked, hand outstretched to you.

Now, I've got you in my sights

With these hungry eyes

One look at you and I can't disguise

You swore your heart stopped beating. He wanted to dance, with you? It was almost too good to be true. But Bucky wasn’t the type to joke about these things. You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as you gently placed your hand atop his much bigger one. “Of course you can”. He bit his lip slightly, wrapping his hand around yours, leading you to the middle of the dance floor. His metal arm dipped to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. Having a soft grasp on his bicep, you let him lead, as you both started swaying to the song.

I've got hungry eyes

I feel the magic between you and I

I've got hungry eyes

“You know, you look gorgeous tonight sugar”. Lifting your gaze up to meet his, he looked at you with a certain glimmer in his eyes. Sucking a breath in, your grip on his bicep tightened a little. “You really think so?”, your voice was quiet, somewhat doubting what you just heard. His face crinkled a little, looking at you with a bit of disbelief. “Of course I do. I don’t think my eyes would lie to me sweetheart”. You were sure your face was as red as his suit now. “Thank you, you look pretty good yourself”. He chuckled lightly, intertwining his flesh hand with yours. “Well thank you, doll”.

Now I've got you in my sights

With those hungry eyes

Now, did I take you by surprise?

Without thinking too much, you placed your head on his chest, sighing contentedly. This was perfect, a scene straight from your dreams, you could live in this moment forever. Bucky pulled you in closer, if that was even possible, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. He kissed the top of your head, as the world around you faded away, it was just you and him. You heard him breathe deeply, as he dipped his head down closer to your ear. “Would you believe it if I told you that I’d had this exact moment in my dreams so many times?”. You licked your now chapped lips, gazing up at him. “I would, cause I’ve dreamt of this so many times too”. You saw him smile, as both of you stopped dancing momentarily.

I need you to see

This love was meant to be

The world seemed to slow around you two, his flesh hand travelling up your arm, finding its place under your chin, tipping your face upwards. Your breath caught in your throat, your now free hand gently grasping the overcoat of his suit. His tongue traced his bottom lip, icy blue eyes boring into your own, his thumb tracing just below your lip. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”. You swallowed thickly, your head feeling hazy, you nodded. “Yes, yes you can”. Within an instant, he closed the gap between the two of you, rough lips melding against your own. Your right hand went from his bicep up to the back of his neck, while your left pulled him closer by the jacket. Turning your head slightly, you deepened the kiss, feeling his metal hand tighten its grip on your hip.

I've got hungry eyes

One look at you and I can't disguise

I've got hungry eyes

You both continued kissing, slow and gentle, until someone nearby cleared their throat. You pulled away reluctantly, finding Tony being the culprit of ruining the moment. “If you lovebirds keep making out, can you at least not do it in the middle of the ballroom? Get a room at least”, he raised an eyebrow, looking amused with himself. Bucky sent him a glare, letting out a frustrated huff. You giggled at his frustration, grabbing his right hand. “C’mon Buck, I’m sure there’s a balcony or somethin’ more private in this place”, you said, dragging him towards the edge of the ballroom. His features changed quickly, mesmerized by your form as he followed behind you.

I feel the magic between you and I

I've got hungry eyes

Walking around with him, you found a hallway leading away from the party, and at the end of it, surely enough was a pair of French glass doors leading to a balcony. Bucky picked up his pace, skipping a bit so he could open the door for you. “After you, sweetheart”. You giggled, feeling your face flush for probably the hundredth time of the night. “And they say chivalry is dead”. He smiled proudly, following after you into the clear night air. You walked to the railing, elbows resting on the cool metal. Looking up at the star lit sky, you breathed in deeply, feeling yourself relaxing in the comfort of finally being alone with Bucky. He circled around to your left side, leaning on his side against the railing to look at you. “It’s beautiful out tonight, isn’t it?”, you said quietly, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. Bucky hadn’t stopped looking at your face, chin resting on his hand, giving you the sweetest heart eyes ever. “Not as beautiful as you”.

Now I've got you in my sights

With the hungry eyes

But did I take you by surprise?

You rolled your eyes at his cheesy remark, but you couldn’t shake the smile that remained on your face. Turning to face him, you placed your hands on his chest, looking up into his eyes. “So, does this mean we’re, like, a thing now?”, you asked, feeling the nerves in your stomach return. He wrapped his arms around you, brushing some of your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your face. “I sure hope so doll”. Leaning down, one hand in your hair, the other around your lower back, he swooped you into another kiss, this one more passionate than the first. Your arms wrapped around his neck, smiling into the kiss, feeling your worries transform into butterflies fluttering throughout your body. God, you could definitely get used to this.

With my hungry eyes

I'm dizzy, hungry eyes

Now, I've got you in my sights

With my hungry eyes

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honeypirate · 3 years

Note

Honey, as a fellow All Might simp, I send you this request. I've had a rough couple of days. Please gift me the most tooth rotting fluff you can provide of our sweet Toshi

Okay love you bye!!!!💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Okay okay I love love you thank you for this!! I struggled with many ideas and ended up with this so I hope you like it!!

Toshinori Yagi/All Might x Reader

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Your relationship with him started off complicated, you were mainly work acquaintances who occasionally did hero work together, but the rest of the time you found yourself around him resulted in embarrassing moments.

Almost every day you passed him in the hallway, but once you bumped into him when he was carrying a box of something, you laughed awkwardly and went to step to the side, smiling a little when he did the same thing. When you both stepped to the side again you laughed, the next time it happened you shook your head with more laughter “okay okay” you say and place your hands gently on his shoulders before slowly leading and turning in a circle with him “there we go” you say and he laughs “sorry about that” he says and you shake your head “no worries” after that instance you developed a major crush on the symbol of peace which makes the rest of the awkward interactions that much more painful.

One day when you were late to your class you rushed out the door of the teachers apartments only to hit him in the face with the door, effectively giving him a nose bleed. “I’m so sorry All Might!” you say as you fret over him, you wish you had something to give him for the blood, you tried to give him your jacket for it but he refused. “Oh god is your mouth bleeding too?! I feel terrible!” “my mouth isn't because of you! It just happens sometimes!” he says quickly, chuckling awkwardly “aren’t you.. Uhh aren't you late for class?” he says, holding his nose with his hand, and you gasp, swearing under your breath you bow deeply to him “I am so sorry All Might please forgive me!” before taking off again down the classrooms, kicking yourself for making the man you had a big fat crush on bleed.

Later that week you were in the cafeteria with Midnight, you were chewing on your lip as you stared across the room as All Might got something from Lunch Rush, Midnight was talking about something but you weren’t paying attention, you were too focused on the symbol of peace and how you could make it up to him for giving him a nose bleed.

You brought your cup to your lips to take a sip “why are you staring at All Might so hard?” Midnight says right next to your ear, she had leaned over to you to see who you were staring at that had you so entranced, All Might looks over when he heard his name just at the moment you accidentally spit your drink all over. “Shut up!” you whisper hiss at her and she chuckles as she hands you a stack of napkins. You clean up your mess and then cover your face with your palms as you groan. “Tell me” she says and you sigh before dropping your hands and telling her everything, right down to your big fat crush on the retired hero.

He saw your accident and it made him smile, the way your cheeks flushed pink as you wiped off your chin, he held his breath, it was so adorable. He had to really fight hard to not spit up blood because of how much you amused him.

A couple weeks later, you still had no idea how to repay him, and now you were too embarrassed to know how to talk to him and with every passing day it gets further and further from the incident causing you to feel even more embarrassed and uncomfortable.

When you exited the school you sighed at the slushy snow falling from the sky, by the time you got back to the teachers apartments you would look like a freezing wet rat. “You can walk with me if you want” his soft voice behind you sent blood to your cheeks, when you turned around you noticed his blushing cheeks as well and it relaxed you a little bit as a small smile found its way to your lips “really?” you ask, a little wary, “of course” he nods with a bright smile and unwraps the umbrella before opening it and placing it over his shoulder, offering you his arm.

The walk back would take about 10 minutes, walking slowly on the slippery sidewalks, you were really grateful to have his arm to hold so you could stay steady. The walk was quiet, you didn’t know what to say and you were racking your brain thinking of something, anything. “I’m-” “so-” you start at the same time and then chuckle together “you go” he says and you smile awkwardly, your stomach in nervous knots, “I’m sorry again for hitting you with the door, i've been trying to find a way to make up for it but- Ah!” you yelp as you almost slip and fall down, his arm snakes around your waist and he pulls you tighter against his side to keep you up right, you wrap your arm around his back as well as your feet slide around. Once you get your feet under you again he smiles “you okay?” he asks and you laugh, your cheeks red, “thank you All Might” you say “call me Toshi, or Toshinori, if you’re comfortable, that is” he looks down at the sidewalk, his cheeks flushing from the nervous butterflies in his own stomach.

“Toshi” you say, a little quietly to test it, his heart races at the sound of his name from your lips, it sounded sweet and sent shivers down his spine, “As I was saying, is there any way I can make it up to you?” he thinks for a moment then says, “this, this is enough”, his hand around your waist pulls you in to his side again for emphasis and you feel your heart drum against your ribs and in your ears “oh” you say softly “it is?” you ask, turning to look up at him and holding his side a little tighter. He turns his face to you with a soft smile, “it is”

The next week after a particularly difficult villain attack, the teachers went out to drink and relax and blow off some of the anxiety that came from the fight. You went to the bar to get another drink, purposefully walking up next to where All Might was, “how are you?” he asks and you place your hand on his arm “I’m better now” his cheeks flush and your smile brightens before your eyes focus on the door behind him and you notice your ex walk in “what happened?” he asks as he watches your expression drop, when you focus back on him you get an idea, you lean in close to him “Toshi” you say into his ear “would you do me a favor and pretend to be my date tonight? My ex just walked in and he’s-” his arm wraps around your waist, he watches the way your skin on your neck and shoulders erupt in goosebumps because of his action and he smirks “yeah don’t worry about it. I am here for you” he grins and you blush with a nod “thank you so much!” you say and lean in, kissing his cheek causing his heart to drum against his ribs.

It was incredibly easy to fall into S/O ways with him, he had his hand on your hip the whole night, you leaning into him as you talked with your friends, you texted Midnight what was up and she told the rest of your friend group so they would play along, you felt your ex’s eyes on you the whole night from where he sat at the bar, an uneasy feeling in your chest.

When All Might went to get you another drink you saw your ex move to come over to you, as he walked through the crowd you panicked, moving to walk in the other direction, to put as many people between you as you could as you made your way over to Toshinori, when you got to him he had his drinks in each hand, you could see your ex in the corner of your eye as you placed your hands on All Might’s neck, your eyes asking him if this was okay as you leaned in closer, he nodded once knowing what you were asking, and then leaned the rest of the way until your lips were touching.

Kissing him was soft, your heart exploded into butterflies as your stomach flopped it’s way out of the knots it had tied itself into. your hands found their way buried into his unruly hair at the nape of his neck as you deepened the kiss, his tongue swipes your bottom lip and you chuckle as you let him in, your tongues swirling slowly together before you pull away, giving him one last peck before backing up and looking up at him with a starstruck smile.

He was looking at you with a look of adoration, his smile similar to the one he used as the symbol of peace to assure people he would protect their lives, except this time you were pretty sure it meant he would protect your heart.

You felt lost in a world that was just you and him until someone next to you clears their throat, “y/n?” your ex says and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows raised and you cock your head “do we know you?” you ask in a sweet voice and he looks like you just kicked him, “it’s..it’s me” he says and you hum, taking your drink from All Might’s hand, you turn back to look at your ex. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you. Excuse us, we have to get going” you lace your hand with All Might’s and you both make your way back to your table with the rest of the teachers, you watch as your ex storms out of the bar.

He walks you home after that, his hand never leaving yours. You walk through the park that is next to the school and you stop at the fountain that’s now off because of the time of night “do you have any coins?” you ask and he laughs “for what?” he digs in his pocket and pulls out a few and you get excited, squealing as you dance a little on your toes. “Okay, you take one, whisper your wish to it, and then toss it over your shoulder into the fountain. Then your wish will come true” you take a coin from his hand and then walk around to the other side of the fountain so he wouldn't hear your wish.

You bring the coin to your lips “I wish that this is more than a fake date” you whisper and then kiss the coin, tossing it over your shoulder. The plop sound as it hits the water echoes as his coin falls in as well, You turn around and make eye contact with him across the fountain, the light from the moon above lighting up your features, both of you smiling at each other. He makes his way around to you and takes your hand again.

“What did you wish for?” you ask even though you know it’s against the rules to tell “if i tell you then it won't come true” you chuckle, your free hand coming up to hold on to his arm and you lay your head on his shoulder “i wonder if we wished for the same thing” you say quietly as you watch the moon’s reflection in the still water.

“I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours” he says, breaking the silence of the walk as you get to your apartment door, you chuckle and take his other hand so you were holding them both between you guys. You look up into his eyes, “you first” you whisper and he laughs “at the same time” he says and takes a step towards you so your toes were touching, you leaned into him and stood a little on your tiptoes as you start to count down together, his warm breath hitting your cheeks “3..2..1” and then your lips connected.

You drop his hands and bury your fingers in his soft hair that you loved, his hands wrap around your lower back as he pulls you into his chest. You moan softly as his tongue enters your mouth, he lets out a sigh into your mouth as you pull his head down gently so you could press your lips harder into his. His kisses are hungry, like he was trying to drink you in and not waste a drop, one of his hands goes up to your neck, brushings his fingers softly across your skin.

You felt spellbound, like magic was flowing through your veins, this was a kiss for you both, not to scare away an ex in a bar as you pretended you were together, there was nothing about this that was a ruse. You felt like you had carved out a moment in time together that was just yours, it felt like your hearts were beating in the same rhythm, that you were sharing the same energy.

When you pull back you’re both smiling as he presses his forehead against yours, you feel giddy, like you’re full of pure magic, “to clarify, my wish was that you felt the same way I do” he whispers and you chuckle “my wish was that this was more than a fake date” his lips brush against yours again, just a sweet peck before he pulls back to look into your eyes “go on a real date with me tomorrow?” you nod “yes please” he pulls you into his arms and hugs you goodnight, you hear his heart racing as you place your head against his chest.

You were to meet him at the cafe you loved downtown before he took you somewhere that he wouldn't tell you, a surprise that he wouldn’t give up no matter how much you tried to guess, as you get to the cafe you stop outside, looking at your reflection in the glass as you fix your hair and lick your lips before your eyes focus on him at the table on the other side of the glass, a smile on his lips and a look of pure adoration in his eyes, you grin at him and raise your hand to wave with your fingers before heading inside, your body filled with butterflies and excitement as you open the door to what you hoped would be something that lasts forever.

#toshinori yagi fanfiction #toshinori x y/n #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi x you #toshinori x you #yagi toshinori #all might #all might x you #all might x reader #all might x y/n #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

Bubble Wrapped - Part 13

Word Count: 3,876

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders

Notes: Well, here we are onto another part of Bubble Wrapped. When we last left this story, our Reader had an encounter with Svech, who then proceeded to profess his love. Our reader didn’t quite see Svech in that light but there might be someone else that she does. So I’m hoping the wrap this story up in a couple more parts. I’m not sure what happened here but this is soft smut in my world. As always feedback is greatly appreciated and wanted…hahaha! Luv ya all!! Happy Reading to all!

Wracking your brain you tried to come up with alternate solutions on where you and Mat could have dinner and maybe a little fun afterward. There was always the option of shutting down one of the nightclubs and having a private party for just the two of you, but then staff would be milling around cooking and getting things ready for the players to use those rooms during the day. Your suite was the ideal option, but with your current roommates, it was scratched off the list easily.

It was then that an idea struck you. Your suite connected to the pool, which always shut down early in the evening. It wouldn’t be hard to shut it down, say around seven in the evening for a late dinner with Mat, and with it being on the rooftop there would be no chance for anyone to see anything that happened after that dinner. “I think I have an alternate plan,” you told Mat who had already decided dinner was off the table so to speak. “That is if you’re still interested.”

One side of his face turned up into what could only be called a shit-eating grin. “Oh, I’m definitely interested.”

“Then meet me up by the pool say seven-thirty tomorrow night?”

There was a note of disappointment in Mat’s face and it had you questioning if you said or had done something wrong. “Yeah, seven-thirty sounds great. Just wish I was the one planning the date for you.”

Oh, well if that was his concern, that was nothing. “I’ll let you plan the next one. You know when you move into the hotel.”

“Deal,” he told you, his eyebrows picking up with excitement and you had to wonder what he had planned for the future. “I hate to do this but I kind of have to get going. I have to get ready for the game soon, or I’d stay and chat.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll meet you tomorrow night.” Mat told you, a huge grin on his face, but then you were pretty sure that yours reflected the same. He was just about to turn and walk away when he stopped, his voice dropping low. “So, am I supposed to bring a suit or…?”

The innuendo hung in the air for only a moment, before you chuckled softly. “Consider it optional,” you told him with a little wink, and then before he could be the one to walk away you did. Leaving Mat to wonder what tomorrow night would hold for the both of you.

The rest of the afternoon went rather swimmingly, or maybe it was just because you had thoughts about your upcoming date with Mat on the brain. You worked most of the day downstairs, calling to check on Svech every so often only to find that he was sleeping. By the time you got back to the suite, the boys were all down in the living room playing video games. At least it was better than them puncturing your ceilings with hockey sticks. There was a slight awkwardness between you, Joel, and Andrei, but then you sort of expected that, considering Svech kept looking at you like a lovesick schoolboy. You could only hope that Joel didn’t realize what had happened while he and Dougie had been at practice.

Before you knew it, everyone retired for the evening. You half expected there to be a knock at your door shortly after you retired, and you laid there for quite some time waiting for it. It never came though. Maybe it was because they were sharing a room, or maybe it was because they both realized that something had happened between you with both of them; you couldn’t really be sure. At any rate, you were glad when they all finally left for the arena, so you could get ready for your date with Mat. Even Svech put on his suit and tie and headed over, as he was hobbling around much better the next day.

Throwing on a cute pale pink sundress, you headed up to the pool area to setup. Being the hotel manager did have its perks, and one of them included knowing where the most secluded spot was on the rooftop deck. You made sure that it would be closed off to all the players, but there was still an off chance that someone could wander up, and you didn’t want to be in the wide open for just anyone to see if they decided to peer through the hallway by the elevators. You rearranged a couple potted plants for cover as well, before setting up the table.

Right before Mat arrived you went down to your suite and brought up the meal that you had the chef prepare, so that everything was perfect for when he came. You weren’t sure why you were going to all the extra trouble, but there was just something about Mat that made you go that extra mile.

You were shocked to see him standing at the door, dress in a button-down shirt and dress pants. Most of the men had adopted the relaxed casual attire the NHL deemed appropriate for the bubble, and you just assumed that he probably hadn’t brought anything with him. “Hi,” he breathed out when you opened the door to let him in, only to lock it again. “These are for you.” He handed over a small bouquet of pink and white roses to you. “It’s the best I could do.”

“They’re beautiful.” It was so simplistic and sweet compared to the extravagant gifts Tyler had given you. “How did you get them?”

“You’re not the only one with connections,” he said with a little wink and you had to wonder if Carly had anything to do with this.

“Thank you, they’re lovely.” Going up on your toes you kissed him on the cheek, which only made you lightheaded as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of him mixed with his cologne.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he told you. Before you could pull away, his hand went to the small of your back urging you to stay tucked into this side.

“Thank you.” Just being close to him again, sent a jolt of lust through your body, and you knew if you didn’t get him over to the table soon, that you’d be having him for dinner. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.” You skated your hand down his arm so that you could entwine your fingers with his and lead him over to the spot you had set up for the two of you.

The table, while not anything special, was set up for just the two of you. A bottle of champagne sat chilling beside it, while the soft glow of candles lit up the secluded alcove you’d chosen. “Wow, you really went to a lot of trouble.”

“It was nothing really.” It struck you then that this was the first real date that you’d had since this whole pandemic started. I mean sure you’d had a few hookups, maybe more than a few, since you were in the bubble and maybe something even before it, but this was like actual couple stuff. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I kind of just went with a little bit of everything.” A bout of nervousness hit for some unknown reason and suddenly you were shaking as you uncovered the dishes you had ordered. Apparently, hookups were easier to deal with than an actual date was.

“Hey, look at me,” Mat gently whispered as he covered his hand with yours, and you looked up into the deep fathoming pools of his eyes. “I’m nervous too if it helps.” The side of his lips lifted up into the cutest smile you ever saw. “Just breathe.” You did, taking a nice deep calming breath and feeling so much better. “Ok, yeah…” Mat said and you looked at him in question. “Maybe not so deep next time.” His cheeks were stained red as he’d just admitted to staring at your breasts, and you had to laugh at how you were both acting like two high school kids instead of grown adults.

It was time to take the situation in hand. Stepping closer to Mat, you whispered, “I think we’d both feel better if we got this out of the way first.” You slid your hands up behind his neck and drew his mouth down to yours. You were only in control of the kiss for a moment, before Mat’s tongue swept across your lips, begging you for entrance, which you gave, of course. His tongue mingled with yours, tasting you and drinking you in, as his hands slid around your waist pulling you close to his body. You melted into him and all the nerves from moments ago just seemed to disappear along with the rest of the world.

Mat pulled away first, yet still chased your lips, before breathless saying, “That was exactly what I needed.”

With one final peck, you stepped back, albeit reluctantly. “Ok, back to dinner then.”

Conversation over dinner flowed easily after that, so much so that you completely forgot the awkwardness that took place when Mat first got there. Mat spoke about hockey and his family, while you deftly avoided telling him anything about yours, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole. Instead, you told him about all the crazy mishaps that had taken place since this bubble had started, omitting all your sexcapades.

“They really broke a pipe with a hockey stick?” Mat roared with laughter at your telling him why the three Canes were staying with you.

“I know. I couldn’t believe it either.”

“You certainly have your hands full here.” Mat took your hand in his then, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “Though I’m glad you made time for this tonight.”

“Me too.” You were honestly having one of the best nights you’d had since the bubble started. With his free hand, the one not still linked with yours, Mat grabbed his phone. Apparently, he didn’t feel the same way as you did if he was going to make a call.

The thought no sooner came to your mind that he wasn’t enjoying himself when you heard a soft melody playing from his mobile. “Dance with me?” You simply nodded your head, and he drew the two of you to your feet.

He easily wrapped you up within his arms, as yours went around his neck; the two of you swaying to the music, bodies pressed intimately as you danced under the stars. Mat’s eyes stared into yours, so warm and loving, and you found yourself getting lost in them. Slowly, his lips drifted down to yours, capturing them in a kiss that stole your breath away. This time you gave him entrance immediately, as your tongues danced to a melody all of their own.

Your fingers slipped through his locks at the nape of his neck, and he moaned against your mouth. The kiss becoming even more heated, his hands roaming over your ass to press you closer to him. Mat twirled you both until you felt the back of your knees bump up against one of the oversized cabana chairs. He lowered you down onto it; his body followings yours as he continued to ravage you with his kisses.

Mat’s mouth was everywhere, on your lips, trailing down your neck and across your collarbone, until he suddenly stopped. He pulled back to look at you, lust in his eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

It was sweet of him to ask considering what had already transpired between the two of you a week or so ago. “Please don’t stop,” you begged him, wanting to feel his mouth on you again. A wicked grin spread on his face before he was back to devouring you again. His one hand skimmed up the inside of your thigh while his other eased the strap of your dress off your shoulder. Not to be outdone, you deftly undid the buttons of his shirt before pulling its tail out of his pants. His body was amazing. You drank it in that day at the arena, admiring his abs as sweat glistened off of them, but now you let your hand leisurely play with the well-developed muscles there.

When your nails raked across his six-pack to roam down to his belt, he sucked in a breath, before stilling your hands. “Not yet, babe. There’s something I’ve been dying to do first.” He gently pushed you so that your back fully lay on the cushions. Slipping your arms out of your dress straps, he slowly lowered the garment so that he could feast upon your breasts. It was no surprise that you weren’t wearing a bra as the sundress's thin spaghetti straps didn’t allow for it. Mat took one taut nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it before tugging on it with his teeth. Your back arched up into him as you gasp out with pleasure.

You were so enthralled with his mouth, you didn’t feel his hand glide up your inner thigh until it reached your core. His hand cupped your sex and you knew he could feel the moisture that he’d created through the thin material of your panties. He spread your legs easily before sinking down on his knees in front of you. He pulled your body closer to the edge of the cabana seat, before pushing your dress around your waist. “Lift up for me.” You did as commanded and the next thing you knew he slid your panties off and into his pants pocket. He trailed hot kisses up your inner thighs making you squirm with delight. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation of where his mouth would soon be, and you could feel him grinning as he kissed your heated skin.

His fingers spread you wide before you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your core. “Mmm,” he moaned out, or was that you, you couldn’t tell. “Fuck your wet,” and this time you knew they were Mat’s words, which brought more moisture pooling at your center. His mouth went to work then, flicking across your clit, then darting inside your pussy. It was a full-on assault to bring you pleasure, and you treasured every second of it. One strong arm, held your hips down as your body started to move on its own accord. “You taste so good,” he panted then sucked on your clit. “I knew you would. This is all I could think about for the last week.” His fingers joined the play of his lips, thrusting first one and then another inside you.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, as your hands threaded into his dark locks keeping his mouth in place as you drew closer to the edge of ecstasy. Maybe it was your words or the fact that Mat could feel you start to flutter on his lips, but his mouth didn’t let up on your clit as his fingers made that perfect come-hither motion that drove you to the brink of insanity. You came with a loud moan, as your body shook from the intense sensations.

Mat worked you through the orgasm, slowly ceasing his movements as you came back to reality. “Damn your beautiful when you cum.”

His lips glistened with your juices on him and you found yourself reaching for him. He came willingly. His body looming over yours. “Then I think you should make me cum again. Only this time I want you inside me.” Mat didn’t have to be told twice. His mouth came down on yours, where you tasted your essence on his lips, as he kicked his pants off. Taking himself in hand, he guided his cock to your wet and waiting pussy. The chords in his neck strained as he slowly entered you, as you could see the amount of effort it took him to hold back instead of just plunging in deep and hard. Little did he know that that would’ve satisfied you as well, but there would be other times for him to do that, at least you hoped there would.

His lips only left yours once he was buried deep inside you, and then it was only to suck in a deep breath. “Fuck,” he hissed out. “You feel so good.” Slowly, almost painstakingly so, he started to thrust in and out of you. One hand held your hip steady, while the other toyed with your breast, flicking and pinching your nipple. You moaned at the sensation relishing the feel of him inside you. “So beautiful.”

His lips found yours again, stoking an even greater hunger within you. “Harder, Mat. Harder.” He picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you. Moans from both you and Mat mingled in the night air, as a cool summer breeze caressed your heated skin. You felt your body clench as Mat hit you in just the right spot.

“That’s it cum for me, beautiful.” You broke apart, shattering once again as your second orgasm of the night hit you. He gave you but a moment to recover before flipping over on your stomach. Grabbing a pillow, he propped it under your stomach then drew you up on your knees. His cock slammed back into your dripping pussy. Both hands gripping your hips, he pounded into you at a feverish pace. When you finally recovered, you levered yourself up on your elbows, pushing back against him when his thrusts slowed. “Fuck baby,” he grunted out as you fucked yourself on his cock. He gathered your hair in his hands, pulling you gently back towards him as he lowered himself down to nip at your neck. You hoped there wouldn’t be marks there in the morning.

You weren’t sure what pushed Mat over the edge, but the next thing you knew he grabbed both hips and pistoned his cock in and out of you. “Oh,” he groaned, and you felt yourself start to quiver. You didn’t think that you’d cum like this, without any stimulation to your clit, but you could feel a third orgasm start to build. “God, yes, baby.” Mat thrusts hammered into you and then you were spiraling once again. Mat followed you, with a loud moan, as his hands bit into your hips. Your elbows gave out and you both collapsed on the lounge chair. “That was…”

“Fucking amazing,” you finished for him.

“Yes, yes it was.” He moved to his side, bringing your body with him. Bodies sticky from sex and sweat, you laid there letting the summer air cool your body. Mat swept back a lock of hair that had fallen across your face. “So beautiful.” His words were but a whisper, a caress almost and you shivered, not from the night breeze but the look in his eyes. They held so much emotion in them. Happiness, lust, longing, and something else you dare not say for you weren’t sure if you were ready for that, were all there.

It was too much, and so you closed your eyes before saying, “Care to take a little dip?”

“I thought he just did.” You both laughed lightly at his cute little pun. “But why not.”

You got up, leaving Mat still lounging on the oversized chair, and shimmied your dress off your body finally. Looking over your shoulder, you gave Mat a wink before walking to the edge of the pool and diving in. When you surfaced from the water, Mat was still in the same position, just lazily watching you. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, I think we’ll both be doing that in a few minutes.”

True to his words, Mat had you cuming as you both found release under the water. It was sometime later, that you were both dressed again, the night getting late and Mat had to get back to Royal York and his team. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” he told you holding you within his arms, his hands running up and down your back.

“I wish you didn’t either.” You kissed for what had to be the millionth time that night.

“Well, hopefully, you’ll be seeing more of me here soon.” He dropped kisses to your lips, nose, and forehead, before adding. “Until then…Do you think we could do this again?” You went to answer, but Mat continued. “Maybe on a more exclusive level?”

It was the last thing you thought he’d ask. You didn’t really see him as the monogamous type, so his question took you off guard. “I think you’ve been in the bubble too long.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “Maybe it’s only opened my eyes to things that I want.” He took a small strand of hair and tucked it behind your ear; he seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. The gesture was both endearing and seductive at the same time.

“I think you drank too much champagne.” It wasn’t that you didn’t like the idea of a relationship with Mat. In fact, it was kind of appealing. Of all the men you’d been with since this whole thing started, there were three that came to mind that you’d actually consider being with, and Mat was one of them. You just didn’t know where your feelings stood with the other two.

His grip on your hips tightened and he nudged you closer. “The only thing I’m drunk on ... is you.” He punctuated his words with an intoxicating kiss. “But you don’t have to answer me now. You can let me know when I move in here.”

“You’re incorrigible.” You couldn’t help but kiss him again, for he was just too irresistible.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mat finally said, after what seemed like an endless goodbye kiss.

“I’ll go down to the lobby with you. I should check and make sure everything is fine, before heading to bed.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.” You hadn’t realized he was the jealous type, but you could see a little bit of the green monster there in his eyes.

“Just making sure none of your roommates will be visiting.” You rolled your eyes at him, though in the back of your mind you wondered what he had heard to make him think something was going on between you and any of the guys.

“They won’t be.” You kissed him one last time before heading downstairs. The lobby was quiet as you said your goodbyes, but then you heard the doors open as the Canes came filtering back in from their game. You’d forgotten all about them playing tonight. From the look on their faces, it hadn’t gone well.

“Looks like I’ll be moving in sooner than I thought,” Mat whispered in your ear as Svech and Joel walked past. Both of them took in your appearance, as well as Mat’s hand at the small of your back. “Guess I’ll be getting an answer to that question soon as well.”

You were going to have to examine your feelings faster than you anticipated, and you weren’t quite sure you were ready to give up all the fun, just yet.

#bubble wrapped the series #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #Mat barzal #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #mathew barzal #Mathew Barzal smut #mathew barzal imagine

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

Text

Mistletoe - Izuku Midoriya x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

DAY TWO OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST

KEY: H/N = Hero Name

“H/N, who are you wearing tonight?”

“Do you have a date?”

“Congrats on cracking the top 10!”

“What are your plans now?”

With a gracious smile, as much of a gracious smile as you could muster, you wave to the paparazzi outside of the event you were attending. Your publicist basically had to beg you to RSVP with a ‘yes’ to this thing. Wearing a heavy dress, heels, and your hair being tugged in all different directions? This was definitely not your idea of a Saturday night. But, there were two factors that eventually swayed you. It was a Christmas charity event - you had already donated beforehand, though - and it was being hosted by one of your closest friends from highschool, Izuku Midoriya. Now being finally ranked as the number one hero, he decided to host this gala in an effort to raise money - he really was the most selfless person you had ever met. The venue was genuinely beautiful. Garlands were wrapped around every banister and railing, wreaths were hung up on the walls, and several christmas trees dotted the floor, all wrapped up in twinkling lights. You felt like you could get lost in the scenery, but a sweet voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N! Long time no see!” You turn your head to see another one of your former classmates, Kyoka Jirou.

“Wow Kyoka! You look great!” You notice a small hand grasping hers and your smile widens. A blonde toddler, dressed in a sweet blue suit, peered up at you. “And I haven’t seen you,” you say, kneeling close to meet his eyeline, “since you were just born.” Little Habiki Kaminari poked his head around his mother’s dress and gave you a shy smile. Jirou smiled at the exchange and moved to give you a hug.

“Where’s my little man?” A deeper voice said from behind Jirou while wrapping an arm around her.

“Right next to his gorgeous mother,” you say, winking. Denki looked up to you and gave one of his signature smiles.

“Y/N, good to see you! You bring anyone?” He asks enthusiastically. You shake your head and give a small smile.

“Nah, haven’t found anyone yet.” You say, waving him off.

“Oh you’ve found someone, you just haven’t acted on it.” Jirou quips, catching you a little off guard. Yeah, okay. So maybe your sweet little school girl crush on the hero named Deku had never really left you. It had even managed to evolve into something more. Seeing Izuku grow into the man he was today left you in awe. He was much more confident and collected now, but still held many nervous mannerisms that you believed would stay with him for as long as he lived.

“Oooh, are you talking about Mr. Midoriya? Because-”

“Hey guys, I’m so glad you made it!” Jirou’s, Denki’s, and your eyes all went wide as you turned to see the holder of the voice. A tall man with a mop of green hair was grinning at the three of you. Well, four, including Habiki.

“Midoriya! How’s life as number one man?” Denki said, slapping a hand on Izuku’s back. He gave a laugh as his cheeks twinged with embarrassment.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty cool.” He says, a hand coming up to rub the back of his head in modesty.

“Well, we were just going to greet Todoroki, so we’ll see you later!” Jirou says, tugging her husband away and leading her toddler towards a corner of the room. You stand there awkwardly for a moment, but buck up enough courage to greet him.

“Thanks for inviting me, that was really nice of you.” You say with a shy smile. Izuku turns to look at you with a wide grin on his face.

“Of course Y/N! How could I not invite you!” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. While you had done this hundreds of times, you still got butterflies whenever he touched you like that. “And hey, congrats on ranking at number nine!” You boast a bashful smile.

“Thanks. And number one! You got your dream!” You say as he leads you around the room.

“So what’s been up with you? Any, uh, guys you’re interested in?” You laugh which causes Izuku to smile a little basfully. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just the way you asked that question reminded me of high school,” you giggled. “But no, I’m not in a relationship right now. You?” He shakes his head.

“Nope.” Out of the corner of your eye you spot Denki with little Habiki in his arms, playing with him. A soft smile graces your lips which Izuku spots.

“Makes you think, huh.” He says, pausing in his gate. While you both were only 28, still plenty of time to meet someone and start a family, it started to feel like you were trying to beat a deadline that was set in stone.

“Yeah.” You breathe, glancing up at Izuku. You find him already looking at you, causing pink to dance across your cheeks.

“Hey, you wanna find a more quiet space? It’s getting kind of loud in here.” You nod and let him grab your hand, walking with you to find a private room in the big building. The two of you end up finding an empty storage room and walk right in, shutting the door.

“Ugh,” you huff, slumping against the wall and letting your weight be steadied. “This dress should not be worn for more than an hour at most.” The layers of your dress swish around your legs as you lean your head back.

“Well, you certainly look stunning in it.” Izuku says, making your head snap back into its regular position to look at the man across from you. You roll your eyes and blush, letting your heels fall off of your feet to get more comfortable. “I’m serious, Y/N. You look beautiful.” You open your mouth to speak but no words make an appearance. Izuku smiles at you and takes a step closer, a shy smile on his face. “I might know something I shouldn’t…” he says, a sweet look in his eyes. Your heartbeat quickens but you remain calm.

“O-oh? And what would that be?” You stammer, the distance between the two of you getting shorter and shorter.

“Denki might’ve mentioned, um, some feelings you have about me.” God dammit Denki, you cursed. One of your fists clenches but you make yourself stay put.

“Oh, yeah, about that…” you say, trailing off. You look down to your hands and start playing with them, trying to do anything to calm yourself.

“How long?” He mumbles, causing you to look up.

“Our second year at UA. When we were paired up for team battles,” you say quickly, causing his freckled face to break out in a grin.

“I, um…” he stammers as he digs something out of his pocket. What appears in his scarred palm is a sprig of mistletoe, making you melt. He raises his hand to hold it above the two of you. “I, mmph-!” His sentence is cut off as you grab the tie around his neck, tugging him towards you, and pressing his lips against yours. They’re softer than you imagined and he’s definitely more skilled than you thought he’d be. What started off as a sweet kiss evolved into something more. His hands ended up wrapped around your waist and yours were in his hair, mussing it up a bit, but neither of you cared. Heavy breaths graced the room here and there before they were silenced again. You felt as if you were on cloud nine. Here you were, kissing Izuku Midoriya as he holds you so closely and with care. It probably would’ve gone down a further, less PG route if it wasn’t for Izuku’s phone ringing. He sighs and shoots you an apologetic look as he answers it, putting it on speaker.

“Deku where are you?! You’re supposed to start your speech in five minutes and we haven’t even done a mic check yet!” Cringing at the sharp voice of his publicist, he apologizes and turns his phone off.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We have plenty of time after, yeah?” You say, helping him straighten out his suit as he tucks a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. He has a smug smile on his face as his eyes lock onto your lips, causing you to shoot him a confused glance. He licks his thumb and rubs it right next to your mouth, yet another blush erupting on your cheeks.

“Lipstick stain. So unprofessional, H/N.” He jokes, letting his hand cradle your cheek.

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back as you fix his messy hair. He smiles at you with a loving expression and starts to make his way out of the room.

“Wish me luck!” He says, his hand now on the door handle. You nod.

“Hey, if you get nervous, just find me in the crowd. Channel that confidence you got from pulling that mistletoe stunt, okay?” Izuku’s heart felt like it was gonna burst as you kissed him on the cheek and made your way to the main floor. Thank God for mistletoe.

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wincore · 4 years

Text

sour tangerine | huang renjun

pairing: keyboardist!renjun x songwriter!reader

words: 15.3k

summary: ‘i gave up on that sort of music,’ he’d said. but not like this. not when you’re there to grab his wrist and drag him into your ridiculous notions about music that make him want to tear all his hair out. huang renjun falls in love with two words that escape your lips, and now he has to pretend his cheeks aren’t caked in a blush as red as donghyuck’s guitar. maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to joining this band of idiots just for an incredibly cute songwriter.

themes: rock band!au, fluff, (mostly existential) angst, comedy-ish

warnings: making out, alcohol, college kids being college kids

song recs: hello sunshine - wetter // how to love - day6 // today - nell // rooftop - n.flying // what can i do - day6 // red - the rose // i loved you - day6 // leave it - n.flying // baby - the rose

a/n: nct dream 00 line rock band. that’s it. who wants to join my renjun cover literally any song by day6 agenda. if you think this is like a kdrama compressed into a fic i am so sorry but you are correct hsdksh also i do not know what it’s like to major in music or make music so... please bear with me.

special thanks to @insomni-writing for beta reading this ilysm!! and @cinanamon because your support made me actually finish this ily dude <3

With hair dyed blond and a stream of colourful words ready at the tip of his tongue, no one assumes Huang Renjun majors in classical music. Not when he’s threatening Lee Donghyuck by the vending machine, not when he’s pulling an arrogant half-smile by the semester-end results and certainly not when he’s hardly ever seen near an instrument as elegant as the grand piano.

If they heard him play it just once, they’d forget the rest.

He strikes the keys gently, and then all at once in a motion so very unique to him—and you know this, not because you were stalking him, but because you happened to get a very rare ticket to the national level performing arts concert (which you didn’t scam out of someone that time, you swear). Looking pristine in a clean tuxedo and with then dark hair swept to the side, Huang Renjun looked very much like an alien, like the words leaving his mouth and the things he’d do would be so unpredictable.

You were right.

Huang Renjun plays the piano like he’s not of this world.

He plays soft rock tunes even better—which, this time, you know because you were, in fact, stalking him while he spent extra hours in the practice room. From the lazy smile on his face to the way he let himself loose (for once) in a hot pink hoodie he kept trying to cover with his bag all day, you knew he was perfect.

Out of all the miserably planned (and timed) situations you’ve pulled yourself into, this might just hit top 3.

You’re going to convince Renjun to join your band.

Which is easier said than done, because Renjun is just as stubborn as you are, if not more. You’ve never wanted to smack someone so bad and neither have you ever contemplated the outcome of spontaneous fistfights as much. But as frustrated as he leaves you, you know you need him, or your picture-perfect plan will fall apart before you’ve even started to paint.

The first time you’d nudged him in class, he’d sent you a glare as soon as the question left your lips. You’d fought a pout, the warmth on your cheeks popping like firecrackers. But you’re not easily discouraged, no, not really, not ever.

The second time, you’d spread your arms in front of him to get him to stop walking off, looking more of a lunatic than a college student (sometimes, what’s the difference?) and Renjun had pursed his lips and furrowed his brows in an expression more than annoyed.

“Please!” you yelled, catching the attention of fellow students.

Renjun eyed your palms flat against each other, elbows raised in a most comical prayer and announced a “No” just as loudly before briskly walking away.

The third time, you’d sent Donghyuck, your lead guitarist, who you really shouldn’t have expected to perform better than you did. You know they’re friends, so that should have worked better, right? Wrong. Renjun had returned a pouting Donghyuck, complaining nonstop for two whole days afterwards and with a message from Renjun to “in the best of words, fuck off”.

You sigh, glancing at the time on your watch. This is your last time to book him for your ragtag rock band (still unnamed) and you’re going to leave him with no choice. You can do this.

You tiptoe from one side of the corridor to the other, the large windows drenching you in an uncomfortable amount of sunlight. But you are quiet—you know how to be sneaky and you’d be lying if you said you’re not at least a little bit proud of it. Renjun stays at the senior practice room well into late afternoon and if the door was closed fully, you’d be hearing nothing of it.

The old model of electronic keyboards in the practice room, which made you wonder if electric instruments ever rust, now plays ringing clear. It’s not just the fondness with which your school’s beloved pianist plays it but the added charm of his structure, straightened enough to focus but relaxed just as much.

A few minutes pass by in quiet contemplation, as you run through your plan again. First, approach him with a friendly gesture, offer him your strawberry milk or something. Second, block every exit he might seek once you’ve cornered him. Third, spew that long speech you prepared—a pretty pile of words ought to move him. Right? If all else fails, you’re going to call in Jaemin as your secret weapon. The boy can charm a rock, and you hate to be doing that to anyone (even Renjun), but drastic situations call for drastic measures. You take a sharp breath.

Oh, he’s singing now?

You misstep over the marble flooring and the door creaks open a little too loud.

Shit.

The music stops. You take a good second to swear at yourself, well and full, before breathing in and entering the practice room with as much confidence as you can gather.

“Renjun!” you say, grinning wide and arms stretched as if you’re there to welcome him.

Renjun looks at you, surprise smeared across his face. He quickly picks up his bag, shaking his head at you as he makes his way towards the door.

“You- “

Instead of all your brilliant planning, you resort to pulling a disgruntled Renjun into a lonesome corner before he can leave. It would seem more of a threat than an invitation to join, you’ll admit, but right now, you need Renjun to not glare at you with a scowl so obvious. It’s not that his face makes you nervous, it’s the outcome of today’s attempt. The bright afternoon sun reaches his hair and the left side of his face, a warm hue over eyes that look at you with more than just mild annoyance. He wears a grungy dark jacket over his lightly coloured T-shirt and has the audacity to claim he doesn’t do rock.

“Are you trying to kidnap me or something?” he asks, adjusting the strap of his bag.

You quickly smack the wall so your arm blocks his way, though the impact of it makes you wince.

“Join me,” you say, looking at him, determination across your face though the sentence comes off more cult-ish than you’d want.

Renjun takes a step back to look up and take a sharp breath.

“I already told you,” he says, raising his voice, “I don’t do that sort of music anymore.”

“Anymore?”

Renjun groans, lips shaped in perfect annoyance. “Just how long are you going to keep this up?”

He tries to escape you but you take a hasty step closer, his back hitting the wall with a thud. It’s not all that fun, getting people to join your band. It’s even less fun when Renjun’s cologne is a tad too minty for your tastes.

“I’ll do anything!” you say, pressing your lips tight as the pleading grows in your eyes.

“Anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes!” You jolt up straighter.

“Then leave me alone forever for the rest of my life.”

Renjun crosses his arms and you frown, a sigh lacing your lips till you bring yourself to look him in the eye again. It’s not yet time to pull out Jaemin, you’re not even sure if that will work, but you might just have something else.

“Lee Chaerim!” you suddenly yell. “You like her, don’t you?”

It’s a long shot but if it works…

Renjun’s cheeks dust pink and he takes a step back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. Bullseye. You fight a snort before he can catch you. Gods, he’s so obvious.

“Wh-what gave you that idea?” he retorts, pitch shooting higher before he recomposes himself. “She’s a classmate, idiot. And don’t yell her name!”

“Star pianist Lee Chaerim,” you wave your hand about. “Who wouldn’t have a crush on her? I mean you’re a close second though.”

Renjun raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “It’s really not…”

“I’ll score you a date with her!” you declare, grinning like a maniac. “If you join my band.”

Renjun sighs, shoulders sagging. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“Nope.” You shrug, popping the ‘p’ in a helplessly obnoxious manner.

Renjun leans back against the wall, head tilting to look you in the eye as the frown grows prominent over his lips.

“And you think scoring me a date will make me want to join your…band?” Renjun snorts.

You shift your eyes awkwardly. “Well, I didn’t really paint you as the Romeo type either but hey, I don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“(name)?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh. That’s actually the sweetest thing I’ve heard from you,” you muse before quickly returning to the subject at hand. “Ah, come on. Just give it a chance, please?

“I major in classical music.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk crawling over your lips. “And yet you’re more than decent at Queen on the keys.”

Renjun straightens, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. “You’re stalking me?!”

“No, I’m scouting you. All the big companies hire people to do that.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Er, it’s called extraordinary.”

“Extraordinarily annoying.”

“Stop arguing with me!” You stomp your foot.

Renjun mimics you in a rather aggressive tone, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. You pull a face, throwing a soft punch at his shoulder to which he responds with a sharp cry and a glare.

“Fine!” Renjun says, massaging his shoulder. “I’ll give you one week to prove to me this band’s worth my time.”

You feel something akin to surprise before his words register. Worth his time? He's just about as arrogant as you expected.

“Deal,” you say, shooting him a forced smile.

From the light periwinkle of his T-shirt to the blond strands astray against his forehead, there’s a sort of halo surrounding him. You press your lips together before you can laugh at his supposed angelic qualities, before he somehow starts to look as pretty as your friends describe.

“Starting today, I’m your lyricist and composer!” you grin, extending your hand towards him.

“I...You…”

Renjun hesitates before taking your hand in a firm shake, but not before pursing his lips in doubt. Perhaps you could have warned him before grabbing his wrist and so unceremoniously dragging him here.

“I didn’t even join,” he mutters.

“I’m giving you the full trial!” you defend.

Renjun stays quiet before suddenly clearing his throat. “You can- You can let go of the wall now.”

Your eyes trail to your hand and you immediately retract it with an “ah”. There’s barely any distance between your chests, and you suppose you were successful in cornering him—a little too effectively. Renjun shakes his head, quickly walking past you with no gesture of goodbye.

“You’re going to be disappointed, (name),” he says quietly before leaving.

You blink in confusion at his disappearing figure.

Whatever. When have you ever paid attention to words of warning? You glance at the back of Renjun’s head from the second floor’s handrail as he rushes down the stairs, albeit a sort of grace to his movement, and sigh.

Donghyuck owes you twenty. You’re going to be rubbing it in his smug face that you’ve recruited, er, almost recruited the unreachable Huang Renjun. And for a date? He must be far more romantic than you thought. You don’t think you’ll ever understand him.

You take a slow, deep breath reaching all the way to your belly.

Your plan is working out. It’s going to work out—soon you can be writing songs to a rhythm and melody of your choice, for people who can hear the words and dance to it. The world’s gonna sing along to your songs, to the chorus to your ambitions.

“Renjun?!”

Between Donghyuck’s agape mouth and Renjun’s defensive stance, you really don’t know who to approach first. This place was apparently the only room in all of Seoul a bunch of college kids could rent out and while all of you dished out a remarkable chunk from your earnings, it was worth every penny. From the ugly orange wallpaper to the stinky couch, you wouldn’t trade a thing in this room, except for maybe Jeno’s withering plant in exchange for a new one. Poor thing’s been dead for as long as you can remember (courtesy of Jaemin).

“(name) actually convinced you?” Donghyuck asks, exaggerated surprise in his voice before he drops it lower. “You can tell me if you were threatened or something, promise I’ll get you out of this.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, a smile making on to his face anyway. “It’s just for a w—mph!”

You slap a hand over Renjun’s mouth, stepping in to grin victoriously at Donghyuck. “See, Hyuck? I told you I’d make it work. Now, pay up.”

“You bet on this?”

The curtains are drawn shut but the room lights are bright in a strange sort of way, like someone in the sixteenth century discovered electricity early and decided to reinvent candlelight out of it. Late afternoon isn’t as gentle as it is in winter, but you’d rather have patches of sunlight decorating the room instead of the garish yellow lights. The lavender air freshener you sprayed a few minutes ago has already settled in, the previous scent of instant noodles, though delicious, finally gone. You should’ve brought the coffee mix, you think with regret. A productive day needs a productive start, as you’ve always been told. (You might have messed up, but it’s never too late, right?)

You think you should have anticipated a little adjustment trouble after all.

Jeno walks headfirst into the mess—with Renjun choking Donghyuck under his arm while you try to not drop the pile of records from the small coffee table and onto the Dorito dust-covered wooden floor. The recorder is safe, a good few feet away from your mayhem.

“Oh, hey Renjun, didn’t know you’re a part of this,” Jeno says, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

“Yeah, I didn’t either,” Renjun mutters in response, loosing up on Donghyuck.

You narrow your eyes. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

“Yeah, we’re in the same dorm,” Jeno answers, shrugging before he drops his bag onto the couch.

You gasp. “You could’ve just asked him all this time?!”

“Uh,” Jeno drawls out before coughing forcefully. There’s a slight change of air, and your inability to read situations, for the first time, is a major help.

“Hello, trouble children,” Jaemin announces as he enters, his bag thrown in Jeno’s direction, who seems relieved for the interruption.

“Oh, hi Renjun!”

“You know him too?” You’re almost offended at this point.

Jaemin stares blankly in confusion. “Yeah, we’re…all…in the same dorm.”

You throw up your head in exasperation, an annoyed huff leaving your parted lips. “And none of you thought of asking him to join?!”

“We didn’t think he’d ever agree,” Jaemin says, glancing at Renjun discreetly.

Renjun stays quiet, shrugging before he plops down on the couch. “Anyone wanna tell me what we’re supposed to do today? Apart from killing Donghyuck?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so bad at rock, paper, scissors,” Donghyuck retorts quietly.

“You cheated!” Renjun sits up straight, glaring.

You raise your palms like the peaceful negotiator you are, and honestly, all they had to do was decide the lead vocal for the new song, which Renjun vehemently rejected.

Donghyuck gasps. “Renjun isn’t half as innocent as he looks. Watch out (name)—oof.”

Renjun elbows him in the stomach, the resulting expression on Donghyuck making you wonder just how much strength Renjun really has.

“Renjun, Donghyuck. You’re both lead,” you say, finalizing.

“What?!”

The two of them look at you, one with betrayal and the other with an emotion very close to murder. It wasn’t easy coming to the decision, sure, but for this song, you’ll be needing Renjun a little bit more. Is it treacherous of you to have picked out the song most suited to him? You have your reasons, however. You’re not letting Renjun leave without experiencing the wonders of performing at a local pub, and in general, you’re a little iffy about letting him leave at all. You need the keys and you need a chance. You have something to prove.

“Just this song, Hyuck,” you sigh. “You know we switch up things every time.”

“Fine,” he grumbles. “The show's coming Saturday, right?”

You nod when Renjun interrupts.

“Show?!” he blurts.

“We’re performing,” you answer, shrugging. “You know Odd Fruit? In Hongdae?”

Renjun wrinkles his nose, shifting back. “No? Isn’t that a dive bar?”

“Best place for us,” Jaemin grins, resting his elbows against the headrest beside Renjun. “Saturdays are for rock.”

Renjun sighs. “I don’t- I don’t sing rock.”

Jeno raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t peeping or anything but wasn’t that you in the shower? What were you singing again—”

“Okay, okay!” Renjun sits up straight, heaving a sigh, his shoulders moving with it. “I sing Disney songs in the shower, it doesn’t mean anything…”

“We can do that sort of music too.” You grin, tilting your head. “We can do any music!”

“Yeah,” Jeno encourages thoughtfully, “Even idol music!”

“No,” everyone says in unison.

Jeno mutters something under his breath, sulking as he sinks into the couch and crosses his arms after adjusting his bright red baseball cap.

Renjun shakes his head, recomposing himself. “You want me to perform next Saturday?! That wasn’t in the deal!”

You furrow your brows. “I told you it’s a full trial!”

“That’s over a week!” He throws up his hands in exasperation.

“The trial week ends on Friday and Saturday’s just a bonus,” you reason, crossing your arms.

You don't break the gaze just in case it determines your stand. It’s probably a full minute of glaring at each other before your humble audience intervenes, Donghyuck bursting into laughter and the other two following. You share a puzzled look with Renjun, looking around for an explanation.

“We’re gonna have a blast this Saturday,” Donghyuck says, wiping a tear from his eye. “I can’t wait.”

“We’ll get to practise,” Jaemin says, resting his palm on Renjun’s shoulder reassuringly. “You’re gonna have fun, trust me.”

“I hope so,” Renjun mutters.

That’s all you need to hear.

Renjun isn’t half as disagreeable when he’s focused. His brow line is straight, lips parted gently and eyes almost hazed over as if his fingers over the keys have eyes of their own.

Renjun is also fantastic at perfecting your notes. You always thought he’d be too prissy to work with you, but he doesn’t seem to care about that anymore. With flushed knuckles and long fingers, part of hands that were meant to play the piano—you’d say Renun lives up to the musical prodigy title. The short demo you’d played for him somehow swirled and twined into music so him and yet still you, rock undertones with light blues. You haven’t met anyone who can play with melody like that, besides Donghyuck.

Rock means hope. Undone to be done.

And maybe, part of you is a little disappointed at how well he handles the pre-performance stress. You would love to see a hint of jitters in him for once. Saturday wastes no time in creeping up and while you wish you could say you feel what your band looks like, you don’t. The pre-performance stress is very, very different for you.

Let’s say, you’re not too sure about reviving rock music in Seoul. It’s not very popular and still considered underground, but hey, at least it’s easy on the ears and it is honest, if nothing else. And an honest sound wins, right?

You lock eyes with Renjun, before they're ushered to the centre. There's not much to be said. You smile with a determined nod, holding up both of your thumbs to the boys. This will work out. It will.

And at the very least, you're getting two shots of whiskey on the house.

The place is shabby, but not too shabby for a dive bar. There’s a giant mural… thing of what seems to be the hybrid of a peach, apricot and dragonfruit. You’re not too sure, actually. Just as crowded as you expected, the lights glow dim and the smell of musk and lime keep in check the other foul smells that could possibly emanate from the human body. Lovely. Your fingers play against your lips as they stretch into a smile. It’s the perfect place to play your song, but maybe the jitters have a purpose after all.

There are foreign faces around, quite literally, and it makes you nervous. You settle by the bar, your last words of encouragement drifted off further from you to whatever that excuse of a stage is.

Renjun looks calm as ever. The confidence in him is not what you'd expected, though a bubbling feeling in you suggests it's even better this way.

“You finally got someone on the keys,” a familiar voice calls from behind the countertop.

You turn your head to find Doyoung, arms resting on the table and holding what seems to be a bottle of vodka so tenderly, you’d think it was either his child or an explosive.

“Huang Renjun,” you respond, smiling. “Like the best pianist in our year. Or maybe second best.”

Doyoung laughs. “You kids could be as good as us some day. Need more practice.”

“Hey, old man, it’s not your time anymore,” you say, raising an eyebrow with a cheeky grin. “Maybe you were the best keyboardist back then but…”

You lean in to emphasize as you point at a Renjun furrowing his brows at all the wiring. “That guy’s going to outsing you. It’s the new era now. Etcetera, etcetera.”

“You talk like I’m from a different generation.” Doyoung scoffs, though the corner of his lips twitch. “Still dreaming of making your boyband? Do you guys even have a name?”

You pout. “It’s not a boyband! Okay… technically, it is a boyband. And no, we don’t have a name.”

You sulk for a moment or two at the way Doyoung had called your life’s work a boyband in that uninterested tone. Nothing’s wrong with a boyband. You sigh.

“At least we’re getting free alcohol, eh?” you nudge Doyoung, him being the reason you’re getting to play here anyway. What does a graduated music performance major do in his free time? Bartending, apparently. You haven’t ever really questioned his life choices and you’re not going to start now. Never question your seniors.

“I’m not serving you kids alcohol,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief.

“We’re legal,” you argue, crossing your arms.

“Hard to believe.”

You see the smile lines crease on Doyoung’s face and before you can retort, a hum of strings resounds through the place, loud enough for the two of you to catch.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck mouths sheepishly to the two of you, Doyoung responding with an eye roll.

“I didn’t know that demon could get nervous,” he mutters and you laugh at the comedic duo the two of them make.

Donghyuck clears his throat into the mic and you cringe, but not before holding back your laughter at the terror in his eyes. Right then, the keys are struck, and suddenly, music is into motion.

You absentmindedly hum along, smiling to yourself before it strikes you to monitor the crowd. You gulp, a crease in your brows as you look around with the determination of a child at a pet shop scanning for a puppy to adopt.

You give up after a minute or so, the feeling weighing heavy. Reading facial expressions has never really been your thing, especially under lights that don’t acknowledge the purpose of their existence. (You’re not saying this because you have bad eyesight.) Fun varies. Everyone in this place is in a crowd of their own, and if not a crowd, in a dream. Some nod along, some smile but you, you know the song better than anyone else in this room. It has to be worth something.

You sigh. Your desperation gets a notch crueler each drawing year, and yet, the questions still arise. Do you have to be someone? A smiling face at a dive bar is more than enough to be, you think.

You mouth the lyrics, nodding your head along to the baseline you helped make. You think Doyoung chuckles beside you, something about taking self-love too seriously but you can’t hear him over the sound of the band.

Bass. Drums. Keys.

Suddenly, in the moment between heartbeats, your eyes meet Renjun’s.

He sings into the mic full of self-assurance, teeth occasionally making an appearance in a chaotic smile. It's always the little things that make the person. Eyes peering down at the keys, barely keeping open at certain parts and yet you think you see a hint of exhilaration in them.

The riff of the second song starts out loud. This is Donghyuck’s song and this time, it turns heads. You’re not sure in a good way or bad, but it wouldn’t be the first time people have wanted to beat him up in a bar. You snicker to yourself but just then, two guys cheer from the crowd, a red-faced Donghyuck flashing them a grin.

“Ah, Jaehyun and Taeil are here too,” Doyoung notes. You’ve never actually met the two but you’ve heard of them so many times you think you could replace Doyoung as their lead singer.

The song is called Cheers and for good reason.

Donghyuck smiles into the mic, and with a highly anticipated breath, you realize, Renjun is smiling too. Little by little, the night grows more optimistic and into the palms of your youth. Even in this tiny, crowded place. Even in a room full of people you can’t read.

The song ends in time, but not enough for Donghyuck to actually convince Doyoung to give him drinks. It’s not a Saturday night without their fights, and despite that, the atmosphere is warm with spoken words. You think you catch Renjun beam at Doyoung’s compliment, suppressing your own smile at the two..

Clink, splash, clink.

“You know, for someone as excited about whiskey, I thought you’d be better with liquor,” Renjun says, sighing as his hesitant finger pokes you in the forehead.

Your eyes open so suddenly, Renjun flinches and you ease into a smile. “I’m not that drunk. The next shot, maybe.”

That’s not entirely true because you’re sure the previous one just needs a little more time to settle into your gut. Renjun, on the other hand, seems to be better at dealing with alcohol. The peach hue across his cheeks make you want to pinch them and you’ll give it twenty minutes before you lose control and actually do.

The two songs were only three and a half minutes each but they seemed to stretch long enough for you to be pleased with them. You’re not sure about the rest.

“I almost messed up the beat there,” Jeno mutters, resting his head against the bar table. Jaemin shrugs beside him, taking another shot. The two of them can hold their liquor, at least. Donghyuck cannot.

“Was it that bad?” Donghyuck asks, adjusting the red bomber jacket he was so sure made him look cool. “I don’t think it was bad. I mean, we all do embarrassing things once in a while—”

“Does he not shut up?” Renjun wails before looking at you accusingly. “Don’t end up like that.”

“I don’t mope, Renjun,” you snap, your finger unsteady as it points at him. “You better remember that about me.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “And you’re gone too.”

“Tell me,” you say, your lips tugged into a lazy smile, “you enjoyed it, didn’t you? I saw you smiling.”

Even under the wash of blue light, you can see his cheeks tinge with colour. Is Huang Renjun purple now? Not the crystal clear jewel you’d expected, but these hues are so much nicer on him. He doesn’t always have to be under golden spotlight—he can just bask in the mulberry shades of a nearly sketchy club once in a while.

“Renjun,” a loud whine erupts from beside you, Donghyuck immediately wobbling up. “I can’t believe you actually agreed to play with us. C’mere, let me give you a smooch.”

Renjun curls his lips, desperately trying to fight off Donghyuck clinging onto him for life, and you hear a grunt of pain from Renjun in a pitch you didn’t think was humanly possible. You laugh, clutching your stomach and hear a few strained words from Renjun about how no one ever helps him. Who would help him when he’s providing you the funniest event of the weekend?

Jeno is the knight in shining armour tonight, pulling Donghyuck off but not before the boy lands a kiss on Renjun’s neck, in turn getting smacked in the lips a little too hard. Donghyuck places his hand over his mouth, keeling over with eyes shut in pain and Renjun mutters about how he deserved that. He fits in just fine, you think.

“You wanna… not do that?”

Renjun pulls the shot glass away from you, and you frown at him.

“So tell me,” he says, leaning in a little closer to be heard over the song. “Why did you want me to join your band so desperately you forgot your own dignity? I’m not saying you had any to begin with but…”

“Look, Renjun, I don’t give away embarrassing secrets when I’m drunk,” you warn, poking him right between the ribs. “Even if it’s not embarrassing. Or a secret.”

“Right. You’d do that sober,” he sighs, arms a polite distance from you when you try to stand up.

“Now you tell me—”

“You didn’t even answer me.”

“—did you have fun?”

Renjun pauses, taking a moment or two as he scans your face. The light dances across his features, gentle eyes and parted lips, across the dark jacket over a white shirt that has turned fluorescent under the lighting. You forgot how fun this place got beyond midnight, when they play beats to dance to for a crowd that seeks nothing more than fun.

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

Renjun might be trying very hard to stop the smile over his lips but you can see it in his eyes. And perhaps, people are only seen when they are true to themselves.

“Huang Renjun!” you yell all of a sudden, voice still drowned out in the delicate discordance.

Unfortunately for Renjun, you yell directly into his ear and he responds with a violent recoil, hand flying to his ear involuntarily. He probably cries out too but the music is deafening, something you enjoy rightly so. Or is it the alcohol? Should you have stayed sober for Renjun’s sake? Right now, you don’t even mind the strong minty scent wafting from Renjun—in fact, it’s welcoming, even.

You wobble onto his chest before tentatively pushing yourself away. You curse at yourself. You weren’t supposed to get hammered. How much did you drink? You can’t even bear to look at the bill right now.

“You know what? I’m not having fun right now,” Renjun speaks into your ear and you jump. There’s a hint of a smile on his face.

You sit back down on the bar stool, pouting at the fuzz blooming inside your head. No more words for tonight. In all honesty, why doesn’t anyone ever let you dance?

“Oh no, you don’t.” Doyoung pulls the bottle of whatever-alcoholic-beverage out of your reach. “Do you even know how expensive that is? You’re going to have to pay.”

You think you sober up a little, sitting straight. “Oh no. I don’t have money. I’m not cleaning the place again.”

A sort of unspoken arrangement passes between Doyoung and Renjun, who you’re sure have never met before. You know Jaemin’s dragged Donghyuck home, the same way you’d drag your pet cat away from the kitchen and Jeno is the only one with a driver’s license and Doyoung’s trust (hence, designated driver). Which leaves the two of you.

Renjun heaves a sigh, pulling you up by the shoulders. “You’re going home. Or whatever dumpster you came from.”

He proceeds to mutter something about Jeno being late but in the moment, you flash him a grin, walking perfectly away (at least, you think you do) and out into the night. Renjun follows, flustered by your absolute lack of restraint as he somehow manages to stop you from tripping over the sidewalk.

“You didn’t dance,” you complain, looking at him.

“You didn’t let me,” he retorts. “Look at you. You’re as bad as Donghyuck. Babysitting him is difficult enough.”

You grumble before agreeing. “Okay, fair. Next time, no drinking. Unless it’s free.”

What college student would have the audacity to turn down free drinks? Huang Renjun should not have been this good at holding his liquor. Needlessly, your thoughts are incoherent—not too good for a songwriter, right?

Huang Renjun has a lighter touch than you thought. He has a polite hold over your shoulder, in a way friends do most often, and you might feel like you could have been friends with him forever, but you can never tell what he thinks. Sometimes, Renjun really is extraterrestrial. In the way he talks, in the way he looks at things and in the way you almost believe he’s going to do something unspeakably outrageous someday.

You feel a certain sprout of warmth in your chest as he sits quietly beside you in the noisy car Jeno loves to drive. Must be the alcohol, of course. Of course.

And sometimes, you come up with words fit for a song. To fall asleep in last night’s clothes and wake up with tomorrow’s dreams—all part of the grand plan, part of the crusades of youth, nothing more and nothing less. That sounds like something you’d love telling your family when you’re old and grey. You laugh to yourself, pulling the covers over your head, not knowing how you even ended up here.

It smells minty.

With that one fleeting thought, you doze off in your unwashed bed sheets and faintly lemon-scented pillows, shades of plums and oranges and cherries of the night twisting into midnight black.

Playing at Odd Fruit is now a thing. Your thing. The band’s thing.

As if you needed any more reasons to stay over at the bandroom, now that Donghyuck and Renjun bickering keeps everyone up all night. You’re not blaming them, of course, when you join in the fun too. The day Renjun’s nostrils stop flaring and his eyebrows don’t furrow into an oddly adorable expression will be the day he’s finally set free from your ‘ill-treatment’.

Tap, scratch, tap.

Donghyuck fiddles with the strings of his guitar, while the rest lay slumped in any clean bit of space they could find, like runners after a marathon. Which is funny, really, considering you were the one running errands and cleaning up the damn place and it’s yet still somehow trashed. You could be having a little more energy, you always could.

However, the lengthened nights have left you in a state you’re rather afraid to be in. Your eyes don’t grow any more determined when it’s time for end semester tests, you don’t grow any happier at the thought of graduating. There are so many tunes to find, so many words to scribble—just how will you catch up?

Fun is a perfectly valid reason to do things but it’s only so long before the rest of your feelings each grip you by the limbs.

“We need to do something more,” you say, pacing the room. “Something that’s a little more eye-catching, you know?”

There’s a pause.

“Make Jeno play the drums shirtless,” Donghyuck suggests.

Jeno sighs, still not having figured out how to respond every time a scandalizing proposition escapes the boy’s mouth. At this point, most of you have considered duct taping him over the mouth but it’d never work. Renjun’s tried.

“Why do we even need it?” Renjun asks, eyes on the ceiling as he lies back on the couch.

“To improve!” you say, shoulders hunching.

“I don’t need improving,” he mutters, neck angled to the side in contemplation.

“Yeah, you should see Renjun at the dorms,” Donghyuck snorts. “I don’t think he can get any better.”

Renjun furrows his brows. “What?”

“You play the keys in your sleep, Renjun,” Donghyuck says, almost distastefully. “You keep tapping and tapping against the study desk. How the hell do you not wake yourself up?”

“And you snore,” Renjun mumbles, glaring at him. “How the hell do you not wake yourself up?”

“Guys,” you interrupt. Your lack of sleep throughout the exam season has not left you any better than this. “More important matters at hand.”

“Why are we so stressed anyway?” Renjun sighs.

There’s another pause in the quiet afternoon. You’d think it’s comforting even to have the same fear lingering beneath each of your noses, that same existential grasp ready to pounce—all within the comfort of the same room you share. All those late nights sharing ramen have meaning after all, as do the utter messes all of you make on Friday evenings as the boys try to practise, as does every Saturday night performance and every Sunday afternoon spent trying to watch the same movie on a tiny phone screen.

“How about we each look for inspiration?” Jaemin pipes up, eyes still a little lost.

Everyone turns to him and he straightens ever so slightly. “Me and Jeno can come up with a beat, (name) and Renjun can look for a melody and Donghyuck—”

“Can fuck off?” Renjun suggests helpfully.

Donghyuck pouts, crossing his arms. “Hey I’m—”

“Yeah, maybe Donghyuck can fuck off,” Jaemin says, fighting a smile. You raise an eyebrow, wondering which one of Donghyuck’s antics finally got on Jaemin’s nerves.

“This is harassment,” Donghyuck mutters before sinking into the couch beside Renjun. “Well, good for me! I get a day off—”

“No, you don’t,” Jaemin disproves. “You’re cleaning up this place.”

Donghyuck lets out a gasp. “All by myself?”

“Well, you trashed the place all by yourself,” Jeno reasons.

You tune out the bickering for a few moments. There are important matters at hand and no one seems to be listening to you. You play with your fingers absentmindedly when the thought arrives that maybe you should declare your secret little project. The song you wrote with Renjun in mind, that is. You should admit that it’s really just a nicer way of saying you wrote a song for him.

Astounding, isn’t it? This should be the part where you feel your pulse quicken. It’s just a song and the nights spent with him on the keyboards, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes has given you a head full of rhythm and song. It’s just a song.

You’d do anything for a good song.

But first, you need your audio converter fixed. The damn thing’s been generating noise all on its own, when it’s clearly your job.

“I need to go to Yongsan,” you say, picking up your bag. “We can find inspiration along the way, can’t we Renjun?”

“Why do we need to go—”

“Oh, get me some replacement strings for my guitar,” Donghyuck chirps.

“And a new pair of drumsticks,” Jeno says, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You sigh. He really needs to stop breaking those. Where do drummers get such unparalleled rage on a drum set?

You walk over to the door before turning back and sending a pointed look at Renjun.

“I… have to?” he asks, and the look in his eyes almost makes you pity him. If anything, he’s having it worse than the rest of you are, with balancing the weekly gigs and practising for his piano recitals, though he never studies like the rest. You feel sorry but clearly, not enough.

“Yes,” you reply hurriedly. “Quick, get up, come on, we’re wasting time.”

“Okay, okay! Don’t pull my shirt!”

It’s so easy to get Renjun to do things these days. You bite back a smile as he fixes his collar, features still disgruntled by your (over)enthusiasm. His bag is cuter than you thought for someone who dresses punk (“It’s not punk,” he’d snapped, after re-dyeing his hair yet again.), with three different moomin keychains hanging against a baby blue hue.

You should know better than to let yourself think about someone so much.

The subway is absolutely lovable when it isn’t rush hour.

Skyscrapers nearly aren’t as looming as they are on rainy days, but you make your way through a still busy city, the heart of it beating like a snare drum with each passing moment. A little rain cannot stop Seoul.

Renjun walks beside you explaining how you should really look into this new underground artist you’ve already listened to three times this week because of him. He never seems to understand that you are, in fact, capable of remembering the things he says.

“I wrote a song about you,” you say abruptly.

Very smooth.

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Like as a gift? A fan song? I’m so flatter—”

“No, stupid,” you interrupt, shifting your eyes upon irrelevant surrounding details. “It’s not about you. I just thought you’d like it.”

You pause.

“Yeah, it’s a little bit about you. A gift for joining. You can sing it to yourself in the shower or something.”

“You know, I feel really offended when you call me stupid.”

You glare at him. His ears are tinged red but right now, you’re a little more than done with his insults. Sure, you make mistakes—like dropping a full open can of soda on your own lap or submitting the wrong assignment to the wrong professor—but at least you’re not cynical Huang Renjun, incapable of making mistakes at all. It would be much more infuriating if you hadn’t seen Renjun drooling in his sleep or vigorously wipe at his nose after having snacks too spicy for his own good. You suppress a retort.

You reach the subway entrance taking slower steps than usual; but time is not a constraint here.

“It’s not a diss track, is it?” Renjun asks, suddenly doubtful.

You can’t help your laugh (and horrifically, snorts), in turn evoking a smile in Renjun.

“No, it isn’t,” you assure, before grabbing his wrist and skipping down the steps, Renjun’s panicked voice yelling at you to slow down.

“Can you not do that?” he complains, massaging his wrist at the subway platform.

“You made it through without tripping,” you reason, sticking your tongue out at him.

He reaches out to flick your forehead but you cover it just in time, a grin blooming across both your faces at this childish playfight. The train arrives with an almost soundless screech and you hop on slowly with anticipation in your footsteps.

“So what is it about?” Renjun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees.

“You,” you respond, nonchalant.

“Very informative.”

The noise of the trains keeps the moment engaged, chuffing throughout as busy as they are.

Renjun lets out a barely audible gasp. “It’s not a- It’s not a love song, is it?”

You laugh, amused.

“Renjun, I knew you were arrogant but not this arrogant,” you tease.

He flushes hotly, and there’s that feeling again—that maybe you’re wrong. Maybe you don’t have anything else to hang on to and music is the only ledge left.

You wrinkle your nose before shaking yourself off the feeling. Rainy days always do this.

“Besides,” you say, “I’m still going to score you that hot date with star pianist number one, aren’t I?”

“Not number one,” he begins before hesitating. “That’s… not necessary but thanks.”

You punch him swiftly and he responds with an oof, clutching the ball of his shoulder.

“Don’t be shy,” you complain. “That’s not fun.”

“Well, I’m not fun,” he retorts. “I don’t need to be. I like having a working brain.”

You send him an exaggerated hurt look, hand reaching to pull at his cheek before it gets swatted away. Somehow, in this exact moment, you find a new tune and it doesn’t seem to be the end of your search. You contemplate saving it in your voice memos but you figure a noisy subway train is the last place to record. Besides, you don’t want to lose the look in Renjun’s eyes when he’s talking about how impressive the new relocated concert hall is.

“It’s called Not Feeling Spring,” you say when the train doors open to your station.

Renjun raises an eyebrow, somewhat disbelieving, although you’re not sure of what.

“You’ve definitely packed some insults in there,” he accuses.

You look at him, defeated. “Trust me.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

Step, step, splash.

“Ew,” Renjun says, shaking his foot after landing on a particularly damp part of the sidewalk. They really should have evened out the path when laying the pavement. But unfortunately for Renjun, he’s already stepped onto rainwater in bright yellow converse.

It’s not just his shoes that look like daisies could bloom over them either—there’s paint over his denim jacket in pictures you’re aware that Renjun himself painted. A nice little touch, but not a very smart choice for a garment. How unlike him, you think to yourself when you hear him sigh and complain about the weather.

“So this is your famous shop?” Renjun asks, eyeing the discoloured walls of the store by the shop.

“You’re doing your thing again,” you reply, face souring.

He looks baffled. “What thing?”

“Your thing. The one where you act all cynical.”

“I’m not cynical.” He crosses his arms.

“Great, you’re even cynical about being cynical.”

Inside is, of course, as warm as ever. The walls are vibrant red, in stark contrast with the exterior and you think you see Renjun’s face grow pinkish. You smile at the man behind the counter, in his late fifties and smile still somehow as bright as yours.

“What’s the problem, dear?” he asks, glancing at your laptop. “You know I can’t help with software issues.”

“I know,” you say, “But I’ve tried every guide on the internet and there’s still unnecessary noise.”

He clicks around your screen for a few seconds.

“Have you tried getting a better mic?”

“Uh.”

Renjun snickers beside you before promptly apologizing at the two pairs of eyes on him. You didn’t bring him here just to embarrass yourself in front of him. Your cheeks flush as you tell the man you’ll come another day with your mic, before heading to the supplements aisle. Renjun follows you quietly, silent laughter yet still etched over his face and he looks away when you glare at him.

“Are you sure you wanna buy the wooden drumsticks?” Renjun asks, picking up the carbon fibre ones instead.

“Jeno loves the wooden ones,” you defend. “And you really think those are within my budget?”

Renjun shrugs, keeping them back in place.

“Feels like I’m shopping for babies,” he mutters.

There’s a second’s pause before he straightens, a particular discomfort in his being. “Not- Not like my babies or something. I- I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” you say, trying very hard to hold in your laughter.

“I don’t like that face you’re making.”

“You don’t always have to explain yourself,” you smile before heading to the counter.

The scent of rain makes you nostalgic. You step outside with Renjun and into the sound of rain against pavement. It’s wet and damp, and your hair clings to your skin in that horrific discomfort of humidity, truly one of the worst cruelties of rain. You make a face but an idea strikes you smack across the forehead.

You gasp.

“This can be our stage!” you declare, spreading your arms.

Renjun pulls your arms down. “Don’t block the sidewalk!”

“Sorry.”

You shove your bag onto Renjun, bewildering him even further. The sleeves of the jacket he rolled up, fall into place again as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“This,” you say, waving your arms about, “Should be a stage.”

“Huh?”

Renjun looks unconvinced at your flailing and you sigh.

“The rain!” you say, trying to sound as enthusiastic as you can. “Isn’t it romantic? You’ve never thought what it would be like playing in the rain?”

“Uh, inconvenient?”

You groan. “Come on! Picture it for a second.”

You give it a moment before showing him what you mean. Renjun bursts into laughter at your air guitar performance, suddenly unaware of the pit-a-pat.

“It would be nice,” he says, his teeth poking against his lips. He places the bags under the shaded entrance of the store before stepping into the drizzle.

Pitter, patter.

Renjun flashes you a goofy smile, shaking the water out of his hair only for the rain to come in stronger. With raindrops caught on eyelashes, you can only think of the soft, rising melodies that come in movie scenes like these, except it’s a lot more uncomfortable than they show it to be. You smoothen your hair, getting slightly frizzy due to the raindrops. You’ve always wanted to do things out of line and out of regularity and it’s not just because of the price sticker spelling ‘youth’ that clings to your back—but now, is it selfish to just want to stay under the rain?

In a way it feels just the same as ever; like singing barefoot on an asphalt road, cooling rains and people around, without a care each. You tell Renjun about the time you were stranded by the bus stop under heavy downpour for so long, you decided to walk home with pneumonia a step behind you and he tells you that you’re an idiot. It’s nothing unusual but it makes you smile when he laughs at you.

The rain slows again before you can start to shiver, chest rising and falling with each breath that fills your lungs.

“I have a song!” you declare, eyes shining. “A love song. We’ve never done a love song.”

“A love song?” Renjun asks, laughing almost. “You want to write a radio love song? Why?”

“Because, Huang Renjun, there’s not a thing in the world that isn’t made for love.”

Renjun pauses before wrinkling his nose. “Don’t preach me.”

The clap of thunder startles the two of you out of calm. It’s not so much the screams that left your mouths simultaneously as the looks you get from passersby. Renjun looks at you the same time as you look at him, his ears red and eyes nervous.

“Lightning doesn’t- Lightning doesn’t strike in the middle of the city, does it?” Renjun asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, like a hare stranded in the middle of a busy road.

“I don’t know!” You respond, pulling him by the sleeve to the nearest cover. “I don’t want to know.”

Renjun grabs your hand and you realize with a thump in your heart the effect of it. He pulls you to the side, saving your jeans from the fate of getting splashed by muddy water courtesy of an oncoming car.

“Ooh, quick reflex,” you say, despite the clanging of cymbals inside your ribcage.

He shrugs, picking up the bags and shoving yours to your chest.

“Ow?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know why.”

“You know, you’re not as grumpy as I thought you were. You’re still petty, though.”

“Thanks.”

When you’re back to the bandroom, you find Donghyuck snoring on the couch with an even more worn out Jaemin sitting cross legged on the floor and his head against Donghyuck's knee. Jeno looks like he’s in a world of his own, tapping away at his phone in a game he seems to be losing at.

“Why are you guys wet?” Jaemin asks, cracking an eye open. “Had some life-changing experience?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “Why do you guys look dead?”

“I am dead,” Donghyuck mumbles in his sleep to which Jaemin shakes his head.

“He didn’t even do the entire cleaning…”

You hope the skip in your steps isn’t too obvious. You have a song and this time, it feels pure in a way that you haven’t made before.

“I hope you guys came up with a beat,” you call.

“Uh, about that—”

“I have a new song!” you announce bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Your declaration is met with a bunch of smiles. Soon enough, everyone in the room is up and to their positions in a matter of minutes.

Music isn’t about being eye-catching, considering the eyes have nothing to do with it anyway. You signal Renjun who in turn, clears his throat.

A strum of guitar string. Four notes on the keys. Bass. A beat on the drums.

“One. Two. Ah, one, two, three, four!”

The cafeteria is jam packed at three a.m so it’s a good thing you brought Renjun here an hour early. So, your top secret, full resistance, avant-garde mission? Your new song and the one for Renjun, of course.

“So this is top secret,” you whisper when he sits down from across you.

“I’m sure it is,” he snickers.

You pass your notebook to him, scribbles neater than usual. (That’s only because you rewrote the song in a new page.) You start your laptop, waiting for the screen to load as Renjun goes over the lines.

“My dreams and I don’t get along,” Renjun reads aloud before furrowing his brows.

Ah, I hate people.

I hate my friends too.

And I love saying that which isn’t true.

“Oh, very funny, (name),” Renjun scorns, crossing his arms. “Is that what you think of me?”

You chuckle to yourself. Maybe it was a little petty, but you love the look on Renjun’s face when he’s annoyed, nerves a second away from being completely fried. Just for fun. This was just for fun.

Somewhere along, however, you can’t deny the essence of him you’d so hopelessly wanted to capture in the melody, in rhythm and timbre, orchestral almost. It’s each note of the piano he plays to himself late at night in the bandroom, each featherlight hit on the cymbal and the song you hum to yourself on the bus ride to classes every morning.

It’s a love song.

You break into a sudden coughing fit at the thought, Renjun flinching before offering you his bottle of water. Somehow, the gentle hand on your back trying to ease you gives you yet another reason to support your unwanted epiphany. That’s just ridiculous. It’s something natural between friends, isn’t it? Yet, you’d gag at the idea of writing Donghyuck into a song.

You calm down and meet Renjun’s eyes, the glint of something familiar making you pause.

“Water?” he offers, and you straighten.

“I had the stupidest thought,” you say, trying to laugh it off.

You can’t do it. You can’t make light of it with him.

“When do you not?” he says, a soft smile on his face.

You smile awkwardly in response, avoiding his eyes as you rub circles on the soft flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

It’s quiet, much more than not, distant buzzing of the 3 a.m. university cafeteria crowds drifting through the space between you and him.

“Do you ever- Do you ever think about doing it?” Renjun asks.

You blink before feeling warmth on your cheeks.

“Doing what, Renjun? That’s a little too private to ask. I mean, I could answer, of c—”

It doesn’t take long for him to burn bright vermillion at the cheeks.

“I- I didn’t say that,” he defends, stuttering over the words. “I was talking about making music. Do you ever think about it or do you just do it?”

“Oh,” you respond intelligently, the embarrassment making you flush harder. Funny, you used to laugh the loudest at these sorts of mistakes. “I don’t- I don’t know. I think about it after I’ve… made it?”

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly.

“You… do like it, don’t you?” he asks, something akin to worry in his eyes.

You hum, smiling. “Of course I like it, Renjun.”

No. The truth is, you don’t even know how it makes you feel. The truth is, you do feel sick listening to your own song over and over again. Have you run far enough? Do you have to be running for this?

You seem scared. Is that what he wanted to tell you? You can’t be that easy to see through, you resist. When he held your hand earlier, could he feel it shake?

You’re so afraid that all of this is for naught that you can’t feel it anymore. You hardly make music for yourself, for no one else to hear. Is that what you wanted? When you wrote Not Feeling Spring, were you searching for something you desperately wanted or something you lost? You’re only twenty and you’re aging.

You snap yourself out of the whirlpool of questions to a drowsy Renjun playing with the bracelet around his wrist, lost in his own circle of thoughts.

“I wanted to give up on this,” he whispers suddenly. “I wanted to give up on music.”

You hold your breath till he looks at you, a strange sense of vulnerability that makes you want to reach over the table and share some of the warmth your palm offers.

You’ve already drawn the conclusion.

“You’re not alone,” you say, leaning in with the widest grin.

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Are you saying that to comfort me? It barely has any effect. Thanks, th—”

You shake your head, standing up abruptly and scrambling onto the tabletop. It’s the perfect time to be a little ridiculous. Renjun looks around, alarmed, tugging at you to get down which, unfortunately, draws even more attention.

“Raise your hand if you’ve ever wanted to give up on music!”

There’s a moment of pause before laughter erupts, followed by a few cheers and almost as many raised hands as you’d expected. Some of them tell you to get back to your date, or focus on completing overdue assignments—friends and friends of friends. They are music students, after all.

Renjun looks around the place, rosy hued in the face, though he isn’t as angry as you thought he’d be.

“I almost never started,” you say, giggling as you resume in your seat. “Giving up came so much later.”

Renjun laughs. You don’t even have to make music out of it.

“I tried to give up the piano,” he admits, still flushed. “But I couldn’t break the habit of playing against my desk. Even then.”

You smile, resting your chin against your palm. “That sounds just like you. Now tell me, when did you discover flumpool?”

Renjun frowns and you feel an uncharacteristic thump in your chest. You want to draw your finger against his cheeks and the space between his brows, against the strained lines—the thought of it much more scandalous than the action itself.

“I didn’t- My parents didn’t- ugh.” He hesitates. “Look, everyone hated my style of music. My parents, the neighbours, their dogs.

Your eyes soften as you sit up. “I’m sure they didn’t hate it—”

“No, trust me on this one.”

Suddenly the honey tint of his voice is dripping a dangerously low baritone. It doesn’t sound like him and it sends a shiver down your spine, a certain coldness you never thought would seep into you. It is the loneliness of curbed dreams, after all.

“I thought I should’ve given up on music altogether. Became, what, a doctor? A lawyer?” Renjun sighs. “Whatever I do, it shouldn’t be music, right?”

He heaves a sigh in sync with you. There’s a passing moment in between where you can clearly see the apple of his eye, shining a daunting amber and a warmth you can only feel over coffee tables in university cafeterias at midnight.

“But you’re here now because this is the closest you can be to music?” you offer, your smile sheepish.

Renjun laughs, your eyebrows furrowing as he tries to stop. “No. No, classical music was the last option on their list—but it was on the list.”

You smile, although it is small and gentle. And—unlike anything you’ve felt since you jumped onto the adulthood train.

“They like it now, though,” he beams, shoulders relaxing as if rid of a burden.“I mean- They said- They said they’re proud of me.”

When someone decides to confide their happiness to you, it is just as precious.

You look up, eyes bright as you finally get to ruffle his hair. “Well, I’m proud of you too!”

Renjun coughs indiscreetly, shaking his head before facing you. “Th-Thanks. It’s… good to hear.”

“Say it back,” you demand, making Renjun laugh.

“I’m… proud of you,” he says with rose-tinted cheeks.

The midnight chatter grows louder when the two of you pause. A symphony of voices through the area, higher pitches and lower, baritones and trebles. You wonder what people talk about most when you are quiet. You have friends—it’s not like you’re alone, per se. But everyone seems to be running, away from something or towards something. Your bones feel heavy for a second as you stir the coffee. Is it selfish to just want to get to know someone? Neither of you moving a muscle, with laughter that isn’t carried away by the wind.

“I didn’t think I’d be good at anything apart from classical,” he says, reluctance in his mouth. “Sorry about all that ruckus I caused when you asked me to join.”

You raise an eyebrow, nose wrinkling at the apology. “Renjun. It sucks when you apologize.”

He groans. “You’re really annoying, you know that? I was being nice.”

“I know,” you say, grinning. “It was all forgiven a long time ago. Can’t believe you had to say it out loud.”

“Oh, pardon me,” he says, voice rising. “I was taking into consideration your below average understanding of social cues.”

“You’re going to get smacked.”

That night, when you leave Renjun at the intersection to your respective dorms, you have yet another unwanted epiphany. He waves you goodbye with a smile, pale blue T-shirt hanging loose on his shoulders and you wave back as ardently as you can against your prominent heartbeat. Huang Renjun has the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen.

Some days, you take the bus together to and from classes. It’s not like the dorms are far but walks are considerably less fun when you’ve barely rubbed the sleep dust out of your eyes and class started ten minutes ago. Besides, you’re not letting the student bus pass go to waste.

Rattle. Rattle. Woosh.

You yawn and it quickly spreads to Renjun beside you. Classes are over and there’s no practice today. You can hear a popular song play through his earphones and tilt your head to look at him, a suppressed smile on your face. Renjun does a double take when he notices you, a little flustered as he quietly offers the other earbud and you put it on with a short word of thanks.

It is a track by one of Seoul’s favourite bands and you’re not going to lie, say you haven’t fallen prey to its charms. A catchy baseline, engaging drums and attractive vocals—you stop yourself. When was the last time you enjoyed a song without deconstructing it piece by piece? You sigh and Renjun shifts beside you, though no words part from his lips.

Absentmindedly, you find your head drawing nearer to his till they bump once and you startle away, only to laugh at each other. Is this another useless epiphany of yours? That Renjun has a lovely laugh—these are getting out of hand.

You look out the window instead, skyscrapers shiny and metallic as always and with little to offer. Unwittingly, a pout climbs onto your face at the prospect of feelings bubbling up right when you’re setting Renjun up on a date. He doesn’t know, of course. It’s meant to be a surprise and somehow, the little voice in your head won’t stop yelling at maximum volume inside your head about how wrong this is. Is it selfish? To an extent—nothing ever is purely selfless and you haven’t lived long enough to question. So why are you even bothering with this whole surprise?

Because you don’t want to think about the feelings. As if they’re things to be thought about. As if you can throw them away into the trash bin like a crumpled piece of paper.

An elderly couple boards the bus, sharing a large shopping bag as they take slow, careful steps over the aisle. Renjun responds almost at the same time you do, getting up so quickly Renjun has to hold on to the strap so as to not trip over you. The couple thanks you and you nod politely, trying not to bring attention to the earphones tangled around your necks.

You take a step closer in an attempt to separate the wires but it only makes you lose balance, Renjun clutching the cloth at your back so you don’t faceplant right into him. The other hand hangs overhead on the strap, grasping so tight his skin has turned red.

He glances at the old couple once, blood rushing to his cheeks at something and he turns his focus back to you.

“The- The wires- We should—”

Young love isn’t what this is. How silly. There’s enough of that all around.

“That’s what I was trying,” you interrupt. “Wait.”

You use your hands to pull the bud from your ear, trying to figure out how the loop even coiled this way. Renjun’s hand pushes against your waist at the sudden jerk, your soul almost leaving your body at the unexpected feeling of falling down. You breathe out, cheeks getting warmer. This isn’t quite uncomfortable, though.

When you look up to meet Renjun’s eyes, you feel something faint, a hint of something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“There,” you say, the wires all out of their miserable twining.

Renjun barely nods, the music still blasting loud and clear through the buds. His hand still holds the strap for balance, and the other still holds you, for reasons private.

There’s a warm flush over his face when he mumbles about crowded buses and the afternoon heat, eyes averted to every corner but you.

You laugh. Renjun is adorable when he least expects to be. And when you least expect him to be, he’s even terribly attractive. You swear by the way he’s looking at you, if you leaned in a little further, he’d let you kiss him.

Wait, what?

You sober up quickly, in a moment of clarity you do not wish to have. You’ve never felt the weight of the feelings this intense. Yours isn’t the name he should be calling out so affectionately. Her. Anyone else. You were so sure of it. Huang Renjun’s fleeting interest in romance doesn’t involve you—cannot involve you.

That’s why you’re doing him (and yourself) a favour. Besides, you promised it anyway, didn’t you?

You gulp.

When did you start explaining yourself for everything you do?

Step, screech, step.

“Where the fuck are you even taking me?” Renjun complains from behind you, light on his foot. “You said it’s not too far away.”

“It’s a surprise!” You stop walking to cross your arms.

“I hate it when you say that.”

How would he react? You think he’ll get a little angry, maybe scowl at you or even yell a little. You haven’t been able to look him in the eye longer than two seconds for about a week now.

“Ta-da!”

You stretch your arms to point towards the new cafe in town. Renjun looks at you and then the cafe and back again.

“You’re taking me on a coffee date?”

You choke on air, coughing before you can clear your throat and clarify.

“Not- Not me. Remember I promised you a date with—”

“No.”

“Yes! Wait, is that disbelieving no or are you saying you’re not going to go?”

Renjun closes his eyes and sighs, as if dealing with a toddler. “I’m not going. Why didn’t you say anything? I’m not prepared or anything!”

Something takes a tumble and falls inside your chest. You smile at him nevertheless.

“Don’t be shy now. She’s waiting, come on.”

Renjun shifts his weight from foot to foot, but it seems equally uncomfortable on each. He peers intently at you, looking up and down your face before pressing his lips together.

“Have fun,” you wish.

You push Renjun towards the door and he hesitates, some part of you expecting a little more resistance. He shrugs, although he seems to be holding back a smile. This isn’t the time, you tell yourself.

You turn on your heel before you lose your final excuse to be able to say that you are not completely enamored with Huang Renjun.

The afternoon would be more peaceful if it weren’t for Donghyuck and Renjun yelling at each other. This time, you’re not to blame.

“That’s not how you tie a bow tie!” Donghyuck complains, though Renjun won’t let him anywhere near.

“I know you’re trying to get back at me for drawing on your face last Saturday,” Renjun yells back. “But this is the pre-annual concert. You’re not fucking anything up.”

Donghyuck grumbles before settling down. Four music performance majors and yet none of them know how to do a bow tie—if it weren’t for you, Renjun might have ended up with his usual askew one. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking, and you’d just rather not look at him too long anyway.

Formal white shirt, a much debated black bow tie and polished black dress shoes on Renjun aren’t strange to look at—in fact, they quite suit him when, despite its striking colour, his hair is parted neatly to the side. But they’re all so out of place in the bandroom, monochrome against messes, that you start to wonder if you simply think too much about him. That all of his colours and melodies are just there for you to notice.

It’s not true, of course.

But when did you become a cynic?

“I’m going out,” Donghyuck says, huffing, “Why are they taking so long to buy ramen?”

Oh no. No, no, no. You try to mask your panic. Is one person enough to check up on Jaemin and Jeno? Would it be weird if you left too? Before you can answer those questions, you and Renjun are the only ones left in the room. You stand awkwardly by the couch, Renjun a few feet away, smoothing out the creases on his shirt.

You clear your throat, bringing his attention to you.

Nice going.

“So how was your date?”

You had to ask that, didn’t you?

The voice in your head has never been so loud before. When your question goes unanswered, you look up from the highly interesting floorboards to Renjun trying very hard to fight a snort.

“We talked about the recitals, extra lessons. Joked about you being an idiot.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“Chaerim’s not interested in guys.” Renjun laughs. “I thought you knew!”

There’s a pause.

“Wait, you were serious about setting me up with her?”

You stare a little too intensely at the space between your feet. Why would you choose now of all times to be coy? You keep yourself from swearing out loud.

“I- I didn’t know, okay?”

You feel the heat over your cheeks, the sound of everything other than your own heartbeat drowning out. A few more seconds pass and you worry more.

“Don’t set me up on dates,” Renjun says, a sigh leaving his lips. “It’ll never work out.”

“What? Why?”

Renjun falters only to cover it up. “I- I… Why do you keep avoiding me?”

You can’t answer that.

“Setting me up on a date, never looking at me when you talk to me—are you going by the book or something?”

You hold your breath. He’s not misunderstanding and it only makes matters worse.

“All that because you don’t want to be in love with me?”

“Renjun, that’s not—”

“So what is it?”

You look up from your restless fingers and regret it almost immediately. The way Renjun looks at you, it damn near breaks your heart. His nose is a pale shade of red, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with undecided words.

“Am I- Am I dreaming everything up? Just tell me you don’t like me. I thought I made myself obvious.”

You can feel your pulse against your eardrums, ready to burst open any second.

“Renjun. It’s not about this,” you say, voice strangely low. “It’s about music—It’s always about music. I can’t risk anything.”

“Risk? What risk? You’re afraid you’re going to stop making music when you’re with me?”

“No—”

“You just want your songs on the Billboard charts?

“And what if I do? I just want to be heard—”

You can barely breathe at the lack of distance between the two of you. Renjun looks straight into your eyes and you remember why your heart has been hammering in the first place.

“So it isn’t about music.”

You fall silent. It’s not wrong to want to succeed. But it’s never been about that. You were preparing yourself for a race while you repeated your love for it that was never there. Music is not a race and so, it is not the race you love.

“I didn’t want to be rich or famous,” Renjun says, voice lower than usual. “I don’t want to be rich or famous.”

But a musician does not want to be forgotten, does he?

For once, Renjun is fearless and you are not.

“There are worse things,” Renjun says, breath against your cheek and a rapid pulsing in your wrists. You look from his eyes to lips before breathing out slowly, eyelids growing heavy despite yourself.

The sudden bang makes the two of you jump away from each other.

Donghyuck kicks the door open, hands occupied with steaming instant ramen cups and Jeno walks in with the sprite.

“Jaemin’s paying and we forgot our wallets,” Jeno offers an explanation when you raise an eyebrow.

You clear your throat awkwardly as the two scrutinize you with eyes you’re not yet ready to meet. You know you’ll never hear the end of this and better yet, you can pretend it never happened.

“Aren’t you supposed to get going?” Jeno asks, struggling to balance this month’s entire supply of ramen while Donghyuck holds the top of the pile.

Renjun responds with a soft ‘yeah’, eyes glancing at you once before he grabs his coat.

“I’ll see you for practice then.”

With that, the sounds inside your chest draw to a deafening close.

You’d think Doyoung would perform with his own band at his brother’s wedding.

(“I don’t want to work on the day my brother gets married.”

“I thought you work as a bartender?”

“Oh, dear.”)

You’re not complaining, of course. The longer you spend in the bandroom, the more suffocated you feel. You can’t meet Renjun’s eyes and neither can he meet yours. You rejected him, for fuck’s sake. It cannot get any more awkward than that. Any distraction will do.

This might be the first time you’ve been to a wedding on a Thursday night. At the very least, you’re happy about it being an outdoor wedding, the cool night air refreshing you the moment you step into the garden. It’s fairly large and you know Doyoung’s brother is an actor, but it never really struck you how wealthy that meant.

“There’s a chocolate fountain?!” Donghyuck gasps, walking towards it before Jaemin grabs him by the collar.

“Stage. We’re being called.”

Donghyuck massages his neck before he decides to give everyone an unnecessary pep talk.

“Look, Renjun, you better sing like that’s your ex, who you’re still in love with, getting married,” Donghyuck turns to advise a deadpanning Renjun.

“I- what? You should do that yourself.”

You smile at them encouragingly, smacking Donghyuck a little too hard on the back (you need payback for him “borrowing” your lunch on Monday) and stand at the sidelines. Donghyuck’s guitar seems to be the brightest thing in the venue, followed by Renjun’s hair. Unfortunately for Jeno, they couldn’t get the whole drum set in and the puppy dog look on his face when he sees the box-shaped cajón might have affected you some other day.

They perform as usual, if not more enthusiastic to be in front of a crowd that isn’t drunk or worn out or both. The love songs you wrote came to be useful, after all. The muse of them, however, stands out even now.

This time, your heart skips a beat to meet Renjun’s eyes. And he doesn’t take them off you the entire performance.

The soft vibrato of his voice doesn’t fade easy, the crowd clapping along to the song with encouraging laughter. You move to the drinks table—it’s a good thing the wedding has a no kids rule because there’s alcohol you haven’t heard of at the bar table. Or maybe it isn’t a good thing. You’d love to see the look on Doyoung’s face when some rebellious twelve year-old chugs a shot of vodka. The thought makes you giggle.

You keep your word, even if you were drunk when you’d said it. You didn’t drink at any of the gigs, mostly because Doyoung wouldn’t offer anything for free, but a deal’s a deal. This doesn’t count, does it?

You take the shot after a few moments of contemplation. You’d ordered it on impulse and whatever dare of whim you have left in you.

Unbeknownst to you, the songs had stopped about five minutes ago, enough time for Renjun and the rest to appear at your side.

“Doyoung never said there’d be alcohol,” Donghyuck says, not trying very hard to hide the sparkles in his eyes.

Renjun doesn’t say a word, not even at the obvious flush over your cheeks from the drinks.

“I need to go to the washroom,” you say, wobbling as you stand.

“Woah, (name),” Jaemin says, steadying you. “Take someone with you.”

“I’ll go.”

You avoid Renjun’s eyes, even now. Looks like shame isn’t as easy to wash away as it seems.

You can’t hear anything apart from your pulse, a rather disarming thing to have to listen to when it’s for long enough. You walk wordlessly to the building, locating the washroom after a few twists and turns and Renjun waits patiently for you outside.

It’s always bizarre to see yourself in the mirror of a public washroom, especially with alcohol in your system and a flush over your cheeks that you think makes you look cute. You rinse your face and dry it before you exit.

Renjun leans back against the wall, eyes glazed over in thoughts he spills only occasionally. He looks gentle in the fairly lit hallway, under lemon-coloured lights.

“Renjun,” you call absentmindedly.

He straightens immediately and for the first time in a while, you stare at each other for longer than four seconds.

“I don’t want you to feel awkward around me,” you begin. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean—”

“Cut it out.”

You feel a drop in your heart at the harshness in his tone. Even so, you don’t feel any less drawn to him.

“Don’t be like that,” you say, voice nearing a whine. “You know I’m not any good at this. I… I have so much work to do.”

“Are you so insecure that you can't trust yourself?” he hisses, and somehow the truth of it doesn’t lessen the euphoria of proximity with him.

“You have pretty eyes, Renjun,” you say, but his eyes are not what you’re looking at.

Renjun looks down, sighing out heavily. “Stop this, (name). Don’t play.”

You smile. “This isn’t a drama, you know?”

It really isn’t, but the touch you're craving has been collecting, drip drip drip, and now it’s ready to boil over in a climax befitting any stupid drama. There should be a soundtrack to go with it, right? Renjun’s face so near to yours, lips full and pink, and heartbeat erratic under dim lights. Temptation has never been a sin to you. Then, what are you afraid of?

For a moment, Arctic Monkey’s Snap Out of It loops in your head.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, the last shred of your senses fallen apart.

He falls silent, at a loss for words you don’t want to hear.

You can’t blame the alcohol. It’s not that you wouldn’t do this sober—it’s that you would definitely do this sober, and all would be ruined just like that. So now, while you’re under the thinly veiled excuse of being drunk, you might as well say it.

“I want to kiss you,” you repeat, bolder.

Oh, sudden proximity can make you aware of so many things. For instance, Renjun has changed his cologne, less minty and more citrus. You aren’t even looking at him when you lean closer, pressing your lips softly and yet carelessly against his. You feel returned pressure and for a moment, the wash of numbness.

Renjun pulls you away by the shoulder, eyes wide in panic.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you apologizing? God, I hate you. I could listen to you speaking forever.”

You bury your face in Renjun’s neck and breathe in. He gives in almost too soon, a hand gently resting against the back of your head while his arm wraps around your waist.

“Let’s get you home,” he whispers.

You feel him shift, the rhythm of his pulse loud in his jugular, and somehow it makes you breathe a sigh of relief. The night fades little by little into the chatter of crowds, to the the hum of a car engine and finally, to the inevitable quiet of your own bedroom.

It’s a Friday. They’re supposed to be nice.

Of course, it would be were it not for a list of things. One: your fading hangover. Two: the vague regret of a drunk kiss. Three: your friends you can’t tell a word to. You might just die of shame before the autumnal existential dread settles in.

“Do you guys have any idea whose number this is?” Donghyuck asks, holding the handkerchief open for the rest of you to see. “I don’t want to be accidentally related to Doyoung hyung.”

The night is bleeding into the evening outside as Jaemin stands up to flip the light switches. You stay curled up at one side of the couch, Renjun by the keys as he tries to figure out a tune and a state of calm that would be perfect if you weren’t falling apart inside. The bandroom always made you feel at ease, but it doesn't seem to be working its charm now.

“You drink too much,” Jaemin states. “You would’ve remembered if you didn’t have an entire bottle of soju.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” he defends, sending you a pointed look. You roll your eyes. Donghyuck never did learn to take the blame.

“Didn’t Renjun and (name) leave early?” Jeno asks innocently. “What were you guys doing for so long by the washroom?”

Renjun presses on several of the keys at a force too hard, the haphazard symphony bringing everyone’s attention to him.

He awkwardly clears his throat. “Home—the dorms, er. We went back. Taeil hyung drove us.”

You don’t know about the atmosphere, but you could definitely cut something with a knife right now. Your eyes shift from person to person, nothing unusual about them except for the two of you.

“Does anyone want to come get ramen? I’m hungry,” Jaemin suggests quietly.

Jeno shrugs, getting up.

“I just had a cup of ramen,” Donghyuck begins before breaking into a smile. “Too much ramen can never hurt.”

“I’ll pass,” you say, ready to fall asleep any moment, if it somehow alleviates the messy scribbles in your head.

“Me too,” Renjun says, back to playing out the tunes softly.

Your fingers tap against the armrest of the couch, occasionally scratching it out of boredom. The atmosphere is still just as thick but you can't say much about it hanging there.

“You’re not sleeping,” Renjun says suddenly, more of a statement than a question. “You look tired.”

“Yeah.” It’s all you can manage.

“Is your hangover gone?”

You cough when you try to answer, getting more nervous with each passing moment.

Renjun slowly walks towards the coffee table, picking up the bottle of water to offer it to you. You utter a short ‘thanks’ and before he can get back, you tug at his sleeve. Your breathing is sharp but you don’t react much when he sits beside you, legs outstretched in front of him.

“Your roots are showing,” you note, hand involuntarily reaching out before you stop yourself.

Renjun sighs. “What’s wrong? You don’t- You don’t have to—”

He clears his throat.

“—You don’t have to pretend around me.”

There’s a rustle of cloth as he shifts to turn to you, eyes concerned when they look over.

“I’m just...sad,” you admit, the feeling weighing down when you do. “What, you never have days like these?”

Everyone does, don’t they? The truth is, sometimes you get a little sick listening to your songs. If you don’t hate it at least once, is it worth it at all?

The monthly breakdowns have taken a hard turn now that you don’t have much to do. No exams, no more weekly gigs due to Odd Fruit’s renovation and most importantly, hardly any inspiration. You don’t know how to do things unless you’re on the run. It’s so stupid.

You speak of dreams and yet, yours feel void.

“I do. A lot, some weeks.”

Renjun hesitates. You know he’s dying to talk about last night, he’s never been the sort to let feelings rot inside his stomach. But how do you tell him that despite knowing life’s full of ups and downs, no one’s bothered to explain to you which is which? You’ve never lived life with clarity.

Sometimes life hands you tangerines instead of lemons. Sometimes they’re still as sour.

You look back at Renjun, heart churning with feelings you don’t understand. From wide eyes to his full lips, there’s a way you can’t help but stare. It wasn’t the alcohol—you still want to kiss him. Maybe you should start with an apology, maybe those are meant to be said out loud sometimes.

“I’m sorry I… I ‘m sorry I kissed you,” you say, finally. “Without warning.”

You wonder how you turned into this. Head over heels for something that might not even be real.

“I’m not mad,” he mumbles, “Just don’t go around kissing strangers.”

You let out a short laugh, rubbing your arm. It’s not like you to explain yourself but for him, you’d spill every single thought that crosses your head. Does he know that? You’d never let him but now—you can’t say you mind.

Quiet.

“I- I may not always know what I’m doing, Renjun,” you start. “I want things and I don’t know how to get them. Sometimes I don’t even know what I truly want.”

There’s a short pause when Renjun draws nearer.

“You want to make music,” he says with certainty, gaze trailing over your eyes, then nose, then lips. “You want to have fun…”

Your heartbeat quickens despite everything.

“...And right now, you want to kiss me.”

It’s partly the confidence, and partly the fact that his lips are less than three inches from yours, that you close the gap without hesitation.

It’s different—of course, it’s different this time. There’s no goddamn alcohol and the amount of clarity you can taste with your mouths pressed together is more than you’ve ever had. All the sounds in the world fall silent, replaced by the rhythm of your lips moving against his. Renjun’s hair is soft and he hums when you run your fingers through them, not song enough but still full of melody.

You pull apart after a few minutes, breathing heavily before you push your lips against him again, rising to keep your leg on either side of him. For a moment, there’s a sinking feeling and then a soaring one, and it evens out to the mellow drumming of your heart against your chest as Renjun holds your waist with the same delicate desire as ever.

The second time you pull apart, Renjun breaks into the widest smile you’ve ever seen on him. You can’t help but reciprocate, burying your head against his shoulder.

“I think you should get off me.”

You pull back, frowning severely.

“Oh, that’s very romantic,” you huff, eyebrows furrowed as you move to sit beside him, crossing your arms.

“Hey.”

You look at him and he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the back. Somehow, the gesture calms a part of you down, a part that hasn’t been calm for a very long time. You smile without realizing, leaning in for another kiss when the door slams open.

You yelp, clutching Renjun’s hand harder with just about the same force he does.

“Jeno.”

You turn around to see Jaemin glaring at Jeno on his knee, Donghyuck fallen over his leg and both of their faces scrunched in pain. Jaemin shoots the two of you an embarrassed smile, scratching the back of his head.

“Did you guys know this room isn’t all that soundproof? I can’t believe the neighbours didn’t complain.”

The tip of Renjun’s ears flare red, and he points an accusing finger at the three of them.

“You were spying on us!”

Jaemin clears his throat but Donghyuck snorts before he can say anything.

“You’re still holding hands, lover boy.”

The statement flusters Renjun further but he doesn’t let go.

“Look, did the two of you think we’re stupid?” Donghyuck continues. “God, we thought your pining romance would, like, break up our band or something.”

You flush deeper, averting your eyes.

“You cry at romantic comedies,” Renjun provokes.

Donghyuck stutters something incomprehensive before crossing his arms indignantly.

“We’re glad you’re dating now!” Jaemin butts in. “Ah, I can’t wait for all the love songs. The two of you do great on those!”

Renjun turns a brighter shade of red. You’re not going to be the one to tell Jaemin that he’s not helping at all but you sigh instead, resting your forehead against Renjun’s shoulder.

“Ugh,” Donghyuck makes a gagging sound. “Does this mean you’re going to be all heart eyes in here? Right in front of my innocent eyes?”

He shuts up when he receives four glares all at once, the air turning dry.

“I’m guessing you guys didn’t buy any ramen,” Renjun says, sighing.

“Shall we go?” you ask, looking at him.

He nods, smiling at you.

“You guys don’t mind us crashing your date, do you?” Jaemin says, wrapping an arm each around the two of you.

“I’m not complaining.” You shrug.

“I heard there’s a new flavour. Tastes like crap apparently,” Renjun says.

There’s collective laughter and Renjun beams, walking over to the door with you in tow. Every once in a while, you don’t mind peeling off the layers of a tangerine, especially since winter is near.

You were right, Renjun did change his perfume to something more citrus-y. It’s the little things that build up in simplicity and it’s the little things that give everything flavour, from songs to journeys.

Crackle. Shrrk. Rustle.

“Dream,” you say, the noodles slipping through the chopsticks.

The others look at you quizzically, as if you’d suggested the most ridiculous thing ever.

“That’s the name. Our band!”

Under the convenience store lights, it somehow makes sense—and that’s one of the only moments of clarity you need.

#nct dream scenarios #nct renjun #cznnet #neowritingsnet #renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #renjun fluff #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream #moonwrites #anyway hope you guys have fun this is way longer than i intended for it to be i am mad #and i know i only recommended songs from idol bands but it's always good to check out the krock scene lol!!#rock band!au #tw:alcohol #so this wont show up on tags heart been broke so many times </3

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