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ofjunemoment · 1 year

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let me teach you how to smash | park jisung

In the list of sports, ranked from most to least sexy, badminton would be found at the very bottom if not ranked last. But why is it that when Jisung plays the with a feathered shuttle your heart flutters?

OR: Jisung helps you improve your badminton skills.

pairing — badminton player!jisung x fem!reader

genre — sports!au, university!au, (one sided) enemies to friends to lovers, slight slow burn

wc — 22k (😀 huh)

content — university/sports class setting, humour, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, idols mentioned, very heavy on the dialogue/backstory at one point sorry babies <3, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags — making out, fingering, switch!jisung and reader (there's no strong dynamic tbh), protected sex, pet names (jisung gets called a good boy), lmk if I missed anything!

a/n — YAYYY i can finally share this with u guys!! i have been cooking this for some time and im actually so excited to release it!! I'm a badminton enthusiast so I went a bit ham on the descriptions and back story sorry (not rlly),, I hope this is a good readdd I read through it so much to fix it up and now Im a bit sick of it oops BUT its a story I've been wanting to write so here you go <3 enjoy!

sfw version here!

You enjoy sports.

You liked dancing sometimes — which is certainly a type of sport — and you dabbled with different sports at one point in school, but you don’t actively go out of your way to do any intense exercise. It can be sweaty and painful and maybe it’s a little like hitting the gym, but in most sports you need sportsmanship, and why would you be kind to the person who not only won but is rubbing it in your face?

You once yelled at Taeyong for kicking the ball in the wrong goal when your group of friends went out of their way to play makeshift soccer to bring back memories. You yelled, at precious Taeyong, who flinches at the sight of a fly

Okay, so you tolerate sports.

But in an effort to have your resume look pretty after finishing your degree, your friend Juda had shed light on this one program that has you do a bunch of extracurricular activities and in turn, you’ll gain extra credit. Seamless and effortless, you didn’t need to pay anything towards the program as most of the work was volunteering; like reading to kids or helping clean up lecture rooms now and then. What Juda failed to mention was the other extracurricular required of you, which was to go to a sporting class set up by the university.

Sporting classes; two hours a week minimum.

They were kind enough to provide you with options, but it still wasn't easy to choose whether you wanted two whole hours of HIIT fitness or football, which caused you to almost give up on the whole thing. Until you saw the word ‘badminton’ printed in the faintest ink, almost as if it was a mistake.

So here you are, in the campus’ sports equipment shop with Chenle, looking through what seems like badminton rackets.

“Do you think this is good?” You pick up a racket that has a mix of matte white and mint around the frame, with the string sporting the shade black, testing the weight in your hand.

“That’s a tennis racket stupid.” He goes to ruffle your hair but instead gets his hand slapped away and a frown etched on his face as you scoff at him. “I knew that,” You scowl.

“Well then don’t be an asshole about it, asshole.”

“I wasn’t being—” Both of you jump at a sudden sound that pitched in between your shoulders, as your hand flies to your chest in shock while Chenle’s eyebrow hitch up.

“Sorry?” It was Chenle who said that to the person who snuck up behind you two, his arms crossing defensively and landing on his left chest, as he positions himself subtly a little closer to you, almost as if he’s instinctively shielding him.

“Ah, sorry for surprising you; I just came to ask if you guys needed help with anything?” It was when the employee raised her ID card that was hanging on a white lanyard around her neck that Chenle’s defence began to soften as you brought your hand down, replacing the confused look on your faces with one of realisation.

“Ahh, uhm, I was wondering if you could recommend a badminton racket, nothing too fancy, maybe something to last a good two years.”

“Two years?” Chenle was the one that turned to you with a look of disbelief. The employee merely smiled and gestured her hands towards the very other side of the store and quickly turned to guide you.

“Hold on, you’re doing this stupid thing for two years? Half of your courses years? You’re just gonna voluntarily stress yourself with even more work?”

“ . . . Yes? I don’t know what to tell you, that’s my main intention. That’s why I joined this program. You’ve asked me multiple times like I’m going to miraculously change my mind and thank you for it like you’re a rich person, giving me, a homeless person, a piece of bread and then barely look at me as you record the whole thing for your livestream.” You huff while going to lie down on your back on the floor around your newly bought badminton equipment; a set of badminton rackets and some cylinder packets full of shuttlecocks, the feather ones because the plastic ones suck ass, the employee had smiled at you.

You sit up just as quickly as a dull pain shoots up your back. The motherfucking shuttlecocks.

“That’s one way to make up an analogy,” Chenle’s eyes land on the shuttlecock you had freshly crushed, now looking all squashed and disoriented. Poor thing didn’t even last a minute.

“What’s she moping about this time?” Juda’s voice echoed from the door as she places the tote bag she had brought down next to the shoe shelf.

“I’m not moping; I never mope. What do I even look like when I mope?”

“She’s just crying about the fact that she has to do this thing program for another two years.” His words elicit a shout and the gradual flinging of a nearby couch pillow from you. Chenle’s neck cracked as the pillow hit his head downwards.

“Did I kill him yet,” You voiced your disinterest, sitting up on your elbows briefly to analyse Chenle’s face before giving up and laying back down. Chenle stayed in that position for a while before getting up in a fury, ready to avenge you. Juda stopped him with a kick to his leg.

“Such disrespectful words, is it hard to show some courtesy around here?” You huff and go to lie down once more, not before feeling around the surface for any stray shuttlecock.

“When it comes to you, yes,” Juda throws Chenle a Yakult, and she flings you one straight at your stomach. You attempt not to flinch.

“Here’s to either two more years of moping about this stupid badminton class every week, or two months of hardcore whining from both of you until you break and drop out.” Juda raises her Yakult bottle and clinks it with yours — that’s still on your stomach — and against Chenle’s who was drinking out of it the moment she did so, spilling what little there was of it on his face. Chenle recovers and yells out offensively, causing Juda to squeal as she stands up and goes behind the couch, using it as her shield.

You inhale and try to tune them out.

Chenle smiles as you giggle at him, the loud music of EDM mixed with Kidz bop playing in the background as the sound of metal basketball hoop clanging echoes just enough for it to have a rhythm. He looks determined to beat the high score of this stupid basketball game, as Juda and you take turns watching him play the game and criticising his moves, even when none of you know much about basketball as he does. It’s been a few weeks since the start of the semester and hence, the beginning of your program. The kids you read to are either sleepy or disinterested as you start early in the morning, and the cleaning of lecture rooms is bearable at most times.

So things are going great at this point.

That was until Chenle called out to you: “How’s badminton going?” and, you’re not gonna lie, that did dampen your mood just by a bit, but you give your best attempt at masking it and smiling through; you didn’t want them to pick up on the fact that it’s been one lesson and you’re already sick and tired of it (or, at least sick and tired of one certain person). But Juda’s just too smart and catches on too easily with anything that you and Chenle try to brush under the rug. She raises one eyebrow at you before retorting: “What, are you whinging about it already?”

“Am not!”

“Then what is it?” Juda says at the same time that Chenle swears, a little too loud for a kids arcade, but it’s around 8 PM and the only kids that are here probably do some sort of drug or something if they have parents who allow them to be out this late.

“Nothing, okay? The coach is great and the other people who are there are fine too, and I actually learnt a lot —”

“But?” Juda’s lips are pink as she wraps them around a straw poking out from her slushie cup. You lean back in retaliation, back pressed against the basketball machine as you try to find a leeway.

“. . . But.”

You’re late. And you can’t even use the excuse that you woke up late because it’s seven p.m. and you’ve scoffed down your early dinner two hours ago. You simply decided to just procrastinate to the next level in an attempt to gauge if you truly want to continue with this program or not. But now here you are, on a bus that’s severely delayed due to the evening traffic and running frantically to make it to class on time.

Minkyung is a 50-year-old dad who coaches this class; he was also at the office where you had submitted your form for the program, and was over the moon that you had decided to try out his class, hence asking you questions about your knowledge of badminton, and went on this spiel when you had made the mistake of being truthful.

He now looks at you with a kind and wrinkly smile as your shoes squeak against the floor, one hand to your rib in an attempt to not show how much out of breath you were. “Don’t worry,” his voice was quiet enough for you to register only. “You arrived on time, I just finished the information briefing that you heard from me some time ago.” His smile was tight-lipped but genuine. Trying to even out your breathing, you set down your equipment and quickly join the rest in a circle. A clap echoes throughout the quiet hall as the coach drops his hands and clears his throat while letting out a puff of air, his eyes grazing by everyone’s heads in what you assume to be his way of counting the participants of the class.

“Glad to have everyone here today, I hope with this class you guys would not only learn about badminton but also be able to learn about its sportsmanship and benefits,” His eyes dart around the rather small circle. You expected the hall to be filled with as many students as that one Zumba class you were forced to attend in high school, but it was a rather tame class.

The coach hums, thinking about something deeply as the other students shuffle around, shifting their weight from side to side in the silence engulfing the court. He looked up and clapped again softer this time. “I’ve decided to treat you like my children’s class.” He concluded, “I want you guys to introduce yourself to each other. Now don’t be shy; everyone's new in this class. Maybe you can find a friend in this class to learn better and more quicker. Okay, let’s start with you.” He pointed towards a guy that was to his left, who looked back at him with wide eyes. He looked around and smiled sheepishly yet brightly. “My name’s Haechan, and uh, I’m 22?” He finished it off with bound lips as he refers to the person after him to begin.

And as you all finish introducing yourselves to each other, with a girl named Minji being last, the introductory circle ends, meaning the coach can now start the stretching and warm-up exercises. But he hasn’t.

“Uh, coach, are we gonna—?” Minji stopped halfway as the coach whips his head to look at the gigantic clock on the wall next to the hall’s equally huge entrance. You crane your head curiously towards the direction of his vision, straining both your ears and vision to see what he was looking for, as everyone around you catches on and seems to do the same. It isn’t long after till the squeaking of shoes against the rubber ground echoes throughout; soon enough, the coach screams ‘fourteen minutes!’ as another person steps into the hall, wide eyes darting around everyone as he swallows in an attempt to simmer down his erratic breathing. As the guy's breathing evens out enough for him to probably mutter an apology, your breathing picks up.

“First day and you’ve already fallen for someone? Very on brand for you,”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You scramble to hit Chenle with his golden pokemon card folder he brought to the arcade. Juda calmly stops you using her right hand, as her left hand picks up her drink to take another sip from.

“She didn’t even finish her story, Chenle. Go on,” Juda set her slushy down as her grip loosens from around your wrist, signalling to continue the story.

“Thank you, Juda, for you’re my favourite of them all—”

“Are you gonna finish your story?” Her grip tightened.

“A-as I was saying,”

You like to analyse people to some extent, thinking about how body language is cool and how it can depict everyone's different life, contrasting drastically from one another yet sometimes being so similar even with all of our different circumstances. This is why you tried analysing everyone in your class of busy people attempting to hit the shuttlecock in a streak longer than ten, as your eye flitting around the court and landing on your next target, the new guy, simply because that’s in your nature.

(“In your nature? Or was it just the mysterious guy that came into the class so suddenly, panting and out of bre—“

“Shut up? Anyway,” )

“Ah Jisung, this is the latest you’ve been,” The coach nodded innocently towards the guy, as if he hadn’t scared the piss out of all of you when he shouted.

He’s a bit stiff with his walk, and his shoulders seem to harden like a board when his eyes scan around the class and its participants. With wide eyes, he looks like a lost puppy with the way he looks back at the coach in some sort of silent confirmation of something. It’s probably his first time having a general class with coach Minkyung, you realise as you see Jisung bow sheepishly to his teacher.

“Sorry,” his voice was hushed, rumbling as he talked. His eyes scanned briefly once again across the now sparked class doing forehand and backhand practices that the teacher has instructed them to do. You locked eye contact with him from afar and quickly looked away, ears feeling a little bit hotter than it was a second before.

Soojin leans in towards you and Ryujin a bit and whispers, “Do you think he’s new? Like . . . All of us?”

You and Ryujin glance at each other for a quick second, before you smile profusely as Ryujin places her hands on the pole that holds the badminton net, her racket clenched fist supporting her chin as she ponders. “Not at all.” She says rather flatly, a cheeky smile following up after. Solely looking at him doesn’t give you any insights on his level of badminton playing, which is weird, because till now he could pick up on some people's skills; you’ve so far guessed correctly with a few of the participants (including yourself, you think you’re an average player in this class) so you feel a bit stumped.

He stands stiff as he talks to the coach, keeping his gaze stern on his coach. He seems to be wearing normal trackies and only has a very slim back for his racket.

“He’s obviously a beginner, his bag is so thin compared to Coach and even Haechan, he also doesn’t look like a long-time player” Jaemin pipes in.

“Who are you to say? You said you’ve been playing for how long and you’re still this bad?” Soojin smiles as she dodges Jaemin’s hand by a fraction. But Ryujin isn’t having any of it as she breathes in with her teeth clenched, hissing out a sound of suspicion.

“Coach seems to know him, which makes me think he’s either been here before, or he’s just the coach's nepotism offspring.”

“Okay!” The coach claps his hand, forcing everyone to act like they were practising. “Gather around; we’re gonna do a basic skills test for this lesson, then I’m gonna split you up into groups and we’ll get to work with the people with the same skills. Cool?” He throws two thumbs up as everyone stays silent, with one of the two people nodding. You watch as he sees the coach's enthusiasm die down a little.

“Cool?” The coach had yelled now, startling everyone else in the second round of heart attacks; everyone else yell back this time, the word ‘cool’ echoing around the grand sports court. You notice that everyone’s responded to the coach's request except for Jisung.

“Oh girl . . .” Juda now has her manicured hand placed on your sulked shoulder of realisation.

“I know, I’m so sorry, Juda.” You look into the distance of the arcade, feigning sorrow; or maybe it’s not much of a feign.

“The fuck,” Chenle turns to see both of you huddled in what looks like a cry fest. “Did someone fucking die?”

“Watch your tongue,” An old woman wearing a neon orange vest belonging to the arcade staff points at Chenle, who bows down as he murmurs ‘sorry’, with you two trying your best not to laugh, following and bowing your heads down too when the seething woman’s eyes meet your figures.

“How dare you anger the poor lady, her blood pressure is probably already high enough,” Juda picks at Chenle, who is now quietly trying to slip in the token to play another round.

“I wouldn’t have if you guys didn’t just suddenly go emo for no reason. What the f—” Chenle’s eyes waver back and see the woman’s eyes (Are they naturally red? Or is it the arcade lighting?) glaring back at him once more. “Frick. What the frick happened.”

“Oh Chenle, we must mourn for her. She’s fallen for another mysterious guy who barely has any personality.”

“Oh my god,”

“Oh my fucking god, what—”

“Fuck,” Jisung sighed when he missed the shuttlecock by just a hair's width. Everyone was standing in a line-like formation, at the tip of their toes against the line that made the distinction between the playing court and outside. Jisung and the coach were having a match, the first test that the coach had implemented to determine who goes into what group according to their skills, and when no one volunteered, Jisung silently centred himself on the court as the coach's face broke out into a glow.

Although his face was adorned with wrinkles even when still, and his skin did seem to look just a smidge pruney all the time — the I’m growing old look he had on his face was impossible to miss — the coach’s never looked sharper and younger than he does now, zipping through his side of the court like a bees race. Jisung on the other hand, seems to have a calm demeanour, quietly and tranquilly stepping forward and back, delivering lobs and clears, limbs outstretched to effortlessly hit the shuttlecock back even if it seems that his position doesn’t allow such moves.

In the cold of Autumn, the stiffness of everyone's bodies was just the tiniest bit evident after a round of stretching, but two right in front of you look as if they’re playing in the heat of the summer, arms and legs effortlessly moving around the court. You try not to look too intently into the thin glisten of sweat forming on Jisung's neck.

Soojin raises her hand without taking her eyes off of the two people playing intensively in front of her, as Jaemin reaches in his pockets to place ten thousand won into her open palm, not letting his gaze wander away from the game either. “Thank you for your service.”

“I can’t believe he’s that good, I should’ve known from his cocky demeanour.” Haechan sighs, his fist resting against his cheek, hoisted up by his other hand. Everyone looks in his direction.

“You would think that it takes one to know one,” Minji almost barely whispers as she looks away from him by her side, looking back at the game with everyone else following.

“Ah, fine. You won.” Coach drops his racket down from its first stage position, going towards the net with an open palm. Jisung barely takes a step forward before he’s lifting his hand too, shaking hands over the net as everyone claps behind them.

“Okay then, who’s next?”

You spend half the lesson just like that, with everyone playing against the coach followed by him then instructing everyone to get into the key badminton positions. You suspect that this is the core of learning badminton as the coach guides you from the way you hold your racket to the way your feet are positioned, but all you’re really thinking about right now is how badly you just want to go home.

“Okay!” The coach claps, as people gather around him in a semi-breathless state, just from being told to carry out a few sets of actions that badminton has. You don’t know why badminton necessarily needs ladder crossovers, but you barely get to give out a sigh before your eyes catch on Jisung’s seemingly calm composure. He’s done so much and maybe even a round extra, but he’s barely breaking a sweat.

Why does he look so good? Show off.

“Believe it or not, we’re done already! I now have an understanding of what level each one of you is in and will put you into groups.” You keep trying to wipe at your face to keep the sweat away, but an even coat of sweat is now settled on your hand after wiping it many times, so it only feels like you’re spreading it evenly.

All while mysterious Jisung barely lifts his shoulder to have the cloth of his shirt wipe away the bead at his temple.

How utterly gross of him. You wonder if he’s single.

“So I will see you all next week and give your level, thanks for joining!” And everyone disperses, spreading around the hall to get to their bags and start packing. You are standing above your bag, packing it and taking your bottle out to take a sip when you see Minji and Soojin whisper shouting, which defeats the whole point of whispering in the first place.

“How much do you wanna guess that he eats and sleeps here?” Soojin is practically bouncing in her place, taking multiple obvious glances at Jisung’s figure, who’s seemingly roaming around in his bag instead of packing it like everyone else, his racket placed neatly on top of his bag instead of inside.

“Nothing, because at this point it almost seems like a fact.” And with that, you shoulder your bag and head for the door, too tired to function.

“And you have no muscle aches? Impressive.” Juda pipes, her eyes glued to the road as she drives them back home.

“Oh no, I do. I just plastered a few KT tapes.” You say from your position in the passenger seat, elbow resting against the rolled-down window with your hand against your forehead, getting a nice breather from the wind outside. Chenle who’s sitting in the middle reaches his hand forward and pulls your sleeve up from behind to reveal your arm and shoulder lined up with tapes of blue and green.

“A few huh,” Juda smiles and Chenle retorts, as you tch at them both.

“I didn’t want to risk it, okay?” You say, yanking the cloth back down and slapping at Chenle’s hand, facing forward once again with your hands crossed defensively and gaze set outside again. The car lights up in the yellow of the street lights, as Juda drives through the night.

“So when’s your next class?”

“And group A has . . . Jisung. Just Jisung”

“No, bad dog. Stop taking your anger out on Chenle’s biceps,” Juda attempted half-assedly to swat at your hands while her eyes were still glued to her phone, as you retell what happens with your next class.

“It hurts, Juda. Make her stop!”

You were furious. Group C? You knew you were better than that, having played almost every other sport growing up, even if occasionally, you’d gotta be good at badminton. Why is Jisung the only one in group A? Yes, fine, maybe he plays well, but it also means that you’ve been ranked down a group just because he was too perfect. Why does he attend the class if he’s already so good?

Subconsciously, you try to convince yourself to not take this whole grouping thing quite literally, as the coach had said that they’re not ranked or anything; but how can you not take it personally when the people you thought you were on par with were in group B. It takes all of your willpower for your scowl to not be displayed, but you soon find that you don’t have to try too hard as the coach assigns you all to your positions.

“Lighter on the feet,” Coach ordered, the squeak of shoe soles rubbing against the floor echoing throughout the sports hall. You, Soojin, Jaemin and Minji go through what the coach calls fundamental steps; right foot northeast with a forehand flick, right foot northwest with a backhand flick. It helps with the basics of the game, which everyone forgets, but you don’t think half an hour of the same steps helps with remembering either.

While group B, which consists of Haechan and Ryujin, go through the same phases with some extra steps added to strengthen their posture while playing. It’s not that you think your play better than the people in your group or group B, but mainly your irrational annoyance stems from the fact that you’re position in the class is gonna be recorded into your progress report, and you know for a fact that if Jisung wouldn’t be participating this dead class, you would be in group B. Yes, it’s still the last group out of two, but you can say that you’re merely ranked second. Instead, you’re last out of three.

As the steps turn repetitive, you let your eyes wander around mindlessly, your feet carrying you throughout as your hands attempt to do the actions in a somewhat muscle memory process. Your gaze eventually settles on Jisung, whose back is facing you as he smacks the shuttlecock against the wall, which bounces back only for him to smack at it again, repeating this one-man game he seems to have made up for himself. You glare lasers into his back, thinking about how maybe you’re not into this whole mysterious demeanour as you thought you were, seeing him just making up his own moves as the coach merely bounces back between the two of your groups, only checking in on Jisung after a few rounds of lecturing your moves and correcting your mistakes.

Three consecutive claps echo around the tall indoor court, as everyone drops their rackets at their bags and gather around the coach in a circle, somewhat holding some sort of formation with Ryujin to his right and Jisung to his left, and with you positioned almost opposite of him. “Good job everyone, now it’s time to cool down, exactly how we warmed up,” Clueless, most of you follow the coach’s steps while he urges each person to take turns counting, counting up to eight in a clockwise direction. Your eyes can’t stop fleeting to Jisung, the star of every badminton night, as your petty envy prevents you from minding your own business. Throughout the whole night, you’ve seen him take only warming up and cooling down somewhat seriously, as he crosses his arms and holds up a good posture, compared to the rest of the class who simply just slump over, wanting the session to end and finally catch a break.

One final clap and you’re all free to go. And you don’t waste a second, grabbing all your essentials and bag and quickly darting for the door, ready to go home and wash up and just not support your whole body weight on your feet. As you bid everyone goodbye and bow your head lightly to the coach, you watch as Jisung strides up to the coach in a meek manner, as his eyes fall on your retreating figure just slightly before softly calling out the coach's name.

It’s nine p.m. on the dot when you step out of the court and breathe in the cold air.

Juda’s on the couch when you step into the apartment, toeing off your sports shoes as you rest your badminton bag against the shoe shelf, at hand for your next trip to your class.

With a mouth full of chips, Juda barely takes her eyes off the screen before asking “How was class?”

“Same old,” You shrug.

“Same old? You’ve only been twice. How in tune are you with the coach for it to—” Your groan stops her teasing, as she smirks at your tired form squatting against the floor, hands clutching at the door and your hair in frustration.

“Could you have at least let me get home first before frying my brain?” Your hand falls to your face, and that’s when you feel the residue of your sweat from earlier, having turned into oil. The urge to shower now tenfold, you attempt to raise yourself and pass out in the shower.

“I’m gonna wash up now, and probably go to sleep,” You mutter just loud enough for Juda to hear, to which she hums while you retrieve a towel.

“Oh wait, before you go,” She calls just as you inch towards your room, “Do you know where my umbrella went? I’m going to campus tomorrow and I think it’s gonna rain again. I tried calling you but I don’t think it went through,”

“Oh yeah, It’s by the door.” You recall taking the umbrella to class today, as the forecast has been filled with rain symbols with the Autumn weather. Digging in your bag, you push past your essentials in order to find your phone which Juda’s called. “That’s weird, my phone is not here.”

“Did you take it with you today?” Juda mumbles as she munches on a few more chips, rubbing her fingers against her pants after every serving.

“I’m sure I did,” You ponder out loud, as you remove your hands from your bag in favour of patting at your pants and jacket resting on the clothing hanger, in case you somehow shoved it in your pockets without knowing.

“Did you forget it?” As soon as the words leave your roommate's mouth, you are met with a vivid picture of your phone, abandoned on the bench in the badminton court you left in a hurry. You sigh, placing your towel on the bathroom counter briefly before grabbing your house keys while putting your shoes on.

“I’ll be back Juda,”

“Good luck,” She waves.

You’re beyond tired, and a little frustrated at yourself for being impatient and forgetting your phone. You can’t risk losing such a thing, hence you’re glad that the lights were still on when you arrived at the building, giving a wave to the receptionist.

Stepping onto the court, you immediately zero in on your phone which is perched on the bench, the black shade of the screen a contrast against the silver metal bar. But a squeak of a sole against the floor earns a squeal out of your mid-march, as you clutch your shirt next to your heart and turn towards the perpetrator.

“Oh my god,” Jisung’s gaze is what you’re met with as you let out a sigh of relief, the man in question only turning around as you mutter under your breath.

“Sorry,” That’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all day, and there’s something about the tone of his voice that calms your heart down just a bit.

“What are you still doing here?” Your curiosity gets the best of you, your forgotten phone laying there, continuing to be overlooked as you question the presence of your classmate.

His eyes squint ever so slightly at your question, as his eyes ghost over you, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “I’m practising,”

Practising? After two hours of badminton class, he didn’t seem like he did much then, but he’s still staying back to practice. You hum in slight adulation, rocking back and forth on your feet as he turns back around and runs through steps you’re unfamiliar with. As you inch towards your phone, you think more about his prominent presence in the court; is he too shy in class? Or maybe he gets private classes from the coach?

But as you scan your eyes around the court, you’re met with a near-empty court, as the only thing in sight is his bottle and slim bag. You’re not sure exactly what you’re waiting for as you hold onto your phone, fidgeting on your spot as your eyes follow Jisung’s swift movements. He seems more tired now than he ever was in the two classes you’ve shared with him, as his shoulders ride up more with an attempt of regaining stability with his breaths.

You’re not sure how long you’ve loitered around, but it must be a long amount of time for Jisung to look at you with disdain and shock.

“. . . Why are you still here?” He seems more reserved — something you didn’t know could happen — as he asks you this question, holding his racket subconsciously closer to his body. Your eyes widen at the prospect of being caught, as you shake your hands vehemently, stumbling back a bit.

“Sorry, I wasn’t—” You didn’t know how you were going to explain yourself, but one glance at the door of the court is all you need.

Bowing your head as quickly as you can in a lieu of a goodbye, Jisung could barely apprehend what you did before you’re bolting out of the badminton court.

A week later, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to face Jisung with your awkward encounter, and it is evident that the incident has been plaguing your mind as you stand at the door of the sports centre, both hands gripping the strap do your bag.

“What if he thinks I’m a weirdo for just standing there and stalking him?” Your wandering mind does nothing to help ease the situation, as more arbitrary scenarios flow after one another. Maybe he told the coach how much of a creep you are and now when you step in, you’ll be banned from class.

“Oh dear god,” You let your head fall forwards, trying to tip over the thought out of your head. Closing your eyes, you try to think of the things you can do once the class is over when a tap on your shoulder brings you out of your reverie. You turn to look behind your shoulder, fearing that it's someone robbing you or worse— Jisung; only to see coach Son, smiling at you with a hint of worry laced on his forehead.

Your shoulders sag with relief. “Hi coach,” you wince internally at your response, voice coming out high-pitched as you clench your grip on your bag.

“Let's go in and start some warm-ups, yeah?” And as you follow the coach to the class, you make sure to subtly hide behind him in case you catch s glimpse of Jisung anywhere, not wanting to run into him. As you quietly peek your head over his right shoulder once and his left shoulder next, you feel like a secret agent sneaking up on your target. A clearing of someone's throat snaps you out of your act, as your shoulders bunch up and in shock and you quickly turn, only to be met with the feared man of the night.

It seems like he’s been trying to go up to the coach and maybe say hi, but your lurking figure both stopped and perplexed him, not knowing why you were just peeking your head around like a mole rat.

“Sorry,” You mumble slightly, eyes wide as you back away towards the closest wall, wanting to blend into it and live with the bricks. Maybe you’ll face less embarrassment that way but knowing you, anything is possible.

“It’s okay,” His voice is as unassuming as always, eyes looking anywhere but you now that he’s caught your attention. You think his shyness is quite cute, but not for long as you think back to being scared of him from last week to being jealous of him, also from last week. That’s a lot of emotion for you to process.

He pulls up his hands, now shaped into a fist and looks past you, but you know he’s talking to you when he mutters, “Fighting,” before fully facing away and walking past you as if the mortification of his action has caught up to him. You barely contain your shocked expression behind your hand.

“Good job today guys, now we all have a basic grasp of the initial steps and our skills when it comes to badminton.” You brace your hands on your knees, just having done a set of wall squats as a way to build stamina, or so you’ve been told. You thought that maybe a month into these classes and you would’ve had some sort of energy stashed away in you when attending class, but it’s week five and you’re fighting for your life three seconds into a plank.

“Now I don’t wanna treat this class academically, but for those of you who truly care, there will be an assessment in the midst of this course to reevaluate your standing and see if you can advance from your group! But other than that, remember that this class can be solely for fun reasons too . . .” The rest of coach's words were white noise to your ears. Reevaluation? Does that mean that you can advance? That you’ll have a shot?

“Are you okay?” Soojin leans in toward you, whispering while pointing to what you assume would be the shock on your face. You turn to her, drawing a thumbs up to reassure her. And before you know it class is done and you’re pulled to do a series of cool-down moves. You eagerly follow through, now somehow charged with motivation to stay back and go over your moves a few times. You figure that the least you can do to move up a rank is to spend an extra hour going over your moves, even when you sometimes think about the significance of them.

You tread up to the coach and ask in your kindest voice if it was possible for you to stay back. “Of course, are you gonna go through the steps again?” He questions as he shifts his bag from one hand to another. You give a nod and wave goodbye, watching as everyone litters out of the court.

Well, almost everyone.

You can feel, more than anything, Jisung’s gaze piercing your figure through the hood of his jumper, while you give your best attempt at stretching. You’re not sure really what stretches best help with reducing the ache in your muscles the day after, but you figure the endeavour of reaching your toes should do.

Even after a few minutes of trying to appear mellow, Jisung’s presence alone makes you feel on edge as if you’ve stolen his territory. But you figure that nothing will change and that all you can really do right now is, well, practice.

The squeak of your shoes echoes every now and then, followed by a whip sound of the racket you’re flinging in the air. If you do this quickly enough, surely your skills will improve, right? From what your coach Son demonstrated earlier, you realised that as he would start off the steps slowly for your group to get a hang of, he was able to transition the speed to his liking, doing each step quickly and efficiently.

“Okay, should be easy,” You’re careful not to speak too loud in the almost quiet hall, giving yourself words of encouragement. Hand braced in the first position, then in the second, then a slight step back, and then your hand straight and quickly bend.

You finish the routine with its final step of hitting the imaginary shuttle as fast and as straight as your hand can go with such speed. With one round done, you brace yourself in the initial position to do it again. One, two, three and four.

You only get to pump out four, maybe five rounds of this pattern before a clearing of someone's throat scares the daylights out of you. With a barely contained shout, you’d forgotten — however briefly — that you weren’t alone. You’re looking at Jisung, who seems shocked at accidentally shaking you up so much, before he says something to you.

“What?” Even with the stillness of the court, the man’s words were barely comprehensible, as yours echoed slightly throughout the court.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Oh, so the first comment he ever mutters to you are words of criticism. You furrow your brows, head tilting slightly out of habit as you encourage him to go on.

“When you’re recoiling from hitting the shuttle, your racket still faces forward instead of down,” He explains, but none of it makes sense to you and it must be evident in your face, with Jisung looking slightly frustrated that the words did not register in your head.

“If you keep your racket facing forward, the ball isn’t going to go down but head straight, which allows your opponent to retaliate better.” He continues, and you somewhat understand where he’s getting at, but he’s not really helping you at all. All he did was point out your mistake, which makes you feel that he’s just trying to show off his knowledge.

“Well, what should I do then?” You can’t help but seem a bit agitated, as you slump your shoulders and let the racket settle by your ankles, your hold on the handle tightening ever so slightly.

“Hit it face down,” He raises his arm and demonstrated the step to you, causing the head of his hoodie to fall, shining the light of the court on his face. You’re briefly stuck looking at his face instead of his step, but were reeled back in when he makes eye contact. You clear your throat as he goes through the step again, which you think were exactly the steps you were doing a second ago.

“But, how was I any different?” You say as you mimic his steps, bracing yourself in the positions without much thinking, and hitting the imaginary shuttle right as when he does.

“No- see, you did it again,” He steps a bit closer as he gestures to the racket in your hand. “You’re hitting it straight on. You’re supposed to go down.” You sigh as he says this, feeling a bit irked that a mere student is trying to tell you what to do. He is in the top rank, so maybe he has a point.

Attempting to set your implicit annoyance aside, you intently look at his hand and the way he moves his wrist at the end of the step, trying your best to imprint this into your head. He looks a bit flustered with how much your gaze is focused on him, but still goes on two more times before nodding his head at you, encouraging you to try once more.

You look at the position of your hand this time instead of him, going through the initial steps and tweaking your wrist to face more downwards this time than your last few attempts, before your eyes quickly flit towards Jisung, looking for some sort of confirmation with your try. The subdued purse of his lips assures your suspicion, which is that you’re doing it right this time round.

“Good, did you kinda find out what you were doing wrong?” The words come out on reflex, and you don’t think twice this time about him being in the same class as you and yet trying to coach your steps, as you ponder on his question.

“I mean, I found out I was doing something wrong when you pointed it out, but I’m not quite sure what you meant when you said I was hitting it straight on.”

“Wow, you were really into him weren’t you?”

“Shut up Chenle, I was into the badminton technicality.”

Jisung steps forward a little bit and is about to say something before he hesitates. You look at him sceptically, waiting to see what he was gonna say before he shakes his head and seemingly snaps himself out of it. “Can you go back to the third position?” He asks of you, which you raise your hand and assume the position. Your racket and arm are raised pointed straight to the ceiling, while he positions his fisted hand in front of you. Your questioning look doesn’t go unnoticed, as a slight smile appears on Jisungs face before he nods at you, saying, “Okay, now gently go down like you would and stop at my hand.”

You do as you’re told, with Jisung’s eyes settled on your concentrated face following his orders, as the face of your racket meets his fist, the white of his knuckles colouring for a bit.

“See, you’re hitting the front of my knuckles, but that will send the shuttle forward.” He demonstrates by pulling his fist back, “That will give the other player a better opportunity of retaliating.” He then readjusts your racket by the throat, having the net hit the top of his fist. “This gives you a better chance.”

“But like, how am I giving them a better shot?”

You’re not sure what was funny or amusing about your question, but it seems that there must be something there for Jisung to sport a cute small smile, as he picks his racket back up and moves to one of the set-up nets, and funnily enough, you find yourself following him subconsciously. He picks up a shuttlecock on his way to the net and positions himself, as you stand at his side.

“See, let’s say the shuttle is coming at you this way,” He holds the shuttle with one hand as if the opposing player had shot it at him over the net. “If I hit it the way you had— actually, why don’t you try receiving the ball.” And so you shuffle over, standing opposite of his ready stance with your arms crossed, intrigued.

“I’ll throw the shuttle back to you and try seeing if you can hit it back.” You realise that this is the most you’ve heard him speak in the past five weeks that you’ve attended the class together. You bring your hand up and stand in the ready position you remember coach telling you about when initiating a game, and Jisung takes that as a sign that you’re ready and hits the shuttle at a moderate speed. You hit the ball back with ease, as it goes over back to Jisung’s side, who catches it with his other hand. You let out a long ‘ahh’ sound of understanding, hand clutched at your side.

“You’re right, that was hell easy,” You brood aloud, but not before asking one of your other endless questions. “But then, how would the other way be any different?”

From the looks of it, Jisung seems over the moon that you asked such a question, holding back a smile by biting on his lips lightly and quipping his head to the side. He holds up the shuttle and looks at you, gauging to see if you’re ready to receive the ball once again. As you regain your ready position, you see the ball suspended in the air briefly before Jisung hits it at the ‘better’ angle, which is seemingly from the head of it, but before you can process anything else a zip sounds past you and the ball has landed behind you.

Your gasp resonates through the hall as you look behind you to where the shuttle has landed, with a hand coming to your mouth as you look at Jisung. The latter contains his smug smile behind his own hand, as you point at the ball and look back and forth. “What did you just do?”

“Ah, that’s a technique that's called smash.” You falter slightly.

“That’s a weird fucking name I’m not gonna lie,” You glance at the ball once more with a look of disgust, before shaking yourself out of it. “Oh my god, that was so cool.”

You didn’t think that you would be getting a one-on-one lesson when you decided to stay behind today, but you’re quite surprised with how he was able to spot such a little detail so quickly. And that gives you an idea.

“Jisung,” You call his name for the first time since you met him five weeks ago, which surprises the said man, as you see his eyes startle and a few strands of his hair jerk. “Do you stay after class every week?”

He’s a bit quiet for some time, processing your question thoroughly. He nods his head briefly, but not before a bit of hesitation.

“Is it . . . Can you help me improve?” You’re a bit shy now that you voice your question out loud, but you’re determined to move up at least one rank and land second place; or even just have a good academic score, even in badminton.

Seeing the blank face that Jisung is now sporting, you think about the unfair offer you’ve just made to him. Why would he spend his extra time after class to teach you, his potential competitor, without getting anything out of it? You’re not sure what you can offer him, maybe some sort of payment? But before you can ponder even more, you catch a slight nod of his head from the corner of your eye.

“Is that . . . a yes?” You lock eye contact, as he nods his head once more but with more vigour and confirmation.

“Why?” It’s your turn to look at him with confusion.

“Are you asking me?” He points to himself, as he slightly tilts his head as if he was going to look as if you were talking to someone else. You shake your head quickly once he asks the question, raising even more questions.

“Actually, no. I take back what I said. You said yes, right? You can’t change your mind. Or, I mean you can but like I would be pretty bummed about it because you already said yes but I’d respect your choice.” You take a deep breath in once you finish, looking at him and clasping your hands together a bit too harshly.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll help you with what you need.” Relief washes over you and you can’t help but smile in thanks.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing too.” Jisung hums for you to continue, as he goes towards his bag and retrieves his bottle to take a sip.

“Can you teach me how to smash?” And maybe you should’ve waited for him to be done with that bottle first.

You think you’re quite good at being subtle and on the low, no matter how much Juda and Chenle counter that argument. You can be sneaky if you put your mind to it, and it's been proven many times in high school when you would sneak your favourite snack during the middle of the class without your strict teacher finding out.

So you’re not sure where you went wrong when you held out a snack bar in Jisungs direction, only for the whole court to look at you weirdly. You merely strutted up to him with maximum placidity and poked out the bar from your hand into his torso, looking away and hoping he would get the memo and take from you as with a mutter of something that sounds really close to the word ‘thanks’.

But it’s been a solid fifteen seconds and not only is the bar still in your hand, but everyone in the class has slowed down their activities in favour of looking at you two. Even coach’s staring as if he’s trying to solve a very complex puzzle.

“Is this . . . for me?” Jisung’s voice comes out as a rumble, not knowing if he should whisper or talk normally, sounding out something in between instead.

Of course this is for you, idiot. Why am I holding it in your direction??

You ignore his question and shake the bar in your hand with a bit more intensity, hoping that he would finally get the memo. It isn’t until ten more seconds pass that you lose all hope and turn to him, grabbing his hand and placing your gratitude in his open palm, closing his fist around the energy snack.

You stomp your way to start your warm-ups before Jisung could say anything.

“When you aim your hand, you’re not really looking at the shuttle,” Jisung starts after a few rounds of one-on-one games you’ve started after class. “Your eyes are just hovering around it for a few seconds before you look around and put yourself in position. You’re supposed to go in position without looking, it should be intuitive.” You huff at his explanation, dropping your hands by your sides.

“How do I ‘look’ at it more, then?” You’re grateful that Jisung is helping you, but it’s just the tiniest bit unnerving for him to recognise your every move and be able to point out your mishaps. He moves back from the net, creating a decent amount of space in his playing circle. He starts throwing the shuttle up with his badminton racket, the distance from the shuttle and its net growing with each hit.

“Practising this move helps,” He says as he works through what you remember the coach demonstrating the first few classes. As the shuttlecock goes higher and higher with each impact, your eyes catch on the silver of skin poking out as Jisung lifts his hand to meet the shuttle, his shirt rising for a few seconds every time.

“I think it would be better if you looked at the shuttle?” His words catch you off guard, as you look up and meet his gaze already settled on your, eyes gleaming as he pokes at his cheek with his tongue.

“Shut up,” You look away, flustered that you got caught, before attempting the moves, refusing to look back at him.

The condensation of the electrolyte drink is addled with the dampness of your hand, as you make your way to class the week after. You see Ryujin talking to the coach as you enter, and Jisung at his bag, seeming to ruffle through it in order to retrieve something. You strut your way up quietly, not wanting to attract any awkward attention by giving gratitude in the form of a drink to your unofficial instructor. As you open your mouth to call Jisungs name, the tall man turns around and gives you the faintest hint of a smile, before his eyes land on your hand.

“Hi, here.” You spout, as you extend your hand straight towards him, some of the condensation dropping on the floor and finding solace in the gaps of your fingers. His hands feel dry and warm as it brushes against yours, retrieving the drink from your grasp.

“You didn’t have to. Thank you; for last time too,” Your cheeks heat up at his words as you avert your gaze away, opting to look at the playing net instead. “Don’t mention it,” Your damp hand wrings against the dry one behind your back, as you slowly let your gaze wander back to Jisung, who’s now looking at the blue bottle in his hand.

“Did you know,” He twists the drink in his hand and looks at what you think is the nutrition information. “Electrolyte doesn’t actually help when you exercise.” Your expression sullens as he continues to look at the drink you gave him. “Your body loses more water than electrolytes when you exercise, and so there is no use consuming more electrolytes. Water helps way more in comparison,” The scowl on your face makes Jisung stop in his tracks as he looks up after finishing his bite-sized lecture.

“Well, if you’re so ungrateful—” You reach your hand out to snatch the bottle from him but are stopped short as his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. “No!” He exclaims and a chuckle slips past as your struggle to get the drink, reaching out your other hand before he captures that too, now both of your wrists trapped in his hand. Your eyes widen, with your wrist bound and fighting up a struggle, all impaired with Jisung’s hand wrapped. Before your mind can wander to what other scenarios can result in him bounding up your hands, he continues; “I’m very grateful. You don’t have to give me these things just because I give you a few tips after class.”

You pause your struggle, letting your hands be weighed down. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been helping you at all. Sometimes I even set you back, so it’s the least I can do.” You say truthfully. You do sometimes feel like a burden when Jisung gives you a tip and you don’t adapt immediately, sometimes it takes you maybe two after-class lessons until you can successfully cast back the shuttle over the net with a short distance. The only way you could think about paying him back was through these pick-me-up snacks.

“Okay, how about this,” You miss the warmth and pressure of his hand against your wrist as soon as he lets go to put the drink down behind him and straightens back up, looking away as he slowly grows flustered with what he’s about to say next. “Treat me to ice cream maybe?”

You smile at his antics, happy to have been told how you could repay him. “Deal,” He visibly deflates with relief as you zealously agree, putting your bag down next to his as you both start to unpack.

You shuffle to the bathroom as soon as practice is over, giving Jisung a quick point towards the direction you’re going to ease his worries about you running away. Once inside, you’re met with the cool breeze and a mirror that reflects your spent figure. Oh god, how were you gonna go out like this? Is this what you looked like this entire time? Shuffling to the sink, you shoulder your bag back as you lean over the sink and lightly dab at your face with some water, before cleaning yourself up and dabbing the paper towel against your face.

You don’t know why you were so nervous to do this; it’s truly just some ice cream with your temporary and unofficial coach. But you truly wanted him to see your gratitude, and soon enough you’re thinking if ice cream isn’t enough, and budgeting how you can come up with enough money for an all-you-can-eat buffet at this time of the night. But before you could even add up the numbers on your fingers - it was a two in one hand and three in another, not quite sure what they meant - the sound of the door opening echoes in the bathroom, jumping you out of your reverie.

Turning around, you just catch Minji stepping in, looking taken aback at your shocked expression, as if you weren’t expecting anyone to enter this public bathroom. “You okay?” She calls after you, and you can only hope that the smile on your face is convincing enough.

“Yup! Just . . . tired,” You cringe a bit at the overused excuse, but your shoulders slump when she just smiles back at you.

“It’s okay, maybe your date with Jisung would cheer you up?” You feel something lodge in your throat, coughing out in surprise.

“No!” You retort, hands coming out from behind you as if to stop all ideas from forming. “We’re- It’s not like that. He’s just-” Minji looks at you with amusement, as she shifts her weight and crosses her arms, urging you to continue. The mind blank you’re sporting is not at all helping with a way to express what you truly are doing with Jisung, and so you try: “I just owe him something for smashing his racket.” And that was the best you could do.

Minji’s smile falls, as her arms drop at her sides. “You . . . smashed his racket?”

You don’t know why her voice was laced with such concern, but you figure that you have to finish what you started. “Yeah, to pieces actually. Sometimes the adrenaline truly gets to you, right?” You chuckle a bit, trying to find a gap in the conversation where you can squeeze back out of the bathroom.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” You clench the strap of your bag and exit the bathroom, ready to dart out of the place. As you turn a sharp right, you are immediately met with a sheet of white, which suspiciously looks like the colour of the shirt Jisung was wearing today. Hands are placed at your shoulder and you’re quickly set back half a step from the wall, or at least enough to recognise that it wasn’t a wall, but rather Jisung’s tall figure.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes flicking from his own to the arms stretching to your shoulders, catching a few veins adorning his forearm. A clear of his throat has you looking entirely away, as you grab at his wrist and start tugging towards the exit.

The white lights of the LED sign of the ice cream place illuminate most of the dark street, with most businesses having closed earlier in the day save for a few convenience stores littered with tired college students like yourselves. You eye the shop and its extravagant decor, sceptical about being brought to such a high-end ice cream shop.

“You know, when you said ice cream, I thought you had wanted me to buy you some popsicles from some convenience store. Not someplace about exorbitant ice cream with fifty years of craft in making,” You nudge your elbow a bit to Jisung’s side, to which he responds by twisting his head in your direction.

He splutters, “Oh, I’m so sorry I forgot that, you know you were gonna pay,” You notice his hands move as he speaks, something you’ve picked up from when you would talk to him or notice him talking to coach; it’s as if his words are spelt with his hands first and then brought out through his lips, now adorning a pout as he tries explaining himself.

“. . . I thought we were just, going out.” Your eyebrows raise a bit in surprise at his words. Going out? As in, going out on a date?

You wonder if your thought bubble is something he can see, as he quickly puts out his hands again, shaking them vehemently. “Not on a date! It’s just, I didn’t know what-”

“Jisung, it’s okay. I was just messing with you,” You decide to put him out of his misery, reassuring him before continuing, “I’ve never been here but I’ve been meaning to try it out, so I’m glad you suggested this place. Let me treat you to something good,” And without thinking, you link your arm through his and push through the door, the cool of the interior washing over both of you. The shop was mostly white, with white tiles placed as half-walls as well as the flooring, the only hint of colour being the green of a few plants and of course the various ice creams. The employee, who seems to be the only person in the shop, straightens up ever so slightly at the sight of the two of you entering, before slumping back down when you head towards the self-serve ice cream booths. Picking up two cups, you hand one to Jisung who’s at your right, before you pick up the scooper from a mini bucket of water, waving it around your choices.

“Tell me which flavour you want me to pick out for you,” You eye the various flavours of ice creams, seeing if you can find your favourite. You look at Jisung to see if he’s doing the same, only to see his eye zeroed in on one bucket which is contrastingly fuller than the different flavours around it.

“Mint chocolate ice cream?” Your question has JIsung nodding his head as he looks at you sheepishly. “I can’t believe you would choose the most controversial ice cream. You’re so original.” You tease, to which Jisung nudges you in retaliation.

“It’s a good flavour, if people stop comparing the mint and the chocolate and instead choose to see how much they complement each other, we would be one step closer to world peace.”

“That’s a bold claim, what’s your source?” Jisung grabs the scoop out of your hands with mock aggressiveness, opting to scoop his serving of the mint chocolate ice cream. “Your references? Where is your citation—” He cuts you off by placing his hand on your mouth after taking a scoop of his ice cream, as his chest meets your arm.

He shushes you, “Just get your ice cream, yeah? I’ll go get my toppings,” He nods and lets go of your mouth, missing the way your cheeks heat up from his proximity and touch on your face. You bring the back of your hand to your face, prying the heat to go away as you shake your head and pick the scooper back up, reaching for your favourite flavour of ice cream.

Meeting Jisung at the counter, you place your cup of ice cream next to his on the weigh and fish through your bag as you wait for the person behind the counter to calculate your total. However, as soon as you probed your wallet out of your bag, the sound of a completed transaction peals out, making you turn your head up just to see Jisung putting his wallet back into his sweatpants.

“It was supposed to be my treat,” You insist, looking towards Jisung’s direction to generate some sort of guilt for his action. Instead, the man avoids your gaze, picks up two spoons, and places them in your cups, grabbing yours when he spots you not budging from the corner of his eye and turning to head for the door. You grab at his sleeve to force out his reasoning but are slowly pulled with him as he heads out, quickly turning around and bidding goodbye to the staff before he opens the door.

“Well, maybe you can pay next time,” At the mention of another time of you and Jisung hanging out, your initial sorrow washes over by a wave of giddiness.

“Then give me your number,” You propose, fishing your phone out. “So I can see when you’re next free and make it up to you,” With wide eyes, Jisung’s hands hesitate as they reach out for your phone; before either of you can second-guess yourselves, he takes the phone and smiles shyly, typing in his details. Handing the phone back to you, you take a look at his contact before pocketing your phone as Jisung starts to speak.

You scoop a spoon of your ice cream into your mouth to hide your smile, but from a light chuckle that emits from your left side, you don’t think your efforts amounted to much.

You stretch your arm to reach the end of your leg, warming up your body before the mass class warmup, more so to have something to do instead of staring at Jisung who’s also here early and is also doing his own unique sets of warm-ups.

Nothing about badminton is sexy; there’s nothing sexy about moving your wrist just in time to deliver some sort of groundbreaking delivery with the shuttlecock. Even the word shuttlecock grosses you out, as you suppress the urge to shiver at this very moment.

So you’re not sure why the act of playing badminton with the wall is such an attractive sight to you; as Jisung grunts every now and then, seemingly surprised and unprepared by his own backhand delivery against the wall, which makes him take quick steps back and forth and side to side to meet each hit. His quick movements allow for his loose clothing today to move around freely, exposing toned skin every now and then. It takes a lot of your willpower to have you not to drool right then and there, as if you were back in high school once more.

One hit, in particular, bounced off high and far from the wall, the sound of the shuttlecock smacking against the wall echoing louder as it heads for Jisung’s left side, a direction that you’re situated in although with a safe amount of distance. The tall player retaliates by turning his body a whole hundred-and-eighty degree, facing away from the wall and essentially towards you as he tries to continue his streak of hits. Briefly, you see his eyes look at you and back at the shuttles descend, but his focus on the said thing falters when he looks at you again, realising that you’ve been watching him play.

The shame of being caught should’ve arrived by now, as your shoulders stiffen with being onslaught by Jisung’s intense gaze. But before the chagrin could fully settle in, Jisung has completely passed the point of positioning his racket, causing the shuttle to fall and bounce off of his head and onto his feet. Gently clasping your hand at your mouth, you stop your giggles at the warning glare that Jisung sends to you; although his flushed cheeks aren’t making it any better.

“Say something and see what happens,” He points at you with the tip of his racket. You remove your hand and open your mouth, curious to see where this goes.

“Are you really gonna say something?” He steps closer to your figure, which is now sitting cross-legged on the ground with both hands placed on top of one another in front of you. He drops his racket on the ground, as if it doesn’t cost a limb, and instead places his hands right above his knees, looming over your figure. You can’t help it this time when your gaze follows towards the gap in the collar of his shirt, showing the sharp cut of his collarbone peeking through. It’s when your gaze is caught on his chain necklace dangling from his neck that the sound of a basketball bouncing echoes closer, as both of you look towards the direction it’s coming from. Not long after, a boy no older than ten shuffles in with his shoes squeaking against the floor, looking shocked at the fact that the two of you are here.

The ball lightly hits Jisung’s calf, who simply picks it up and passes it back to the boy who’s seemingly frozen in place. As soon as the ball arrives at his own feet, he quickly picks it up and dashes out of the place.

“Do you wanna bet to see who can reach past their toes?” Your question snaps Jisung out of his thought. The boy chuckles and sits down to your right, stretching out his legs and shaking them out as a form of warm-up.

“You’re so on,”

Your hands are clasped behind your back as you strut up to Jisung, who’s at his bag, taking out his needed items. With a tap on his shoulder, he turns to face you, giving you a smile as a greeting before scanning you.

“What are you doing this time?” You gasp in mock offence.

“This time? I haven’t even done anything yet?”

“But you’re going to,” He points his fingers at your hidden hands. “You’re either gonna scare me or pull the lamest prank ever known to date.” Your smile drops and a scowl replaces it instead.

When Jisung fully turns to face you, you smile once more and lean your shoulders in. “I actually brought you something to thank you. Again.” You shift the item from your left to your right hand, feeling nervous and embarrassed for saying it all out loud. “Because of you, I can hit a backhand serve and not smack myself.” The boy stands taller with your gratitude, a blush sporting on his face as his eyes look anywhere but at you. You must look like high schoolers confessing to one another with the way you’re both flustered and shy, which isn’t a thought you’re fully opposed to.

He nods his head, still avoiding looking directly at you, as he reaches his hands out, ready to receive what you’ve brought for him. You giggle slightly as he shuts his eyes and shakes his hands in anticipation, “Since you said electrolyte drinks don’t really help, and you like your proteins after class, I thought of a better third option and brought you,” You reach your hands out and place the gift on his palms, urging him to open his eyes.

Cold and dripping with condensation, the plastic water bottle perched on his hands seem small as his hands close around them to keep from falling. His eyes fall as he looks dimly at the bottle in his hands, and you look away briefly to keep from laughing straight in his face.

“Now I know what that kid felt like when he got gifted an avocado for Christmas.”

“Wait,” Chenle plops down next to Juda as he says this, but is quickly shoved to the other end of the couch with a complaint ‘It’s too hot for you to stick your gross body next to me’.

“What’s his deal then?”

“What?” You turn to look at Juda first as if to check that you’re the only one confused. The furrow of the girls’ eyebrows proves the fact that you aren’t alone, as you both look at Chenle with visible empty thought bubbles surrounding you.

“Well, he’s a badminton prodigy according to you. Seems to have surprased all the basics and is just a step away from being a professional.” The initial shove and retort from Juda barely set him off, as he goes back to his original position and maybe squeezes himself even more to her side and pulls a spoon out, digging into her tub of ice cream.

“Why is he still coming to class if he’s qualified enough to teach you?” Unfortunately, for once Chenle does have a point. You’ve thought about this a few times at the beginning of the semester when you were a little more than irritated by the fact that he joined the class and made you rank down a notch; ever since he agreed to lend you a hand, you’re sometimes even happy when you see him come in.

“He has a point sadly,” Juda waves her spoon towards Chenle’s direction. “If he’s as good as you say he is, why bother coming to class?”

“Maybe you should ask him that on your next date,” The boy wiggles his eyebrows at you, squealing out a laugh when you pull your fist back in a threatening manner.

“Maybe I will,” you blurt out, attempting an aggressive tone. Before you could let anyone, even yourself, comprehend what you said, you pressed play on the tv and snuggled up to Juda’s arm on her right, with Chenle leaching off of her to her left.

“The things I put up with,” She huffs as she stabs her spoon into her ice cream tub, feeding you diligently.

[WEDNESDAY; 10:37 PM]

you: you

jwisung: ?

jwisung: what happened to hello

jwisung: ‘how was your day’

jwisung: wheres ur decorum

you: shut up you dont even know what that means

jwisung: :(

you: >.<

you: are you free this saturday at 9

jwisung: you mean

jwisung: the saturday 9pm where we just finish our badminton class?

jwisung: idk i gotta check my schedule to see if i have a badminton class around that time

jwisung: omg wait are you gonna spoil me

you: 😐

you: yes but not anymore

you: bye

jwisung: WAIR

jwisung: pleahse im soreu

you: not forgiven <3

you: i know this place that actually has good mint choc ice cream

you: not too minty not too chocolatey

jwisung: you rmbrd that i like mintchoc?

you: dont do this to me

jwisung: okay i wont 😁

you: good boy

jwisung: …

you: ?

you: oh!

jwisung: no

you: ill remember this too 😋

Your bag is bigger this time when you go to class, having packed an extra set of clothes and a towel to have a quick rinse after class before your not-date with Jisung. Arriving just in time for the warm-up session, you’re met with gloomy faces left and right. Plopping your bag down next to Soojin’s, you whisper when you ask, “Why does everyone look like they’ve been kicked?”

She looks up to you with a pout adorning her features. “Coach declared today a ‘cardio’ day. Something about wanting to boost our stamina or whatever the fuck.” She sighs as she shoves her stuff back into her bag, sadly shuffling across the court to do her designated warmups. You grimace as you follow, hoping your travel-size soap is enough.

Turns out Coach’s definition of cardio was way more intense than what you remember your gym friends raving about, as you put your hands on your knees to keep yourself from collapsing. A whistle from the coach signals a shift in your rep, making you change stations and do the next cycle of workout.

“Coach, how much longer are we gonna do this—”

“Until I start sweating, Jaemin. Now keep up!” Coach demands, which is absurd, because he isn’t doing anything but watching you do push-up planks and try not to collapse.

“Okay, stop,” He blows the whistle once more and you fall to your hands and knees, with everyone else modelling a variation of your position. Haechan’s high-pitched groan startles you, but not as much as the coach’s yelling that follows after.

“Don’t sit down guys! Sitting down after exercise is terrible for your stamina,”

“This sounds like some facebook myth my mom would tell me,” Ryujin pants as she shoves her fringe out of her face.

Coach smiles as he claps this time around. “You guys were great today, well done! As a gift, you can only do the stretching cool-down activities and I’ll finish class earlier today,” At that, the class erupts in out-of-breath cheers and barely lasting claps.

You look to find Jisung, just to see how he’s holding up after this exercise round from hell, and you find yourself more than relieved to see him affected for once. Halfway through class, he’s opted to take off his hoodie, which left him in a white shirt and navy sweatpants, with sleeves bunched up to show his biceps and their carvings. The sight of him adorned with sweat and panting sends a twist to your stomach, and you’re quickly reminded that you’re supposed to go out with him after this.

Shuffling to your bag as quickly as you can with the ache pulsing through your legs, you’re about to head for the courts' public showers when you’re met with Jisung’s figure.

“You can’t leave that easily, I have to try that ice cream,” He murmurs with a crooked smile. You smack at his shoulder.

“I wasn’t gonna leave, I wanted to take a quick rinse before we go out. That cardio really did a number on me,” Jisung falls a bit quiet at your words, as you visibly see him suddenly deep in thought. Before you get to question it, he beats you to it by straightening up and looking directly at you with an idea in mind.

“Why don’t you come to mine?” You blanch at his words but aren’t allowed to react more than that as he continues. “I live really close, and you can just use the shower before heading out. You have your stuff with you and I need a rinse too.” He points at your bag behind you, making you flush and subconsciously move to cover up your efforts. His idea doesn’t seem too bad, and you think this could be another excuse for you to make up to him. Let’s go out one more time because I used up all your hot water. Couldn’t think of a better idea.

With a nod and a smile, you’re quickly guided out of the building shoulder to shoulder.

Jisung’s apartment really wasn’t far at all, as you arrive at the complex within a five-minute walk from the sports grounds. Living in a two-bedroom apartment with his roommate, who Jisungs said to have gone home this winter season, the place looks relatively clean with the effort of one person living in the area. He directs you to his room, where you place your bags and pick up your clothes before he points towards the bathroom.

“You can use my shampoo and soap, they’re both in some type of white bottle. Don’t use the blue ones because they’re my roommates’ and he has a sixth sense when it comes to these things,” You salute him and shuffle to the bathroom, trying your best to be as quick as possible to not leave him waiting and to not actually use up all his hot water. The bathroom was just slightly messy, with towels stacked on one another in a haphazard manner and shaving bottle caps abandoned and soap remnants staining the sink, you feel warm with the idea of getting to see this side of Jisung. A university student trying his best, not some badminton prodigy.

Rinsing your body one last time, you close the water tap and open the glass door of the shower, reaching out your hand blindly to retrieve your towel. After a few seconds of mindlessly flinging your arm and only coming back with a bang of your knuckle against the metal towel holder, you don’t really recall pulling out the towel from your bag, much less hanging it anywhere near the bathroom.

“Oh my god, why today?” The cold of the world outside the shower cubicle washes shivers over you as you open the door wide enough to fit your head around, scanning to see if there’s any alternative you can use instead. All you’re met with is bundles of toilet paper rolls stacked on top of one another and used toilet paper rolls dumped into a basket haphazardly. Your panic settles a bit quicker as your mind blanks from solutions, but not before a knock is heard through the door with your name being called.

“Yes?” You hide the waver in your voice as best as you can, closing the glass door just a bit more.

“Is everything okay?” Jisung’s voice rumbles through the door. Your hand flies to your body, suddenly feeling exposed with the reminder of Jisung’s presence. Slipping back into the shower, you raise your voice as much as you can to be heard through the door; “Yup! Everything’s fine. Just . . .” It’s just I’m dripping and naked in your house and the only remedy is a towel, which I don’t have.

“I noticed you forgot your towel,” The muffle of his voice cuts you out of your trance, “I can give it to you— I mean of course I won’t look! I can just— maybe I’ll stick my hand in?” You laugh slightly at the fact that he’s just as flustered as you, before replying with an agreement.

As he opens the door with the smallest gap to fit the towel and then his wrist, the cold air of the outside reminds you again of your stark nakedness, one hand going across your chest as you reach your other to grab at the towel. With a skim of your wet fingers against his warm and dry ones, you retrieve your towel with a shy thanks, as Jisung quickly goes to close the door.

While getting ready as quickly as you could in the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts of how you were supposed to face Jisung after that whole incident. You couldn’t think if it was better to joke about it and get it over with or forget about it and have to come back one day for some form of closure. You hoped there was no need for closure.

But before your overthinking could get to you, Jisung regarded you like he would any other day when you stepped out of his bathroom — with a shy look and awkward hands — and you immediately relax, shoulders slumping as you go up to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Jisung’s eyes flit towards it, but not for long before he opens the door and lets you lead the way.

The trip to the ice cream store was a short one, requiring only a train ride to the han rivers’ skirts where the shop is situated. The store itself was busy with people sitting all around snacking on its offerings, but once you get your respective ice creams and head out back towards the river, it’s a bit quieter; a breeze slips past you as you wrap an arm around yourself. With spring in the air, the trees’ full bloom flowers scatter around the pavement and are imprinted by the soles of your hoses as you walk by.

Finding a bench by the tree, the two of settle down on it, as you turn and face Jisung in anticipation of his first try.

“It’s really good, trust me. And it’s like a bit thicker with its mint rather than the chocolate bits which is a bit hard to do when you eat mint chocolate ice cream because it’s always the chocolate that's richer and you get si—” a spoonful of your ice cream is stuffed into your mouth, spluttering you to a stop as you glare at Jisung whos laughing at your expression.

“I had to shut you up one way,” You fist your hand at him in faux aggression, pulling out your spoon and placing it back into your cup.

“Just eat it quickly before it melts,” You exclaim with a hurried expression, feet bouncing up at down in anticipation. Jisung glances at you while he picks up his spoon, prodding at his ice cream before he picks up a spoonful of his ice cream, slowly bringing it to his mouth as he looks at your expression. He only laughs and detours his spoon once, bringing the spoon back up to his lips when the expression on your face shifts to a deadpan.

The pink of his lip contrasts with the mint colour of the ice cream dripping slightly from the spoon, as he finally fits the ice cream in and gives it a taste. Looking at his eyes with suspense, Jisung’s default expression of scepticism is what you see first, before it shifts into surprise, into confusion, and finally into the same expression as a kid getting candy. The glint in his eyes shines bright in the dim lighting that you’re in, as Jisung points to the ice cream while he continues consuming the ice cream.

“It’s good,”

“Of course it’s good. I wouldn’t bring you to try good mint chocolate if it wasn’t actually good mint chocolate,” You stifle a giggle when Jisung throws you a glower.

“You know what I mean,” At his positive reaction, you comfortably dug into your own ice cream, a comfortable silence blanketing you two with background noises of cyclers whizzing by and people talking in the distance.

“You’re doing really well,” Jisung starts with his eyes darted away, suddenly shy to look at you as he says, “In badminton, I mean. Your overhead shots are cleaner than mine.” Eyes still averted, he elbows you lightly with his compliment. You preen at his praise, leaning forward subconsciously to him with a thank you.

“It’s all thanks to you. If you weren’t as good as you are I wouldn’t even know that there are two methods of serving the shuttle.”

Jisung’s laugh sounds less humorous, “Yeah, it must’ve been weird seeing me play alone during class,” There's a heavy pause as you visibly detect the boy sort through his next words. “I didn’t think you guys were . . . fond of me. When we first started,” You feel your stomach go white, colours flush from your face from his words. Did he know? Were you that blatant? You feel bad, remembering how isolated the boy was at that time as everyone distanced themselves since learning his level of expertise. You weren’t any better, the bitter feeling you harboured when you got ranked into the third group now coming back to you after three months of attending practice.

At the glum expression on your face, Jisung quickly goes to wave his hand. “Ah, it was— it wasn’t your fault or anything. I secluded myself too, so of course it would’ve been hard to talk as comfortably.” He rests his hand on yours that’s pressed against the bench, comforting you as if you’re the one whos been wronged, and not the other way around. Frowning at his consolation, you don’t know what comes over you as you flip your hand around, making your palm face his as you clasp his hands in yours.

You avoid looking at his expression as you make your bold move, looking at the river as you start. “If it makes you feel better, Jaemin always talks about how jealous he is of you whenever you do a smash,” Gathering the courage, you squeeze his fingers as you look at him, another question popping up in your head.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, of course, but—” You cut yourself short when Jisung nods his head at you, looking at you with a calm demeanour.

“Why do you still come to class if you’re already so good? I mean, I swear you’re at national levels at least,” Jisung snorts at your words, growing shy from your praise.

“I’m being serious, don’t laugh!” Even as you say your words with furrowed eyebrows, your efforts barely last as you smile at his bashful posture. Puffing his cheeks, he ponders a bit on how to answer your question; you’re about to tell him to just forget it, not wanting him to answer something so personal, when he straightens his posture and stares ahead with a determined expression.

“The first time I played badminton was at a family gathering for new years, and I might’ve been four or maybe five when my dad put a racket in my hand and swung my arm around to hit at the throws my cousins would send my way. Then when I got older and was forced to play actual sports in school, the only thing that I was willing to play was badminton. I didn’t try hard in the beginning and was there because I heard that the teacher conducting it didn’t really care,” You snort at the picture of young Jisung barely lifting his hand to play, or letting the shuttle zoom right past him while flinching away entirely.

“But when the interschool competitions came around and I was ranked in the last group to play, I had won by pure luck,” He rubs his hands up and down his pants as he reminisces, shoulder rubbing against your subconsciously. “And then everyone started cheering me on because apparently, my accidental win had helped us accelerate to the next round. It made me feel good that I was the cause of such a thing, so I tried a bit harder the next time. Then I asked the higher ranking kids to help me with my serving, and then my mom to admit me to a badminton class, and I ranked up from F to D, and then to B and then A. My class started to admit me to local competitions outside of school hours, and then it had become such a big part of my life that I was determined to get to a national scale.”

“Did you?” Your voice was quiet when you spoke, ending with a bit of a rasp from its lack of use. You were on the edge of your seat if your position meant anything, arms wrapped around your knees, thighs pressed to your chest, making the waistband of your shorts dig a bit higher. Jisung’s smile is a sentimental one, reminiscent of a win resulting from years of effort.

“I was fifteen when I was cast by a racket sports centre, which focused on training people ranging from kids to young adults to get to national competitions and even more. I was over the moon and became one of those kids you barely see in class and when you do, they’re just sleeping through the subject. My first competition was scheduled three months after my admission, which was unheard of; even kids who have been learning at the place for two years would struggle to pass the first rounds for the entry.” Your eyes move along Jisung’s hand, as he comically explains his words through the movement of his fingers, expanding and collapsing joints onto one another.

“I didn’t win the first one, but I won the second, and the third, and built a streak - although short, just four months into training. In the beginning, it was all so exhilarating, the thrill of winning the title of first place with all these people who were just as gifted, if not even more. And so I would win because I was capable, I didn’t win because I was it was expected of me.”

“But,” You murmur as Jisung halts, bringing his hand down as his fingers fiddle with the texture of the bench.

“But,” His excitement has burnt down to a sort of nostalgia, and you reach your hand down and clasp your hand over his again, before he looks down and turns his hand, palm facing yours as he links your fingers together. “But then, when I was seventeen, I had passed the initial rounds for the national Olympic competition. It was big news; our centre hadn’t had someone do that in decades, and that was when the pressure was tangible.

“My parents would schedule my day down to the minutes, and my coach made my diet strict, telling me what exactly I should eat each day until the competition. I loved the order and agenda that was set for me; I didn’t have to think what’s next? I just had to keep doing what I was good at. But then came the first round of the match, and the people were ruthless. No one was there to watch two teenagers play badminton, but instead fight for their lives. I didn’t think much about it until my third round that day when the kid I was playing against deliberately tried to hit the ball to my face.”

You couldn’t help it, your laugh had spilt out before you could even think of stopping it, but Jisung’s squeeze against your hand assured you that it was fine, as he chuckled with you.

“Who the fuck practices hitting the ball at someone's face?” Your voice was pitched higher with exasperation. “Do you reckon he had a cardboard cutout of you to practice on? I doubt someone can do the calculations of face-hitting range that quickly under pressure.” Jisung contemplates your idea teasingly, tilting his head and measuring random angels with his free hand. Seeing that, the weight of your hand held against his now weighs tenfold, as the butterfly in your stomach flutters with the subconscious squeeze of his fingers. You bump at his shoulder as you squeeze yourself closer, bringing your linked hands to rest against your stomach, wanting to hold him closer.

“It was definitely weird, but it didn’t set me off my rhythm, I just thought that it was a way to rile people up. But my coach was the one irritated, and when the boy had almost hit my eye, that was when my coach started to interfere,” You can only imagine the noise surrounding seventeen-year-old Jisung, his coach stepping forward to halt the game and talking to the referee to take some sort of action, pointing accusing fingers at the opponent and their mentors.

“The place that we were competing at was big, bigger than what I was used to back then, and there were a lot of people and so it was noisy; but the noise that my coach and the kid were making was something else. When my coach came back to me, all riled up, I couldn’t do much but take in his energy. I remember being very tense, thinking that I should just step my ground a bit more next time ‘round so they wouldn’t think of doing something like aiming the shuttle at my face.

“I think it was either the fifth? Or the sixth round, when I was in the zone of playing ‘professionally’ rather than doing what I was already good at. I would do overhead deliveries and front-hand serves even though I’d rather do a simple back-hand. Then there was an opening for a smash, it was a weak point for the guy— and I was over the moon with the opportunity. I’d only done the smash successfully maybe enough to count off of my fingers, but I knew that if I timed it right I would get it,” Dread fills your stomach at the direction that Jisung is going, You’re sure if you clench your fingers any harder there would be an imprint left of the poor boy's hand, but Jisung either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care.

Jisung’s chuckle drifts lightly in the air, “I was too enthusiastic, and I bunched up all my energy into hitting the ball that I’d missed the perfect time and instead had delivered a simple overhead. It would’ve been okay otherwise, I mean, I was able to deliver something instead of losing a measly point, but before I could recover, the shuttle had travelled to the back end of the court, and in my attempt of getting it, I’d tripped and landed pretty badly,” While telling the story, Jisung’s free hand had been wandering over his clothed knee, fingers fiddling with the fabric and one another. Bunching up the fabric at the end of his pant, he pushes up the lax fabric up and over his knee, where a pink and slightly faded surgical scar paints the inner side of his knee. Your hand clasps over your mouth once met with the scar, and your heart fills with admiration as you see him trace his healed gash with sentimentality. Bringing your linked hands to rest on your knee, you prop your cheek against it while looking at him, sparkling eyes encouraging him to continue.

“I couldn’t play anymore after that, not with the same vigour I had before. Suddenly I had to go back to class regularly and didn’t have to do any sort of reps just so I don’t fall behind on my weekly plan. My schedule had more free time than anything, and so I had enough time to get to thinking; what if I hadn’t misstepped? Would I have won? But I knew that all of that thinking wouldn’t do me any good. So when I was watching the Olympics months later, I remember seeing the camera pan onto the coaches, and how happy they were to see their student playing. I missed the joy of playing for the thrill and adrenaline of moving around, and so I thought, why not become a coach?” Understanding fills you as you realise why Jisung is going through all this effort of attending a class that he’s exponentially overqualified for. His cheeks go red as he realises your gaze settling over his figure, now looking away from you and onto the still water.

You can’t help it, you find it simply so endearing that he’s set his time into achieving something to allow people to have fun with badminton. Feeling overwhelmed with affection from his story and words and actions, you lean over and place a peck on to his cheek.

The contact was brief, as your lips barely took in the smoothness of his skin before you’re coming back with a start. “Oh my god, Jisung. That’s so cute, you’re generous and you’re going out of your way to do such good things, and you didn't deserve to go through that at such a young age—” Your words were smushed together as you barely reach the end of your sentence, the cause being Jisung’s big hands gently attacking your cheeks at once. His wide eyes stare straight at yours as his colder hands warm against the puff of your cheeks; and you are seconds away from voicing your confusion before you see his gaze settling on your pouted lips, glistening and redder from the ice cream.

You couldn’t even smile teasingly at him, as his hands refrain you from doing so. The nervous adrenaline running in your vein might be another reason too, but you don’t get to ponder on that for long before you see Jisung’s tilted head leaning closer, hooded eyes glancing at your eyes before focusing back on your lips, wanting to imprint it’s cute pouted shape.

The warmth of his lips lands on your cold ones, sending a wave of warmth to wash over you. You can feel his desire through the pressure of his lips against you, his soft lips fitting over yours lovingly. You mourn the loss as soon as Jisung pulls back, but not for long before he presses another close-mouthed kiss, this time with his hand tilting your head the other way, fingers slipping and cupping your jaw gently. Your stomach warms as you feel the fervour within Jisung, from the tip of his cold fingers on your heated cheeks to the push of his body towards you, wanting to get closer with each passing second.

When he pulls back, his eyes are clouded with the haze of your kiss and a bit of timidity. Your giggle bubbles between you, causing him to smile along with you, his shyness catching up. Not wanting his hand to stray far as they fall from your face, you clasp at his palm and lace your fingers, pulling down to get his face closer to yours, placing a peck at his nose first, scrunched from being bashful, and then one on his lips. And another, and another, then it’s him who’s leaning in and slotting his lips against yours, and you’re pulling your linked hands behind your back and let go, opting to slot your hand behind his neck.

After two, three, and four more kisses to the cheek, forehead and lips, you tuck your head into the junction of his shoulder and neck, feeling shy from doing all of this in public. Jisung’s laugh is sweet to your ears, hands rubbing up and down your back before brushing at the ends of your hair.

“Give a warning next time round, will you?” You tease as you pull back, hand falling on his forearms, eyes looking everywhere but at his.

“Sorry, you just looked too cute. I felt this sudden urge to either bite you or kiss you,”

You pull back even more, hands coming up to shield yourself in mock reservation. “I don’t know if I should be thankful you chose the second option or fear for when the first option will happen,”

Jisung hums, “Maybe both?”

Your pinkies are linked as you walk along the river, basking in each other's presence as you talk, shoulders brushing every now and then. It’s when you’re both childishly debating about who had fallen first when Jisung suddenly points his finger at you accusingly.

“Is that why you forgot your towel?” His question comes out more genuine than anything, as he tilts his head quickly in thought. With a light gasp, you smack at his shoulder before your arm falls back and crosses on your shoulders, scandalised. “I didn’t!”

“Was that how you were gonna seduce me? By forgetting your towel and having me bring it to you? What was next, you wanted me to lotion your legs for you too?” You can tell he’s teasing this time around, as his tongue pokes at his cheek ever so slightly to withhold the grin that was blooming across his features.

You point your finger at him, catching on. “You probably distracted me with your whole ‘which bottle of shampoo’ debacle just to make me forget it.” Poking at his chest with eyes squinted in suspicion, “You wanted to see me naked on the first date? That’s not very decorum of you.”

Jisung scoffs and rolls his eyes at your accusation, shoulders squaring to better defend himself. “I don’t need to go through all of that just to get to you,” He throws you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, a rush of giddiness washing over him with the look of your flustered expression.

“You’re right,” This time, you’re looking at his lips as you say this, catching Jisung off-guard with your compliance. Moving closer, you rest your hands on his arms, pushing yourself up and closer to his body, chests brushing. Your voice, barely above a whisper, brushes against his ear, “It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get to me, baby.”

You know the smile on your face is menacing if Jisung’s gaze on you is anything to go by, partly annoyed and part timid. Ghosting one of your hands down his arm, you slip your fingers in between his and give them a squeeze, giggling as you swing your arm back a forth a bit like a school couple.

Jisung’s next sentence takes a bit of effort to say if his demeanour is anything to go by. With his gaze settled on your intertwined hands and a slightly open mouth— as if to say something, you give his hand another gentle squeeze to encourage him.

The gleam in his eyes looks more assured as he straightens his posture and looks directly into your eyes, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Do you wanna go back to mine?”

Leaning in, you give another peck on his cheek, his scent pleasantly wafting through your nose. “I’d love to,”

You can feel the tension grow with the sound of the door closing and sounding its locking chime, toeing off your shoes as you look up at Jisung. He reaches out a hand towards you once you straighten up, pulling you close and guiding you towards the door of his bedroom.

Like the rest of the house, Jisung’s room is clean but still spotted with signs of use, with his desk having papers and laptop wires strewn around while a plethora of empty hangers are placed at the foot of his closet. As he sits on the bed, with his hand still holding yours, he tugs you forward, his free hand going to your thigh, clasping above your knee.

His eyes glisten as he looks up at you, “This okay?” his touch ghosts on you as he asks this. You nod your head, wanting him to touch you, needing him to touch you more. His fingers grow bolder and heavier in weight, as his hand clasps at the back of your thigh, bending your leg and resting it next to his thigh. Understanding his movements, you follow suit, settling yourself on his thighs with your linked hands resting on his stomach. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against you, easing in with feathery light touches. The slot of your mouths against each other starts a small fire in your stomach, as you push yourself onto him more, needing him to know that you crave more.

He sighs against your lips as you settle down more, the pressure not far from where he wants it the most. He kisses you feverishly, the smack of your lips growing louder with each plant of his lips. His touches grow heavier as his fingers go from grazing against your knees to tracing lines up your thighs, barely a touch away from settling under the seem of your skirt. Knitting your fingers in his hair, his hand flies to your love handles, squeezing them in an attempt to ground himself. A sigh leaves his lips when you separate just the slightest bit, taking a breather as you kiss the corner of his lips, hands falling from the ends of his hair down to his collarbones and at the bottom of his shirt. Your spread your fingers on the skin of his stomach, nails skimming ever so slightly making Jisung’s breath hitch, his stomach tensing under your touch, eyes still closed as he takes in your touch, his stomach knotting from finally being able to do this with you.

With his grip already tight on your waist, he maneuvers you off his lap and sits you on his bed, crawling between your legs, making you open them and welcome him in as you lie down on his bed. He kisses you again, his hands now staking claim everywhere he can, pushing your shirt up to your ribs, fingers grazing against your bud form under your bra before he brings his hands down and kneads at your thighs.

“Jisung,” You sigh when he swipes his tongue against your lips. He takes your tongue in his mouth, humming against it at your call, its vibration sending hot waves down your body. His touches on your body take you higher, but you need more.

And so you say just as much, “More, give me more.”

“Fuck,” He sighs against your lip, “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give you more, anything for you,” Pressing one last peck against your lip, you see his body slide down your figure, his fingers going to unhook your bra as you arch your back. He groans at the sight of your breasts free from your bra. “I love your tits, so much,” His hands are big against you, but they fit perfectly against the cup of your breasts, squeezing them together as he smothers himself against your cleavage. He licks a stripe of each bud, before focusing on your left one with his mouth, tongue lapping around the swell as he sucks, opting to circle his fingers on your other tit before pinching it harshly, making you keen against him.

You rake your fingers in his hair, petting him. “Such a good boy, you make me feel so good,” Your words make him whine against your breast, making his hip stutter against the mattress, for some sort of friction. He releases one hand from cupping your breasts, opting to use one hand while his now free hand dances its way down your torso, unzipping your skirt and taking it off, before meeting the seam of your panties. With his pointer finger, he hovers a line ever so slightly on your slit, eyes wide as he glances at the pleasure breaking out on your face and the wetness of your underwear spreading.

He keeps his touch light, drawing circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear, frustrating you. You huff when he uses the point of his fingers and presses the slightest amount into your hole, the fabric refraining you from feeling his direct touch. You pull at his hair that’s winded through your fingers, urging him on; he moans at the pull, getting the memo once he looks up at your face with an eye squeezed closed from pain or pleasure. Or both.

He licks at your entrance briefly through your panties, the heat and wetness making you moan, before his fingers finally fit themselves into the seam, sliding them down your legs. You feel more than see his gaze on your core, hooded eyes watching it squeeze around nothing as his fingers tease around it. He comes back up to you and presses his lips against yours, lips slotting together briefly before you feel his thumb rub against your sensitive nub, his middle finger prodding at your hole, eyes watching your face as he pushes the pad of his finger against you. You keen when his finger fills you, as he pushes his finger back and forth, his thumb following by pressing into your clit and pulling away rhythmically. He brings his head against your neck, licking a stripe against you before his teeth catch on your skin, lips wrapping themselves around you straight after, sucking into you before parting and finding another part of your skin to taint. He quickens his pace with his one finger, but it’s not enough, you can barely get enough of him.

Hugging his head that’s still tucked at your neck, you scratch at his scalp soothingly before pulling at strands of his hair. “Jisung,” You pant, “Another one, fill me up, please,”

“You want more?” He bites at your jaw lightly, before he pecks your lips lovingly, as if he isn’t trying to have you come undone with his fingers alone. You nod your head, “Please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You beg as your cup the side of his face, your eyes looking at his blown-out pupils, probably no different than yours.

Jisung gronas at your words. “You’ve been so good, such a good girl.” He pulls his finger out so just the tip of it hangs onto your gaping hole, before he joins in another finger, two fingers now filling you. You whimper out a thank you, hands clutching at his shoulders as he picks up the pace, hand now slapping against your cunt, fingers curling inside your sopping pussy. Your body feels like it’s floating and coiling into itself all at once, with Jisung’s unrelenting fingers contrasting his gentle pecks and scrape of teeth against your skin. Every few thrusts and squeeze against his fingers have his hips grind down, sometimes grazing against your leg, making you feel his hard-on.

You bring your hand down from his shoulder, curling it at the bottom of his shirt before tugging at it, mumbling the word off. He pulls back slightly and pulls his shirt off with his free hand while you help with getting it over his head. You scratch your nails against the lines of his stomach, eliciting a hiss out of his before you palm at the outline of his cock through his sweatpants. “You listen so well, don't you? Always doing your best,” You pant out, testing the waters as you tuck the tips of your finger under his waistband. His moan comes out higher in pitch with your words, hips jutting forward and into your touch.

“Good for you,” he breathes against your cheek, eyes squeezed shut at the brush of your fingers against his clothed cock, muttering another fuck under his breath, rutting into your palm for more.

You’re losing your patience, as Jisung speeds up his hand even more, the pleasure bordering with pain from his pace and harsher bites Jisung plants on you, too far gone with pleasuring you to be mindful of his strength.

You can feel your orgasm reaching, breath hitching and your stomachs coil tightening further and further. You wrap your hand around Jisung’s wrist, slowing him down slowly before prodding them out of you. You whine at the emptiness briefly but are soothed when Jisung plants wet kisses against your collarbone. You push yourself up onto your shoulders, making Jisung shuffle back slightly in order to not lose touch with you, Reaching over, you dig through your bag and pull out a condom, shaking it between your bodies to bring Jisung’s attention to it.

The sound of the plastic wrapper catches his gaze, “You’re gonna let me put it in?” He grabs the packet from your hand before gently pushing you back down. He kisses you again, seeming to not get enough, as he pushes his pants and boxers down in one go, his tip smacking against the soft lines of his stomach and leaving a glisten. The rip of the packet sounds before he rolls it on, and you shift closer when you feel the tip of his cock lined up with your pussy.

The sheets ruffle around you as Jisung comes down and places a kiss on your cheek before looking into your eyes. “Ready?” He asks, and with a nod of your head, you feel him slowly ease himself into you. The stretch feels amazing, as you both moan into each other mouths, your hands squeezing and wandering everywhere around Jisung’s shoulders, back, torso.

Jisung sighs, “Fuck,” His grip on your waist tightens, the pressure turning you on even more, squeezing around his cock. “You feel so good, so tight,”

“Fuck, Jisung,” You groan out as he quickens his pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your skin picking up. “Fuck, you’re doing so well. Stretching me out so good,” Jisung throws his head back, eyes squeezing shut at the pulse of your pussy around his member. He looks back down, wanting to see the join of your bodies, pulling out till his tip, before ramming himself back in, losing himself to the blissful feeling.

The knot in your stomach tightens. “Jisung, I’m close—” You’re cut off by your own moan as Jisung starts rubbing at your clit again, building a rhythm to his thrusts into you.

“Yeah? Fuck, let go baby,” He grunts as he bends down, his cock twitching inside of you as he kisses your lips before tucking his head back into your neck, lapping at your skin as he keeps up his speed with his fingers on your clit and his thrusts inside you. Your body curls up as your orgasm crashes into you, hands hugging at Jisung’s shoulders tighter as your thighs squeeze around his hips, keeping him in your pulsing core. Panting, you release your grip from his hip, bringing your leg down and patting Jisung’s head, wanting to kiss him again.

As he pulls away from you, you lean up and plant a kiss on his lips, chest bursting with the affection you feel while coming down. Jisung pulls his cock out from you, going slow as to not overwhelm you. He pulls off his condom, not having cum yet as his cock smacks against his stomach, the precum from the tip joining the light sheen of sweat covering his body. He fists his hand around his cock, tugging and pumping himself to a finish. You’re too spent to give him a helping hand, but you decide you haven’t spent your mouth enough.

“Pretty boy, you’re doing so well,” He hunches over your body at your words. “Looks so good fisting your own cock like that,”

“Fuck,” He groans, “If you keep going I’m gonna—”

“Cum baby, make a mess on me,” You run your hand up his thigh, before pulling up and grabbing at his hair and combing through the strands. His moan comes out high pitched as his hips stutter into his fist, before a spurt of come shoots out and lands on your stomach. He twists his fist around the head of his cock as he milks it out, before heaving a sigh and slumping down, placing a kiss on your shoulder before he lies by your side, cupping his body into yours. You continue running your hand in his hair as he settles on your shoulder, his cheek poking out which makes you poke at it. A giggle is shared as the giddiness of you two being together in the moment settles in, and when you go to place a kiss at his forehead, you’re reminded of the wetness of sweat all over your body and the slowly drying cum on your stomach.

“Oh, let me go get something,” He gets up and goes to his bathroom, coming back with a few paper towels and a wet cloth. Rubbing down your spent body, he pats you dry with the paper towel before putting them away and plopping down next to you, wrapping his arm around you and tucking himself close.

“I didn’t know you were the cuddly type,” You say as you hug at his shoulders, hands rubbing up and down as a faux massage.

“Well, I mean, I can let go?” Jisung’s nervous front grows again, as he goes to put some distance between the two of you. But before he could get far, you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulder as you hook your leg around his, stopping him from pulling away.

“I never said it was bad; I like this girlfriend bonus.” Jisung’s hair bounces as he pops his head up to look at you.

“Girlfriend bonus? Does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?”

“Only if you agree to my boyfriend bonuses,” You shrug. He laughs as he places his head back on your shoulder. “What are these so-called ‘boyfriend bonuses’ of yours?” You tap at your chin mockingly as you think.

“You can fuck my boobs next time?” You shrug again. His head whips up faster this time ‘round.

“Are you serious? Don’t joke about it, because if you are I won’t be—” You smack your hands on his cheeks, squeezing his lips into a pout. His shoulders slump at your attempt of shutting him up, eyebrows drooping as he gazes at you, making you laugh at his expression as you squish his cheeks repeatedly.

“Okay, good job guys, take a water break.” Coach Son claps, as everyone shuffles to their bags and grab at their bottles. Jisung’s elbow brushes against yours as he grabs his bottle from his bag next to yours, taking a few light sips before he places it down, looking at you with his cheeks full of water. It takes all his might to not spit the water out as you elbow him back and raise your fingers tauntingly, moving closer as if you’re about to tickle him.

Before you can successfully begin your quest, Coach lets out a sound as to gather you guys back ‘round, clapping his hands twice before waving you guys in.

“Since we’re coming to the end of the semester and you guys have proved to work really hard, I’m gonna conduct one last test to see how much your levels have changed since the beginning of the semester!”

“Oh my god,” You whisper out to Jisung as your hand cups your mouth, wide eyes looking at his as his eyebrows raise in surprise. This could finally be the moment that you can prove yourself, advancing onto a higher level to have an overall better ranking.

“Who wants to go first?” Jaemin steps up and raises his hand, confidently wanting to prove his skills.

He plays a round with the coach, showing signs of trying his best and knowing how to play, but his reaction speed comes a bit too late as he misses the shuttles by a step. Sometimes two. Sometimes he mixes up his left from his right, but that’s just occasionally. Minji and Ryujin play a round each, and show good improvement throughout the semester.

“You should go next,” Jisung leans into as he whispers, both of your gazes settled on the coach and Ryujin going back and forth with clears being delivered. Your blood rushes quicker at the thought of playing an official round, thinking of all the mistakes you can make that would cost you.

Sensing your nerves, Jisung places his hand on yours, grabbing it before giving the palm of your hand soothing rubs. “To help with the nerves,” He says when you look at your joint hands questioningly.

“Alright, next player?” Giving your hand a light squeeze, Jisung lets go and ushers you forward onto the court, as you raise your hand slightly, grabbing at your racket once Coach nods you in.

Arranging yourself, you pick up the shuttle left at your side and get into your serve position. You hit the shuttle and serve, commencing the game. You are able to reciprocate most of coach’s deliveries, stepping left and right when needed and angling your racket to optimise your own delivery, but it’s when you’re halfway through the game with Coach Son’s and your score being eleven and ten respectively, coach starts playing with a more advanced method. The drops become more frequent, catching you off guard as you have to run from the back to the front of the court in order to make it to the shuttle, as well as the clears going in different angles making you almost trip a few times as you attempt to make it to them.

Jisung has his fist at his mouth as he watches you from the side, with everyone else in awe at how quickly you’re moving compared to the last time they played officially.

“How did she get so good?” Haechan questions with his hand pressed on his racket. The whole class shifts their head from left to right at the sidelines as they watch you battling it out with their coach, the shuttle relentlessly being delivered with neither of you wanting to lose touch of it.

“It’s the perks she gets for having an almost professional-level badminton player of a boyfriend.” Ryujin’s smile is devoid of any callousness, patting at Jisung’s shoulder as she says this. Jisung can feel his cheeks grow red as he splutters into his sleeve, hiding his flustered expression as the rest of them shout out their reactions.

“All credit goes to her, she’s just a diligent student.”

“I can be diligent too,” Jaemin bats his lashes as he leans in from Jisung’s other side, but flinches and clutches at his shoulder when Soojin smacks him.

Back on the court, you’re starting to lose your breath when Coach delivers another serve to the back of the court, shuttle going straight as you attempt to create enough distance to successfully hit back. As he does a clear delivery, you position yourself at the back fo the court in order to meet his hit, before quickly centring yourself, preparing for his next move. From a steady pattern of his serves growing in your head, you were more than ready to reciprocate his short hit of the shuttle near the net, as you step forward and hit back.

Usually, you would’ve stumbled to hit the shuttle back at maximum velocity, sending it flying up and giving Coach more than enough time to think of his next move. But from your extra hours of playing with Jisung, you’re picked up the knack of delivering a short end with another short end, making the shuttle travel only the slightest bit over the net and plummeting down into the court. Coach Son is caught off guard when you do this, but his reflexes from years of practise kicks in, and before he could process his actions, he delivers a lob, sending the shuttle high in the air. Jisung gasps from the sidelines, making everyone alert.

He calls out your name, “Smash! Do a smash!”

With your eye settled on the descending shuttle, you think back to the one class you had with Jisung.

“You hit a clear when the shuttle can meet your hand at twelve o’clock. You have to wait for it to drop to the same level that you’re hand would be at a ten o’clock position to be able to deliver a smash; but remember that you have to keep going with your delivery until your hand reaches six o’clock.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

You’re still not sure what he meant, but with the fall of the shuttle, you’re not really at the privilege of recalling things for a long amount of time.

Positioning your hand at the first base, you wait for the shuttle to be at least a few inches from your head before you reach out, smacking at the shuttle and aiming at the bottom of the court. Coach, who was ready for you to hit the shuttle to the back of the court like you usually do, was not ready for the shuttle which was arriving at a quick pace. In a blink, the shuttle lands just past his ankles, and you’ve officially scored a point.

“Jisung!” You scream once the shuttle lands, looking at your boyfriend who was staring intently at your match. A look of victory glows across his face as his mouth drops in disbelief, eyebrows raised and fists clenched, over the moon at what you had just accomplished.

“I smashed! I did it! I smashed so hard oh my god, I think my arms gonna fall off,” The game is far from done for you to be celebrating like this, but you’re without care when the rest of the class cheers for you, Minji running up to you to give you a hug. You both start jumping with giddy while the rest join in, all while the coach looks at your huddled bunch with a smile on his face.

“This is Juda and this one is Chenle.”

“Why’d you talk about me as if I was a dog?”

“Because you are,” Juda shrugs before she plucks out a Yakult bottle from the packet in her hand, swingin it above Chenle’s face. “Who wants a treat? You do! Who’s a good boy?”

“Nice to . . . meet you guys too?” Jisung’s wave hangs mid air as he looks at Chenle slowly shift from a expressionless face to enthusiastically nodding his head up and down, wanting the drink.

“What did I tell you? You’ll fit just right in with us,” You link your arm through Jisung’s elbow, pulling him into your shared house with Juda before sitting him down on the couch. Juda and Chenle follow after, with the latter having his own bottle open and already emptied halfway. Juda offers Jisung yakult bottle, and goes to pick up the remote, going through the movies to put something on. You quickly grab a few snacks from the kitchen and come back, settling yourself right next to Jisung, leaving no space between the both of you.

“Wait,” Chenle turns to look at you from his positon on the ground, grimacing a bit at the sight of you two cuddled up, before continuing. “What happened with the new ranking then?” Your smile is shy when you look at him and Juda looking back at you expectantly.

“I got into group B.”

“YES!” Chenle whoops, grabbing Juda and shaking her by the shoulders. “No more whining and complaining and whinging about the class!” You chuckle as you cheer alongside him, with Jisung looking at your interactions with raised eyebrows.

Laughing, you tuck yourself into his side, linking your arms again as you rest your head on his shoulder. With Juda and Chenle bickering about settling on what movie to watch, you press a quick kiss on his cheek in appreciation.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” You smile at him, to which he grins shyly at. “Even though I lost, the smash pulled me through. Your smashing abilities were so flawless that even I, a young duckling was able to smash through,”

“Okay, thank you for the compliment but maybe don’t say how good my smashing abilities are—”

“You just smash so hard and so well—”

“Please—”

“Jisung the smash master!”

if you liked this, dont be afraid to tell me !

#park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #nct jisung #park jisung smut #park jisung fluff #nct dream smut #nct jisung fluff #nct jisung x reader #nct jisung smut

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a-twistedheartslonging · 10 days

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Nonhuman AU Jack.

Wolf beastmen are naturally bigger than their cousin, the dog beastmen.

Has black claws.

His fur is so freaking fluffy and he has so much of it. Arms, legs chest, underarms, floof happy trail, above his tail. It's perfect for shoving your face in. Be careful not to get it in your mouth.

Said fur is something he has a lot of and it’s thick. As a result, he has some problems with overheating, more so in the summer. Till his winter coat shades and… it's a lot and gets everywhere. It's around that time he’ll need to be taken outside a few times and given a good brushing. That floof will go everywhere and the local bird will wait nearby to take that floof going around for their nests. It's good quality nesting stuff and the birds want it.

A wolf pup’s eyes are blue at birth. Their eyes turn yellow by the time they are eight months old. This was also the case for Jack when he was a baby.

Is fully capable of crunching bones with his jaw and there's a local butcher back home that he and his family like to get those along with meat.

Like a regular wolf, Jack has a light-reflecting layer on his eyes, also known as tapetum lucidum and it makes his eyes glow in the dark and he also has good night vision.

I found out ravens often follow wolves to grab leftovers from the hunt—and to tease the wolves. They play with the wolves by diving at them and then speeding away or pecking their tails to try to get the wolves to chase them. Imagine Crowley liking to bother Jack...until Owl Rook shows up cuz owls also have some beef with corvids.

“Wolves howl to contact separated members of their group, to rally the group before hunting, or to warn rival wolf packs to keep away. Lone wolves will howl to attract mates or just because they are alone.” Kinda funny if certain beasties like him howl when they want to hang with their homies. You end up hearing random howling during a normal school day. Also, him howling because he's trying to attract his mate (you) and just looking at you expectedly after.

youtube

He tries to seem cold and distant at first but that doesn't last too long, still a tsundere about things though. The others keep pointing out how he helps you out more than he does his other friends. Well, obviously it's because the human needs more help things being weak and all…totally no other reasons.

You know those lines about how he messed up making that flower crown his sister wanted and how she ended up crying? And then he smooshed all those macaroons during the cooking thing? Yeah, he’s cononly bad with delicate things and even more so with those claws in the nonhuman au, he asks for your help with delicate things and offers to help you with other things in return. Lifting heavy things, reaching, scaring off other guys. Though he already does all that without even being asked. He also likes comparing your hands but gets annoyed at you calling his paw pads toe beans. He has mostly human hands, he just has the patting on his fingertips along with the pad on his palm...and he has claws....and fur on the top part of his hand....yeah mostly human hands.....

One time he got a tail sprang because being around you makes his tail go nuts. The others teased the hell out of him for it.

Wants you two to do things together and convinced you to try going for runs with him, unfortunately, you couldn't keep up with his big wolfie self. But when you were about to mention it he suddenly picked you up and carried you for the rest of the run saying something about adding this to his routine to make him stronger. It does become a part of his morning running routine.

A wolf pack may contain just two or three animals, or it may be 10 times as large. Once you guys become friends he decides the two of you are your own little pack and expects you to know that.

The two of you are around each other…a lot and not just because you guys share classes. However, he does insist on sitting next to you for each class. Wolves are pack animals after all. Always staying close. Walking you back to your dorm, making sure you have lunch together, and even taking food from his plate to add onto yours, kinda hovers around you, and wants you to either join his club or hang out where it's happening.

I hope you're prepared for wolf kisses once you're together. Now regular wolves do it for a few reasons. To show affection, say hello, to show respect, to see if you are sick, to see if you've eaten anything good. Wolfs with human handlers will even do it to them and they have to keep their lips shut really tied or else they’ll get sloppily frenched. Jack is gonna have some deep wet kisses, and straight up lick your teeth. And your face…and your neck…and…

He’s totally going to try grooming you the wolf way and get growly if you push his face away.

You will be scented often. When he sees you in the morning, before you leave, after a shower, after he smells someone else on you.

Keep a lint roller handy cuz of this guy.

When you are alone he’s a lot more affectionate and especially loves getting scritches on his ears, chest, and above his tail. You're the only person he will let rub his tummy in his full wolf form. You might even catch him making wolfie noises when you find a good spot to scratch.

He really likes it when you help him with his grooming, and with his kind of fur, he needs it often.

With wolf courting he will do with you what males do with females regardless if you're a guy, gal, or nonbinary pal.

With regular wolfs it usually involves the male following the female around and the female allowing him to approach her. They may vocalize, scent mark, and chase each other around. They may also touch noses, lick muzzles, mouth each other, bump bodies, groom, and nibble coats, the male may bow to the female, toss and tilt his head, and walk and sleep close together.

So, you not pushing him away is something he’ll take as you be cool with it. Tests things out with some nuzzles and a gentle nip or two. Some (cute) wolf noises, help you with your grooming, be it straightening out your clothes or even giving a lick. Will bump noses with you and gently bump your body with his. Will walk with you any chance you get and will want to have sleepovers more often.

Talk of wolf mating habits and Jack's junk below.

For wolfs mating season can be anywhere from January to April with the female having only five to seven days of estrus. During this time, the pair may move out of the pack temporarily to prevent interruption from other pack members. Since your human “mating season” is pretty much any time you ovulate if you can but really the whole thing that gets male animals when it comes to seasons is that they smell that their mate is excited/fertile, so anytime he smells you being aroused it's going to have him react. So, if he knows you're cool, with it he’s to want to get you away from everyone and take care of you.

However, with Jack, he will likely want to hold off on sex and want to date for a long while, build trust, and make sure you are right for each other. He takes dating and relationships very seriously. He only wants to have one mate for his whole life after all. Anyways, once he does deem himself ready and knows that you are too he’ll want to work his way up to full-on sex starting with oral, using hands, and whatnot.

He really likes giving oral, especially because of the taste and scent. Male wolves will smell the genital region to determine readiness to mate, tongue flicking in and out, and testing the air for traces of sex hormones and only stop if their mate growls and snaps their jaws at them.

A kind of funny/cute thing wolves do right before mating is act happy by nuzzling and whipping tails in each other's faces. Just all happy about mating I guess. I mean, Jack probably has his tail going already when you're making out or having actual sex. Ask him if he wants a blowjob then his face is all serious but flushed and his tail is going back and forth. Pretty darn cute I must say.

Yes, his dick is big, and yes, he has a knot. You'll be stuck together for about half an hour before it deflates, and he can pull out.

Kinda gross but he likes to clean your hole out with his tongue after mating.

#twst #twst x reader #smut #in the last half #twisted wonderland #nonhuman au #jack howl #jack/reader #twst jack #twisted wonderland jack #Youtube

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etherealising · 7 months

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chapter eight | to see a friend, to see a ghost

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a secret you’ve been keeping from carmen finally comes to light.

wc: 8.9k

song inspo: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (highly recommend to add to the heartbreak!)

If it was any later and the sky was any darker, you might have been startled by the figure waiting on your porch. But as you approached, arms occupied with bags full of decorations, you recognized that patch color jacket, and the baseball cap not doing nearly enough to disguise his features.

Stopping before your steps you just looked at the person for a minute, the man was obviously zoned out if he hadn’t already been alerted to your presence from the sound of your car arriving and now the slap of your boots against the pavement.

When you left that voicemail earlier, you hadn’t expected Carmy to take immediate action, it wasn’t like him. You also didn’t expect him to show up unannounced but maybe you should’ve waited before sending your address in that group text.

You made your way up the steps, the jingling keys in your hand finally drew the man’s attention, and the speed at which he flew off the chair situated on your porch was almost comical. Your eyes darted to his, taking in what you could see of his figure that wasn’t hidden behind his jacket or hat. He held two paper bags in one hand and the package you had been expecting in the other, sure the delivery driver just left it with him.

The silence stretched between the two of you. You could see Carmen begin to fidget in your peripheral vision; good he deserved to be uncomfortable for a minute or two.

Finally unlocking the door you pushed through, pausing to take your shoes off. The man behind you hesitated, not sure if he should move forward to follow behind you or not. He took a minute before stepping forward, your eyes meeting his as you stood between his only entrance.

“I don’t remember inviting you in,” it was harsh, but it was also the truth.

He stopped for a moment, cheeks flushing pink as he cleared his throat, “Can I uh, is it okay if I come in?”

It would have been easy to deny him access, leave him out here on your porch, or even allow him to squirm more. But you could hear Pete’s words playing in your mind as you thought of all the petty things you wanted to do at that moment.

You let out an exasperated sigh the constant back and forth between the two of you was finally catching up. You nodded before heading to your living room to drop the bags off on the couch, the open door an invitation for the man on your porch. The bags were safely deposited on your couch as you moved to head into your kitchen, stopping short as you spotted Carmy still standing in your foyer.

A chuckle escaped your lips at the awkward man. You made your way to him, stopping in front of him and taking the package from his hand and the two grocery bags. “You can leave your shoes and jacket out here.” You left him standing alone in the foyer, confident he would find his way to you eventually.

Carmen watched as you disappeared further into your house, the man quickly shedding his shoes and accessories, stopping at the mirror by the coat rack to tame his messy hat hair. He felt like a teenager all over again, fussing over how he would present himself to you. Carmy moved in the direction you had gone in, steps slowing as he tried to take in everything he could about your abode, from the decorations to the colors swatched on your walls. It all reminded him of things he missed out on with you, would you have gushed to him about the prospect of owning a home? Would you have asked his opinion on design choices?

The two of you had once gone to each other for everything, and because he was afraid of being completely vulnerable to his feelings for you, he felt like a stranger on the outside looking in.

He found you in the kitchen, eyes locked on the bottle of wine in your hands he brought with him, “You uh…talked about how much you loved it back in New York so I-I thought it might be nice to have it again.”

Your index finger traced the label of the bottle in your hand, memories of that weekend flooding through you, but that’s just what they were; memories. It was the present day now and no matter the itch you felt to let the red wine warm your mouth, drink enough of it to dull your senses, you wouldn’t allow yourself to.

“What are we doing Carmen?” The bottle of red was gently placed on your island as you looked at the man standing in the space just between your kitchen and living room.

Seeing him in a space that had been wholly your own felt a little weird, you didn’t want to think about the times you imagined what it would’ve been like to share such a space with him as you watched him stand in your house like he was meant to be there; like he belonged.

“I got your voicemail,” you leaned your elbows on the counter propping your head up as you listened. “This is me accepting your olive branch, I just…wanna make things right between us..” The explanation pulled a sigh from your lips, fingers tracing patterns into the marble island beneath you. You left the voicemail with the assumption that it would take Carmen a bit to get back to you, he had never been adamant about fixing your relationship before.

“You also have something I need,” Carmen watched as you raised your eyebrows, eyes leaving the spot you were tracing.

“And what would that be?” The scar between your eyebrows felt tight as your face pulled into a frown, your brain wandering to figure out what you could possibly have that Carmen would need.

Carmen sent a small smile your way, “Let’s cook and we’ll talk about it after.” You watched as the man joined you on the opposite side of your island reaching to remove the rest of the food from their bags.

The genuine laugh that bubbled out of your chest filled Carmy with warmth, “Do you always walk into people's houses and try and negotiate?”

Carmy did his best to control the warm fluttery feeling in his chest, the weeks without you were hard and the fact that your laugh could ease his full body ache was enough for him to realize just how much he wanted you as a constant in his life. “I didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

A silence lapsed between the two of you as you helped unpack the rest of the food. This whole situation felt like a bad idea, you definitely weren’t over Carmen’s stunt or the previous incidents where he let you down. But you had been skating through this year on borrowed time, and the time apart helped to calm your anger, you felt like you were in a much more level headed place to finally figure out what the hell this thing was between the two of you. And Pete’s words at lunch helped to give you a new perspective on the whole situation.

“What the hell are we even making?” Baking was your preferred form of cooking, so as you looked at all the ingredients laid out it was a bit confusing to piece the meal together.

The sound of your voice warmed Carmen’s senses, the silky tone danced through his ears buzzing against his brain. “Chicken Marsala.”

You nodded, declining a glass of wine with dinner was one thing, but now looking at the new bottle of Marsala that would be in your meal, you’d have to decline the whole dinner.

“That sounds so fucking delicious but I…I actually can’t eat it.”

Carmen stopped his ministrations with the ingredients, “No you’re good I uh I didn’t get anything you’re allergic to.” His eyes darted across the ingredients double checking that he hadn’t bought any compromising ingredients.

“Thank you, Carm, your consideration is thoughtful.” The extra measure made your heart rate speed up.

It was crazy really how the same man standing in your kitchen swearing up and down he didn’t buy any foods you were allergic to, could also be the same man who came across as uncaring.

“I appreciate the effort I do but…” Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. How could you admit to your best friend, the person who once knew you most, that almost a year ago you were staring at blank hospital walls as some doctor explained to both you and Natalie just how close to death you were? “Carmy I-”

The hand resting on your elbow helped to calm your breathing, it wasn’t like you weren’t ready to admit your overdose to Carmy, you were just worried about the aftermath. “Baby hey, you with me?” You felt the hand skate down your arm, Carmy’s thumb soothingly caressing your pulse point.

You turned to face Carmen searching his eyes, doing your best to memorize the way he looked at you, unsure if you’d ever be graced with this intimate gaze again. “Carmen I…I’ve been sober for 7 months.”

The silence in your kitchen was loud, You needed Carmy to say something to you, yell at you, call you a hypocrite for blowing up on him all those weeks ago when you had been the one lying to him this whole time. It would be easier if the blank wide-eyed look on his face morphed into one of disgust, hatred, hell any emotion would’ve been welcome. “You fuckin’ with me right?” The apprehension in his voice was the result of not knowing if he could bear to hear the idea that something so heinous could plague you.

The wobble of your bottom lip was enough, Carmen’s eyes skated across your face landing on the three prominent features that had been added to your appearance; the tiny scar on your upper lip, the one between your brows, and the jagged raised one stretching the length of your jaw.

The breath in your throat hitched as his finger slowly traced the long scar, the touch sent shivers through you. Your eyes watched him as he watched you, finger deliberately taking in the pattern on your jaw, his hand unconsciously moved to cup your face in the way he liked, forefinger pressed into your hidden tattoo as his thumb began caressing the corner of your lips.

“What the fuck happened to you, Baby?”

The shower you just finished was much needed, Carmy volunteering to pick up different ingredients while you relaxed before the two of you began this search for the truth. He didn’t say it but you knew he needed some time to internalize the small piece of truth you told him, to rationalize just how much you had gone through in your time apart.

You could hear Carmen shuffling around in your kitchen as you stepped out of the bathroom, steam following you out. Grabbing your moisturizer you moved to sit on the edge of your bed, mind racing to figure out what you were even doing putting yourself in this situation.

These past three weeks without Carmen felt needed, you were thankful for the time apart to focus on yourself and your wellbeing. But it always felt like there was a piece of you missing, it felt like that every time the two of you parted ways. The difference was instead of spending the time apart worrying over Carmy every minute you had finally put yourself first, and began living for yourself just like Tina had advised all those years ago.

And while a part of you wanted to continue this childish charade of ignoring Carmy, only showing up at the restaurant when Richie assured you he wouldn’t be there; you couldn’t. It took too much energy to live your life around Carmen’s especially since the two of you were so much more involved with each other than you had been in a while. Even without Pete’s words of advice, you could see the toll it was taking on the people around you. Natalie was too scared to even mention her brother for fear you’d have a meltdown. Richie’s anger for your situation souring his relationship with Carmen. And Carmen himself, he who had become a haggard sunken-in version of himself, the time apart affected him the worst his patience nowhere to be seen from the few times Richie had offhandedly mentioned him in your presence.

The two of you had been in each other's lives for longer than you could remember and you didn’t want to lose that friendship over your pride. During your time away from Carmen, you had come to the decision that you would be fine if all that was fated to be between you two was a friendship.

More recently you had decided that maybe it was for the best, maybe the two of you were never meant for anything more, anything good. Maybe it was naive to think you deserved anything good with all the hurt your selfish choices caused. Maybe it was best not to take any time and attention away from your recovery. This friendship was just a whole bunch of fucking ‘maybes’ recently.

But one could say that ‘friendship’ went out the window when the two of you crossed that blurred line a year ago.

You paused as your hand reached for the old crew neck you’d usually sleep in, as much as you loved the garment you couldn’t allow yourself to give Carmen any false hope about what would come from this. Walking into your closet you quickly grabbed your oversized ‘The Beef’ crew neck, slipping it over your head before stepping into your sleep shorts and a pair of fuzzy socks.

Exiting your bedroom you stopped by your record player, buying yourself time before you’d have to face Carmen and all the truth that would be exposed in this one conversation alone. You flicked through your vinyl selection before picking your favorite one, needing something comforting for everything that was bound to transpire.

You entered your kitchen seeing Carmy’s back at your stove sent an ache through you. The man cooking in your kitchen was a vision you had more than once, it was almost right, the only thing missing was the small figure you imagined standing in a chair next to Carmy watching from over his shoulder.

“Smells delicious Carm,” you sent a tired smile his way as he looked over his shoulder at you, eyes falling just above his own, no courage left in you to take in the look he was giving you. “What did you end up cooking?” Carmen’s eyes were stuck to you, your words falling on deaf ears, you fidgeted in your spot, the insecurity of being judged by the one person you didn’t think you could handle it from, weighed heavy on you.

Carmen cleared his throat as he watched you sink into yourself. He hadn’t meant to make you feel any type of way with his stare, he was just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that things had been so bad for you and he had no idea because of his selfish inclinations. “It’s uh Chicken Alfredo, I thought it was safest.”

The air in the kitchen was tense, neither of you knowing how to be around the other at this moment, and you hadn’t even gotten down to the harsh truth of everything yet. “Can you…uh what do you mean you’re sober? I-I know what it means jus-I,” you watched as Carmy closed his eyes, a huff escaping him as he couldn’t articulate what he wanted to say. “Baby, help me understand. Please?”

You could hear the thickness in Carmy’s voice, the two of you watching each other with matching glazed stares. You stood frozen for a minute, your fight or flight instincts kicking in and it took everything in you not to leave the conversation as it was. A sigh escaped you before you nodded your head and hopped to sit on the island, fingers picking at the stray threads on your shorts.

Carmy turned the fire on the stove down before turning to lean against the counter next to your stove, the two of you now facing each other. The distance between you felt like it stretched on for miles, and maybe it did, the two of you didn’t know each other like you once used to. You and Carmy weren’t the same teenagers who shared everything, even the smiles you shared at this point in life held a different meaning.

You never knew where to start this story, was it better to ease the person in, or was it better to just rip the band-aid off all at once? “Now that I’m better I don’t think any reason was good enough for what I did to myself…what I did to the people I love. But uh, Mikey’s death was definitely a catalyst for everything.” You looked up to see Carmy watching you intensely, arms crossed over his chest, you can’t remember a time you’d ever seen him look so serious.

“I was alone, and maybe that’s just an excuse. We…we just buried Mikey, and I was scared to believe he was really gone, it didn’t feel right. I didn’t want it to be true.” You sucked in a deep breath trying to gather your thoughts. “I stayed in Chicago for a long time after that, your mom…gosh she was a mess and I understood why her grief was valid, but I…I just knew Nat couldn’t, didn’t deserve to fix things alone, so I just kept extending my stay.” The small sigh Carmen breathed was lost as you settled more and more into your explanation.

“An-And Richie was doing his fucking best to keep The Beef open but I could tell it was taking a toll on him. Tiff had filed for divorce just months ago and then he was dealing with Mikey’s passing. And I think, I thought if I just helped everyone get better I wouldn’t need to grieve, because I was surrounded by all the people I loved, and their wellbeing mattered most to me.” Carmen’s eyes stayed on your figure allowing your words to settle into him, it hurt knowing how much slack you had to pick up because he couldn’t bring himself to face the music.

Quiet sniffles came from where you sat atop the island. “Carm, you weren’t there…and I promise I’m not blaming you for the decisions I made, none of that is on you. But I just wanted my best friend, and I just needed to know you were okay. And when you weren’t at the funeral my mind went to the worst thoughts first. But then I…I just showed up in New York and you acted like your world wasn’t ending and then I just felt selfish because how was it that your brother just died and I was the one acting like I’d lost the person I looked up to most.” Carmy could feel his chest tighten, your words becoming less and less easy to swallow the more you spoke.

“And for a moment it was like the world stopped screaming like all I needed was your presence to assure me that everything would be okay,” a small sad smile rose to your lips as you thought about your time spent with Carmy in New York. “It-it was blissful and everything I wanted but I knew it was ending, we both knew it was ending you didn’t see a future with me.” You had to stop yourself, a sob sure to be ripped out if you didn’t give yourself a minute, “And I accepted your decision, it was for the best.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, barely beginning to scratch the surface of the worst of what you’d done. The new position provided you the comfort and protection you felt you needed. “I got back to Chicago, and I was only supposed to be here for a few more weeks but then…then I-I got sick and Rich-.” You clasped your hands over your mouth unsure if you could lay all your indiscretions on Carmy at once, unsure if you could mentally handle the toll the two confessions you desperately needed to make would take on you.

Rough palms enclosed your cheeks, moving your head so that you were face to face with Carmy. You could see the unshed tears in his doe-blue eyes, but other than that he didn’t seem to be affected. “Take your time, yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along with him so you knew it was okay. The left side of his lips ticked up in a half smile, you let him lean in and place a delicate kiss on your forehead before he moved out of your space. “I’m here okay, I’ll listen for as long as you let me.”

Carmen was making this harder than it needed to be, how could you justify telling him one secret and not the other when he was being so understanding? Carmy made to move back to his original position, your grip on his hand stopping him, a quiet sigh escaping his lips at how fragile you looked. “Lemme turn off the stove okay?” You reluctantly let go of his hand, scared that at the loss of contact, he would take his chance to flee from you.

You watched as he turned the stove off, moving the food he had been cooking to the back burners, you felt bad that he had cooked for the two of you and neither of you would be enjoying it. He moved around the kitchen fear spiking in you as you thought for sure he was going to leave, to wipe his hands of you. He returned to you with a glass of water that he delicately placed in your hands before replacing your legs to their original position and taking his spot between them. Carmy’s finger tapped the glass in your hands “Drink up.” A small nod was your only response as you did as told you before setting the glass down beside you.

Carmy returned his hand to your grasp nodding to let you know he was ready to continue if you were, you took one last deep breath mind made up on how you would handle the rest of this conversation. “He uh Richie, he found me in the walk-in. You know that moment when you know something is wrong but you don’t know how you know. It was kind of like that, like Richie and I both knew I had done something wrong and Carmy,” your voice quivered as your eyes met his, the tears falling at a faster pace as he looked at you so earnestly, hanging onto every word you said. “I’m so sorry.”

Carmen’s brows furrowed, eyes widening as you collapsed against him incoherent apologies addressed to him spewing from your lips. His head came to rest atop of yours as you shoved your face into his chest your words turned to messy babbling as you tried to choke out words through your sobs. For all his social ineptitude Carmy knew there was something you weren’t telling him, something you weren’t being entirely honest about, and he wasn’t sure how it tied into your sobriety. But the way you were apologizing to him made him feel like he was partly responsible.

Your cries were beginning to grow in volume and Carmy was at a loss for what to do. He’d seen you cry before, hell he’d caused most of it but he couldn’t recognize you at this moment. The sobs that escaped you were echoing through the quietude of your house, you had never been an audible crier, usually a few tears escaping your eyes were the most Carmen had gotten. But these cries wracked your entire body, Carmy could feel them rattling his rib cage each sob breaking his exterior down more and more.

He wrapped his arms around you letting your tears soak his shirt, his tears beginning to run down his cheeks. The grip he had on you tightened ever so slightly as you sobbed your throat raw. Carmen needed to know what could’ve caused this reaction, he needed to know what you could ever have to apologize to him for. He felt you moving to get out of his grip, but he held you there as his tears dripped into the crown of your head, quickly wiping his eyes before he pulled back from you allowing you a fresh breath of oxygen.

“Carmy?” Your voice was scratchy as you played with his fingers avoiding any form of eye contact, you raised his knuckles to your lips kissing the ‘ou’ on his middle and ring finger. “Could you hold me for a little bit?” You raised your head to Carmy’s doing your best to send him a reassuring smile, to let him know everything would be okay.

Carmen frowned, he knew that smile anywhere. Even when you were so obviously going through something he couldn’t quite yet understand you would put his feelings before your own. He let out an exasperated sigh your need to put others well being before your own a habit he swore to himself he’d break.

The hand you kissed raised to your face, a light grip on your chin as his thumb caressed the space beneath your lower lip. Carmy leaned forward placing a soft lingering kiss on the scar between your eyebrows, “Let’s take a break yeah?” Carmy watched your body deflate.

He took a step back as you hopped off of the island, the two of you moving to your L-shaped couch. Carmy laid down opening his arms to hold you like the two of you had done hundreds of times while growing up. He knew the gesture would pull a smile out of you, a soft chuckle leaving him as you easily snuggled into him. Your face reverting to its home in his chest, his chin once again resting against the top of your head.

The light atmosphere was short-lived as you relaxed into Carmy, all of your words finally beginning to sink into him. He was happy for the intermission the time would help him to understand what you had told him thus far, to figure out how he could ever make up for the way he constantly held the door open and let you walk out of his life. The way he essentially cut you out of his life because he was afraid to admit to himself that what he felt for you for all these years wasn’t just lust and longing, but love.

Carmy’s fingers had been gently rubbing your scalp for the past forty-five minutes, the position the two of you were in reminiscent of a scene from New York when you visited. Now it was being translated in your own home, Carmy was laying on the couch one arm settled behind his head to prop it up, looking down on you to make sure you were okay. You were settled between his legs, your upper body pressed into his stomach as your head rested on his sternum.

“Baby?” Carmy did his best to whisper, not wanting to disturb you in case you had fallen asleep.

“Hmm?” Your response was so quiet it was easy to miss, Carmy was unsure if you had let out a quiet hum or if you were making noises in your sleep.

He stopped his ministrations on your scalp, his lips ticking up at the soft whine you let out “You asleep?” The question was followed by his fingertips resuming their massage.

“No, your heartbeat is just soothing.” You snuggled your face deeper into Carmen’s stomach, the movement raising goosebumps on his exposed arms. “Carm?” Your quiet voice drew his attention the apprehension clear on his features as he prepared himself for the words soon to leave your mouth. “There’s something that I need to tell you…something that you deserve to know. B-but I don’t think I can do it tonight. And I know that’s not fair to you but I think for my own sake I need to be in a better space mentally.” You shuffled around again turning to lie facedown, one of your cheeks rested against Carmy’s stomach so you could comfortably look up at him.

The confusion in his eyes was evident, whatever it was you couldn’t tell him was making him beyond nervous. It was hard because you had never kept a secret from him unless you absolutely needed to, and when you did it was never for anything more serious than a gift you were getting for him. But he knew he couldn’t force whatever truth you had to tell out of you, a part of him felt a bit relaxed, not knowing how much bad news he could take in the span of one night.

Carmy’s hand reached out palming the side of your face, thumb grazing back and forth in the space just beneath your eye, “You can share it with me when you’re ready m’kay? I’ll wait as long as you need me to.” He pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear, watching as your eyes closed, a slight grimace on your face as you leaned into his palm more.

“You’re going to hate me, Carmen.” The words left your mouth with so much conviction all Carmy could do was frown, the idea of ever hating you would have never crossed his mind. He wanted to reassure you but lost his chance as you abruptly sat up, the movement caused him to sit up as well, the two of you only inches apart now facing each other. You forced a smile as your side relaxed on the couch, head propped against it as your eyes wandered around Carmy’s features. “Let’s just get through tonight and then we’ll worry about everything else.” You were exhausted. Carmy could tell by the way your blinking slowed, he wanted you to stop, to get some sleep, to put your needs before whatever made you feel like you owed him any explanation.

“Bab-,”

“I was in the hospital for a bit because I…I was sick. But after they discharged me I had been gone from my own life for so long I was so close to not having anything to return to. So I came home and forced the past month into a literal box in my closet, pretended none of it happened.” You were running on fumes at this point, with no regard for whether Carmy was even still listening to you, just this force within you driving you to finish the story.

“There was uh one thing that I couldn’t force myself to get rid of-,”

“The voicemail.” Your eyes shot to Carmy's, his silence easily making you forget he was even still here, that you were recounting these memories for a reason. You nodded eyes unfocused as you looked past him, would there ever be a time you could remember that part of your life without flinching every time you thought about it?

“It started slow, I was just getting back into the swing of things remembering what it was like to be alone after being in Chicago surrounded by people who actually cared about me. I would go out with my co-workers after a shift, drink just enough that I could get myself home, but not enough for anyone to worry about me.” A sardonic laugh left your lips, you were sure nobody would care about you, and you hardly had any strong ties to the West Coast.

“It helped…until it didn’t until I was drinking so much it was almost like my body was immune to the effects. But who needs their liver am I right?” The pinch to your thigh jolted you. Carmy wasn’t welcoming your self-deprecating jokes.

You raised your hands in defense, a humorless chuckle leaving you. “If I’m being honest, I don’t even remember getting that first prescription…not even the ones after it.”

“Wait,” Carmy moved so his feet were firmly planted on the floor, legs spread as he rested his elbows on his thighs. “What the fuck does a prescription have to do with this? Baby?” Carmy wasn’t stupid, he didn’t need you to spell it out for him but the sliver of hope in him was dwindling as the minutes of silence continued to tick by.

You shrugged, moving to sit crisscross applesauce staring blankly at Carmy’s side profile, one of his legs bouncing up and down. “You know they really should make those warnings bigger. About not mixing drugs and alcohol, the font is so tiny how cou-,”

“Stop!” You didn’t even flinch at the loud volume of Carmy’s voice, eyes following his figure as he flew up from the couch. The man was now pacing in front of you, one hand settled on his hip as the other furiously swiped across his forehead. “Why do you…do you…fuck!” The vein on his neck protruded with his frustration. “How do you just sit there and make fucking jokes about this shit Baby! Why the fuck is any of this funny to you?”

The urge to defend yourself was surging through you, in a way you knew Carmy’s reaction was valid. But it wasn’t like there was a handbook on the proper way to deal with your trauma, and you wouldn’t allow him to tell you right from wrong.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Carmen! I did it okay! I drank and I took the fucking drugs and when that shit stopped working on its own I thought hmm why the fuck not mix them because what the fuck could possibly be worse than living. In some fucked up way did I think it would help me understand Mikey? Maybe. It’s not like I fucking planned this shit! I didn’t plan to become addicted okay, that wasn’t supposed to happen I had a system…I had a fucking system.” It was like everything was becoming clearer the moment those last words left your mouth, you may not have planned the beginning, but as you thought back to what could’ve been your last moments you were almost certain some still sane part of you knew what you were doing.

Soft laughter left your lips as the pieces were starting to fit together in your head, the sound only growing in volume as you realized just how fucked up you were. Your eyes were unfocused as your gaze flew to Carmy, the whisper of ‘Baby’ lost in your internal revelation.

“I threw myself through that glass door, not on purpose I can’t even remember why the fuck I wanted to get outside so bad. But I-I remember swallowing those two extra pills and thinking what the fucks gonna happen to me huh, I’ve lasted this long.” Carmen couldn’t recognize you, the tears had started again but he was certain you couldn’t even tell, you looked possessed, your eyes flashing all around the room a wicked smile painted your lips as you spoke to no one in particular.

“Barely made it past the threshold before my body gave out, I wish I could remember, even if only for a second. What it felt like to have your body want something more than your brain did. But you know what the fuck happened Carmen?” Your eyes finally shot to his, you looked like a skittish animal ready to fight Carmy to the death if he encroached on your territory.

A sardonic laugh left your lips, your tongue swiping across them, the saltiness of your tears a shock to you. “I woke up and there Natalie was, right beside me. And you know my first thought wasn’t what happened to me or-or what the hell is Nat even doing here? I didn’t even pay her any attention the whole first two hours, and you wanna know what I was thinking Carmen?”

“Don’t.” The plea escaped his lips in a whisper your heart clenched at how desolate he looked.

“I laid in that hospital bed, and I looked at those stupid fucking fluorescent lights and I thought; Mikey got it right the first time, why couldn’t I.”

Carmen felt numb, like his whole body had been submerged in an ice bath and no matter how hard he fought to get out, it was like his body and mind were on two different wavelengths. He’d seen that stare before, in the eyes of his brother, the same way Mikey looked at Lee at Christmas dinner all those years ago was the same way you were looking at him now in your living room.

He wasn’t sure if there was a proper reaction to the truth you had just dropped. Mikey was dead, that made things easier, but here you were alive and well from what he could tell and he would have his time to mend things with you if that’s what he wanted. But he wasn’t sure he could stand in such proximity as you at that moment, wasn’t sure if he could even look at you. You had been the second closest person to Mikey, presumably knew he was doing drugs, knew he was spiraling out of control, and followed right after him.

Was there anything Carmy could have done to alter your path? Maybe if he had stayed by your side that night after Christmas you wouldn’t be standing here now talking to him about how badly you wanted to end it all.

Carmy drew in a sharp breath a small sob following it as he tried to control his emotions, he began taking small steps in your direction not sure of what he was going to do, but needing you to know his silence wasn’t because he was disgusted or disappointed in you; but in himself. How easy it would’ve been to keep in contact with you after high school graduation, how easy it would’ve been to just let himself love you and take care of you, be there for you. And as much as he wanted to believe you knowing how he felt would’ve changed much, he knew it was naïve, addiction was an illness and even if Carmen had fought harder to keep you in his life there’s no promise that he wouldn’t have been the one to find you floating in the space between life and death.

He slowly reached out to you, hands carefully grasping your cheeks in his eyes, committing your face to memory, mind racing with all the times he took being able to see it daily for granted. “Ba-baby, tell me you don’t mean that,” he waited, eyes rapidly flicking back and forth from yours. His grip on your face was just loose enough for you to send him the saddest smile he’d ever had the chance to see, “Please?” The broken whisper floated between the two of you before your head softly nodded up and down to confirm that indeed he was almost forced to live without you.

And this time it wasn’t his choice.

Carmy sat on the floor in front of your couch, back resting against it, head tipped back to rest on the cushion face pointed toward the ceiling. All he could hear were the soft breaths escaping you and his thudding heart in his ears. It took a while before you had finally calmed down, Carmy held you in his arms on the floor as the two of you cried. Your sounds lashing against his heart over and over again. He was exhausted, more than he usually was, the night far from what he hoped it would be. He was so overwhelmed by all that you had been willing to reveal to him, that the instinct to do something with his hands as you slept took over, the man dutifully cleaned your kitchen and stored the uneaten food away for you to eat at a later date.

And now here he was, back at your side finally coming to terms with everything he learned. Carmy felt like a fool he had prided himself on his friendship with you, always made it a big deal that you were his friend first, his friend by choice. But it had been almost 10 years since he decided to shut you out of his life with no reason, no explanation why and it was selfish of him. Selfish that he had so blindly pushed you away without a thought to how it would make you feel. Selfish of him to always expect your acceptance and open arms when it was convenient for him to re-enter your life.

He let out a small sigh raising his head from its position on the couch, eyes latching onto the dated picture atop your mantle, your cheesy smile staring back at him as Richie and Mikey surrounded you. His eyes poured over the picture, taking in how happy the three of you looked, and how simple everything was when the two of you were teenagers. A quiet humorless laugh escaped his lips as he reminisced, he was lying to himself if he thought your time as teens was simple, but compared to the lives the two of you were leading it sure as hell did feel that way.

Carmy allowed himself a moment longer to enjoy the happiness the picture exuded. He gave it one last glance before he adjusted his position on the floor, turning slightly so his side was leaned into the couch, eyes landing on your face as you slept. It felt like his heart was constantly breaking whenever he looked at your face, it was evident you’d been crying, the puffiness of your eyes easily giving it away. He reached his hand out, hesitating for just a second before he pushed the hair out of your face palm resting on your cheek as he began to softly stroke in back and forth. Since the first time he saw you this year, this was the most peaceful you had looked, he was glad that sleep had been able to bring you that sense of tranquility, but he wanted that for you always, to feel at peace on any given day and as he watched you back moving up and down to signify the breaths your were taking, he promised himself he’d provide that for you; even if it was only as friends.

“What am I gonna do with you, Baby?” The hoarse words left him in a sigh, a small smile making its way to his lips as he watched your nose scrunch up at the sound of his voice, eyelids slightly twitching.

He watched as you turned to lay on your side, lips brushing across his pulse point a small kiss now decorated his veins. “Still be my best friend?” Carmy laughed at your small voice taking up the space between the two of you. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, thankful that Carmy had figured out how to dim the lights in your living room. “Do you remember that promise we made the summer before seventh grade?” Your voice was scratchy from all the sobbing and borderline screaming from earlier.

Carmen nodded his head, a small smile raised on his lips, hand moving from your cheek to cup the back of your neck. “Of course, I do,” the smile only lasted for so long as he was forced to remember a promise he broke with no regard. “That we’d be best friends no matter what, even though we didn’t want each other’s cooties.” Carmy was happy to hear the sound of your melodious laughter, he spent so much time listening to your broken cries he was afraid he’d never know anything else.

“I’m sorry Carmen, I…I didn’t mean to blow up on you. I think telling you about my overdose…it helped me come to terms with it myself.” Your eyes were lidded, all the crying made them feel heavy, if Carmy wasn’t here in front of you right now you were sure you would’ve been dead asleep.

A small content sigh escaped you as Carmy’s thumb ran back and forth across the side of your neck, “You have nothing to apologize for we-I know I haven’t been a great friend to you these past years. And for that I’m sorry. I wish…I wish I could explain to you why I pushed you away but Baby,” Carmy paused heart thudding in his chest, the words were there, maybe not in the way one would expect but it was you; you would know what he meant even if he was speaking in another language.

“I uh I can’t even explain it to myself. But..I would like for us to be friends again if you’ll have me?” Carmy sent a tight-lipped smile your way, he couldn’t do it. He felt selfish for even thinking now was the time to propose the initial idea in his mind. Maybe it was an excuse, maybe not, but he didn’t think it would be fair to put you in that position. You had just told him such a harrowing truth about yourself and if his first instinct after hearing such was to ask to be more than friends it would feel insincere. Carmy wasn’t even sure you would want a relationship with him, you were sober, and recovering and Carmy wouldn’t allow himself to mess that up for you with his presence having been such a soul-sucking and negative thing in your life these past few years.

“I think that’s just what I need right now…a friend.” It was silent for a moment between the two of you, Carmy had prepared himself for the worst on the drive over, and although he could feel a lump forming in his throat and the ache in his chest, he forced a small smile on his lips upon hearing your words. “You kept it on there?” His eyes found yours confusion marring both of your features, at his silence your hand reached out delicately tracing the pendant settled against his signature white shirt.

Of all the times you’d seen Carmy you knew he still wore his chain, it was a part of him. You had caught glimpses of the gold peeking out from his shirt, but you would have never thought he wore the pendant you’d impulsively bought before leaving New York. You remember regretting having left the newly added accessory on his chain when you left his apartment, sure it made you seem like some desperate lover who had never even actually been a lover, just some girl too naive to see all the signs she was being given.

Your eyes flicked between Carmy’s waiting for his response, his cheeks tinting pink the longer you looked at him for an answer. The hand that wasn’t settled against your skin reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “I nev-I… uh never leave home without it.” The admission made your skin tingle, Carmy’s finger subconsciously tracing the lone letter you carried everywhere with you. “It uh, reminds me of you…of us.”

“There were forget-me-nots in the bouquet Willie made me,” you sent Carmy a small smile, although temporary, the sight of that bouquet filled you with happiness the short time you did spend with it. “Also I know you didn’t have shit to do with the flowers Willie put in that bouquet.” Carmy let out a small laugh face warming at the memory of old man Willie’s meddling.

Your thumb on the pendant began tracing the engraved letter, “This was like my form of a forget me not, something that was permanent, would never wilt with time…I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.” Carmen watched your lips stretch into a small smile, he knew what your words meant, but after learning about all you’d gone through it felt like your final words had a double meaning like if things had gone as you wished them to, this would be the only piece he had left of you.

A part of you felt shy sharing the reasoning behind gifting Carmy the pendant, the two of you were barely friends as it was and the flowers had been so personal to you, that you weren’t sure you wanted to let Carmy into that piece of your world even though he played a huge part in it without even knowing.

“Is that what they signify? Remembrance?” Carmen’s thumb ran back and forth across the scar on your jaw, tapping it twice to pull your attention to his.

You gave the pendant one last longing look, dropping it before your eyes finally locked on his, “Something like that.” You shrugged having to swallow the urge to confide in Carmen one last time tonight.

The two of you stayed like that with Carmy’s hand holding onto the side of your face, thumb trying to imprint the jaggedness of your scar to its memory. Your eyes became heavier the longer Carmy delicately stroked your face. The man made no move to wake you as you slowly began drifting back into the world of dreams, the same look of peacefulness he saw earlier had easily returned, the ghost of your past so evidently marked into your skin in the shape of your scars. He felt like he was able to finally release the breath he’d been holding in, his eyes skated across your face; a face he always considered to be a work of art, one he could never perfectly capture on paper.

As he watched you sleep Carmen came to terms with exactly what was left between the two of you now. For all intents and purposes the two of you were friends again, or at least on friendly terms, and as much as he tried to convince himself he would be happy to keep you in his life in whatever capacity you allowed; he knew that was a lie. But the only person he could really lay blame on was himself, you had been ready and waiting for him before he even realized he loved you and now that he was finally ready to take that next step with you there was no longer space in your heart for him.

Carmen watched you for a moment longer, thumb lingering against your scar before he finally had enough restraint to pull himself away. There was a part of him that would’ve stayed planted in that spot all night just to watch over you, make sure the moment he turned his back you wouldn’t suddenly disappear never to be gazed upon by him again. He quietly stood up, careful not to make too much noise and wake you, hand grabbing the blanket lying atop the head of your couch before he gently draped it across you.

He lingered in front of you every fiber in his body, willing him to stay there by your side, to be there when you woke up. But moments like that were no longer his to take; they never had been. Carmy let out a sorrowful sigh before he bent down to your level placing a soft kiss full of love and longing to the indentation between your eyebrows. What could have been, what never was would always stick with him but he would set his wants and needs to the side, and he would appreciate having another moment with you still in his life.

The two of you had seemed to come to an understanding now, and that’s all he could ask for. You said you needed a friend and that’s what he’d be; your needs were his needs.

a/n: in honor of turning twenty-three i present thee with the gift of suffering 🤪, anyway not sure how i feel about this chapter but we shall see. also i know it seems like everything between baby and carmy may have been resolved rather quick, but i feel like everything is very not obviously resolved. happy readings! 🤍

also: huge shoutout to @mr-robot-x for her impeccable song recs when it comes to this fic and the losers i write about. asleep by the smith’s heavily inspired this chapter. (which you would all know if you took my song inspo seriously 😐) just kidding but seriously it genuinely helped me get through this chapter! 🤍

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto angst #carmy x you #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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oncomingnight · 8 months

Text

Yandere! Boyfriend

Hello everyone, I'm very sorry for not being able to write for a decent amount of time but I'm finally back at it! I hope you all enjoy this piece and never hesitate in reaching out to me, I love hearing from you ♡.

Kristian grew up on a vast farm in Akureyri, Iceland. As a child, he absolutely adored going out to the shed in order to see the sheep and softly pet their coils of wool. His parents, Johanna and Ada, gifted him a tabby kitten on his sixth birthday to which he treated as his very own baby. Kristian really enjoyed collecting and watching VHSes as that's all he had access to, this lead to his immense love of film and his interest in making his own. He started filming himself as practice when he was just eight years old, resulting in videos his parents would later on show you during your first dinner together.

He adores gifting you homemade baked goods and seeing your reaction once the sweet taste falls on your tongue. You'll wake up to a savory aroma wafting in through the kitchen and find him flipping pancakes before cutting up fresh fruits, standing in just his blue plaid underwear. Kristian is the type of person to have cookbooks surrounding him as he gets ready to cook something up for the both of you, he follows the written recipe with his finger before getting all of the needed ingredients.

When it comes to celebrating certain things, Kristian goes all out. If it's your birthday, he'll order delicious pastries from high end shops like Dominique Ansel Bakery and Boulangerie Poilane. For him, the entire day is paused reserved for you and only you. Not only would he gift you the most precious presents anyone could ever receive, he'll purchase tickets for a month long trip.

The more time he has alone with you, the better.

When the two of you go out together, he brings his camcorder along. There's nothing better he can think of than him having these precious moments between the two of you recorded. He lays in bed late at night and watches back on these videos when you're, surprisingly, not with him.

Kristian is a tremendous fan of romantic music, whether that be old folk songs or modern songs of yearning. He listens to dozens of artists that are mainly known in Europe and that have a somewhat small support group in America. He will come up to you with a record in hand and say, "let's sit, I want you to listen to this."

He enjoys taking you to his hometown in order to show you his favorite areas but also for you to meet his parents. As soon as you enter his childhood home, the oak flooring creaks beneath your feet and the scent of Kjötsupa makes its way into your nostrils.

Johanna and Ada make you feel as if you're their lifelong friend, asking invested questions about your career, how the two of you met and the occasional teasing remark about marriage. Johanna momentarily leaves the table before coming back with a colorful wool sweater made just for you, "It's yours, Dúlla!" She says with a sweet smile spreading on her cherry colored lips.

While you and Kristian are on your way out the door when the night is coming to an end, Ada stops you and hands you a cardboard box with thread wrapped around it. Later, you'd find a box of Omnom chocolate bars along with a knitted bag that is decorated with tiny cartoons inside of the box she'd gifted you.

When Kristian has to make an errand when you're asleep, he always leaves a note on the desk in your shared bedroom. "I'll be back, honey, don't worry. I'm grabbing some coffee for us and a couple of treats from that market you like so much. Catch up on some rest ♡." On the bottom of the letter, you'll see little lovey-dovey stick men doodled onto the paper.

Now, this is the part I know you've all been waiting for.

Not to sound like a marvel movie with what I just said ^.

Growing up on a farm definitely has its perks, including gaining the knowledge of appreciating the land around him. This means he knows exactly how to store and hide seeds into the soil and have something beautiful sprout as a result of that. But, you know what else he knows how to hide in the soil?

Bodies. I'm joking, oh my goodness.

Kristian never wants you to see that aggressive and absolutely vile side of him. You're his sweet baby, you don't need to be subjected to such negativity. He'll release all of his aggression onto the subject of his anger, often resulting in his knuckles swelling and he even broke his hand one tine.

Has he not only beaten people that have bothered you but killed them, even? If you ask, then the answer is no. But everyone knows that's a complete lie. Kristian is a complete master at hiding his 'sins' from not only you but from the public. He'll ask his mother, Johanna, for assistance because who said she didn't do the same thing as him for Ada back in the day?

Maybe it runs in the family.

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

tipsy • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, drunk/tipsy (consexual) sex

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), multiple orgasms (reader), wee bit fingering, banter, unprotected sex and cumming inside, and them just being tipsy drunk and so sickeningly in love 🤢 as always pls lmk if i missed smth

WC: 3.5k

A/N: thank you for your utmost patience @katetattoolover 🥺❤️ I hope this finds you well and you enjoy this, I adore you <3 as this is a request, there isn't a taglist FYI my tagging lovelies 🫡 anyways I think I lost my touch but I hope y'all enjoy this after not posting for a hot second

"What's two minus one?"

"… One?"

"Yeah, you're my number one and the love of my life."

Drying off your face, you sneak a peek at your boyfriend staring intently into the large mirror of your shared bathroom. "Are you flirting… with yourself?"

He gasps, affronted. "No! 'm in a very committed relationship with someone special, thank you very much. Can't you see?"

When his arm waves vigorously to the side, all you can do is stick your tongue out at your own reflection he's gesturing toward. "Yep, that's me!"

"No, you're a figment of my imagination trying to seduce me. Kept staring at me all night, 'm not stupid."

"That's 'cause you're hot."

He was. Seokmin's best look was a white dress shirt and jeans. And the way he kept loosening the buttons as he relaxed further into the evening with more and more glasses of alcohol made him all the tastier. How could you not stare at the man that was all yours?

"You're a demon," your partner continues to grouch and then turns to face the real you with a very, very serious look on his face. He's lucky you're just starting to sober up enough so you won't accidentally burst into laughter, at least cognizant enough of his feelings that were extremely fragile at the moment. "Now this is the real thing."

Brushing back dark wet bangs with your fingers, you can't help but smile when he leans into your touch. "I'm just a thing?"

"No! You're more than a thing… you're… you're…"

You can practically see the gears struggling to turn in his brain. "This is why I told Jeonghan to stop topping off your glass 'cause look at you now, baby, you're so drunk."

"'m not drunk, 'm Seokmin."

"Yes, yes you are."

"And I was excited."

"You were."

"And I'm so so so so proud of you."

You gaze into his shiny brown irises that hold galaxies of love for you. The same ones you kept meeting as they followed you around the room after Joshua pulled you away so the group could congratulate you properly for all of your hard work. Looking at you with so much pride and adoration that you returned, causing your friends to jokingly gag at how in love you both were. The beautiful eyes that crinkle up in a gorgeous eye smile when you've had a long day, gauging your movements with concern to try and provide whatever comfort he can.

Those lovely and familiar orbs now look like they might shed tears at any moment.

You pat his flushed cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I just love you lots."

"I love you too, Seok, so don't cry." You stagger back when he buries his face in your neck, thrown off by the sudden weight because you're still a little tipsy yourself.

"'m not crying."

"Maybe we should go lay down now?"

He nods and releases you from his grasp — thankfully — and you can't help but chuckle at the mixture of water and tears that shine on his skin. After wiping them away, you take his hand in yours and lead him into the bedroom.

"Why don't you seem drunk?"

"'Cause someone kept drinking from my glass."

"I'll beat their ass."

You quirk an eyebrow at him teasingly. "So you'll beat your own? Kinky, didn't know you were into that."

His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he shouts, "That's because!", before clearing his throat and repeating quieter. "That's because 'Han kept filling it up when you weren't looking."

"Yeah, he was a real gremlin tonight, probably had everyone drinking double what they should be while Cheol and Gyu only enabled it by splurging on a crap ton of alcohol."

In the end, no one really meant any malicious harm. They wanted to celebrate with you and Seokmin at your house, bringing over a truckload of food, drinks, and a vast amount of different shit only twelve men plus their partners managed to get their hands on. Still, over half of them had passed out before midnight and it took well until two in the morning for the entire crew to sober up safely and leave a little bit ago.

Even the waters you and Seokmin had been sipping on since didn't alleviate the buzz that still rang in your ears. However, that didn't really matter as you tumble into bed together. It was soon drowned out by muffled giggles and eventual light snores when you both dozed off.

You wake up not much later, feeling extra warm. The covers have all ended up wrapped and tangled around you. Seokmin must be feeling the same, the robe he'd had on earlier discarded on the floor. Shirtless, his bare back facing you is illuminated by the moonlight slipping through the curtains. As if under a spell, you can't help but reach out and trace light circles along his shoulder blades with your nails.

"You up?" he asks and turns to sleepily smile at you when your movements halt, "hi."

"Hey, you."

"I'm hot."

"Yeah, you are."

"No," he pouts, "I'm like super warm."

After placing a hand on his forehead, a frown slightly turns your lips downwards because he is heating up, sweat glistening at his hairline. "Are you feeling okay? Here, let me go get you — "

"Stay," a warm hand grabs at your arm before you can move away, "make it better."

"That's what I'm trying to do, doofus."

"Mhm, but you know how you can help me, right?" Seokmin brings your fingertips to graze along his chest with a lazy grin. "You'll make me feel alright again, yeah baby? Do it for me?"

He's released his grip but your fingers continue to trail downward, snorting as his smirk grows wider. "If you wanted to get sucked off so badly, all you had to do was ask."

"I did tho, didn't I?" His eyelashes flutter when you start to play with the waistband of his boxers. "I was a good boy, right? You always know what I need."

It's a little ironic, really. Although you're simply teasing each other, it's very rare for your boyfriend to give in to his own wants and needs, even during sex. He's a pleaser, a giver, and a dedicated lover. So, it's no surprise to feel an overwhelming ego boost when he's pliant beside you, asking sweetly for your touch with puppy dog eyes no one can resist.

"You're always so good to me," you assure and lean to peck at his lips, minty breaths mingling together. Then you're marking his jaw with kisses that trail down his neck, underneath his pecs, past his abs, and lower and lower until you're sliding off his boxers. "Gonna treat you like you deserve, baby."

His soft "thank you, love" melts into a desperate whine when you finally unclothe him and wrap your hands around his cock. It lies hot and heavy against your palm causing you to instinctively lick your lips, jaw already aching. Meeting his lidded gaze that's simply waiting for your next movement, you can't help but giggle when he raises an eyebrow at the mischievous way you smile before blowing lightly at his hardening length.

"Hey!" Seokmin yelps, hips jerking up in shock, "what was that for?"

"Just cooling you down, babe."

"Don't tease me," he huffs in indignation before lifting his pelvis up on purpose, brushing the head of his cock against your bottom lip. "Please."

When the love of your life begs so sweetly like that, who are you to resist? Licking the smear of precum left behind ignites a hungry spark that glints in your eyes — and you give into what you both want.

Your tongue eagerly laps up the leaking salty excess as your lips wrap around his sizable girth. Alternating between sucking, licking, swirling, and even grazing your teeth carefully along the underside of his cock as you work him deeper and further into your mouth. It's sloppy and pornographically loud. No rhyme or reason with the way your brain is still muddled with the faint buzz of alcohol and sleep, mixed with a lot of good, horny feelings.

Seokmin loves it best that way… if his whimpered praises are anything to go by.

"God, baby, look how gorgeous you are like this. Treat me so well always, love you so much, shit… best thing that ever happened to me."

Head thrown back to display how his Adam's apple bobs when he feels the way your throat constricts around the tip before you pull off slightly. His hips unapologetically take on a mind of their own, gently thrusting back and forth to hear more of those pretty gagging sounds you make for him.

It feels too good and he's afraid he won't be able to stop. Seokmin knows you'll tap his thigh if you need a break but you're as far gone into it as he is. Moaning freely, pussy clenching painfully around nothing, and drooling saliva that leaks all the way down his balls. You don't want him to stop, crazed by how he's using you like his perfect little toy to get off.

But he pulls away all too suddenly — mainly to let you breathe — but before you can reach back out to take him into your mouth again, he's pulling you up by your shoulders. Stealing your breath again but this time with a kiss. Gently soothing your abused mouth with soft licks and pecks, humming in contemplation.

"This what I taste like?"

"Mhm, pretty yummy, huh?"

Your boyfriend thinks it's sexy that you like it but — there's something he obviously enjoys more. "It's alright, I guess… I prefer having you on my tongue instead, though."

You should've known what was coming next but you still squeal in surprise when he's urging you out of your sleep shorts and underwear. Muttering something about "gotta eat this pretty pussy out" before he's commanding you to sit on his face.

You're a little caught off guard by the delay of his pleasure but all you can do is obediently position your thighs around his head, slipping back into the standard mode of operation that Seokmin usually revels in anyways.

One of your hands flies out to support your weight, gripping onto the headboard while the other threads through his bangs because your man might be a little too excited to stick his tongue inside.

"Aw baby," he practically growls, "look at how nice and wet you are from just a little sucking on my dick." The vibrations cause you to shiver and you feel his lips quirk up in a devious smirk at that. "Cute."

His tongue runs along your folds with little kitten licks paired with harsh sucks. He's awfully eager for someone who has eaten you out many times before but that's simply because he's addicted. The groans Seokmin makes put your earlier noises to shame. You might've been embarrassed if your own loud moans weren't drowning him out.

"Fuck, Seok… you're so good at this," you pant and rock your hips, grinding down just a little.

He grunts in approval, appreciation, and acknowledgment. It's more than true. Even when he was new at giving oral, his efforts and features made up for whatever uncertainty he held.

You would continue to suck him off while he ate you out if possible. But the way his nose brushes and nudges against your clit just right as it always does… you've never thought to switch up positions. What a shame, really.

It takes everything in you to lean back. Seokmin is none the wiser, thinking you're only shifting in the heat of the moment for more enjoyment until your hand fumbles for his cock behind you. He jolts at your touch, tapping your thigh. You struggle to lift up, barely any strength thanks to your trembling thighs.

"What're you doing?"

"Wanna jerk you off."

"Yeah?" he snickers, naughty fingers stroking your outer pussy lips to gather up your wetness before slipping inside to replace his tongue for a bit. It's the absolute fear of potentially crushing his windpipe that prevents you from ultimately collapsing (and maybe the strong hand on your hip). "But I wanna feel you wrapped around me and I don't mean your hand."

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you challenge. As if the smirk on his face doesn't exist when you clench tightly around his three fingers at the mere mention of his cock inside you. They curl up to brush against the bundle of nerves that causes you to writhe in pleasure.

Seokmin watches you with a lazy grin. Although love always shines in his eyes, lust is overtaking that wholesome glimmer with a carnality that has you shaking without even reaching a climax yet. He knows this and relishes it.

"What am I doing about it? Hmm, I think I'll have to make sure you cum at least once so you can take my dick properly. Gotta loosen you up, like the loving boyfriend I am." His fingers begin moving at a rapid pace, taking you by surprise. With a squeal, you nearly drop right down on him. "Isn't that right, baby?"

"Ah…. yes!"

He nudges you forward a little bit, satisfied with your response. Pulling his hands away from your body completely, you feel the bundle of nerves snap just as he releases his grip. Your orgasm hits the minute Seokmin's lips meet your lower ones and you both moan in tandem. Loud enough to rival a porn star when he starts sucking like a heathen and laps up the wetness that spills out of your hole with your release.

You clamber off of him — very ungracefully — and flop down on your side, trying to catch your breath. "You're insane."

"You love it."

"Just because you think you're right, doesn't mean you have to say it."

Seokmin grins and licks his fingers clean before they softly cup your cheek. When he turns to face you, his cock slaps lightly against your thigh, reminding you he hasn't cum yet. But he's in no rush, leisurely kissing you before it deepens and you taste each other on both of your tongues.

"I'm always right," he mumbles, tongue brushing across your lips, "because you do taste the best between the two of us."

You slap his arm. "Stop!"

"You didn't deny it so I win."

"Do you want to fuck around and not have sex or would you rather I go to sleep?"

"Now, now," he chastises sweetly and nudges you so your back is pressed tightly against his firm, broad chest. "Be nice, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes. "I can't with you, oh my go — "

But your "Omigod" changes from annoyed to breathless when his large, warm hand fondles your chest while the other teasingly nudges the tip of his cock between your folds.

"What were you saying?" Seokmin mocks in a sickeningly sweet voice but you can only moan in response. "Uh-huh, that's what I thought."

He's tortuously slow. Although, it's not entirely on purpose. He's still too out of it to have the energy to change positions and even as much as he enjoys watching you bounce yourself silly on top of him, he figures you don't have the strength to do so.

But this is somehow even better. You gasp, feeling every single thick, long, big inch of him enter you while pressing hot kisses against the back of your neck.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs once he's bottomed out. The two of you stay still like that, simply reeling in the emotional connection — emotionally and quite literally — wrapped in one another's warmth. "My love."

"I adore you. Sometimes. More often than not."

He chuckles. "Is that so?"

After a while, you're wiggling your hips and signaling to your boyfriend that he can move if he wants to. You're honestly impressed with his control, wondering how long he plans on prolonging his raging boner. Not that you're complaining. You're more than happy to cockwarm him at any time around the clock. But it has to be slightly painful to stay hard for that long.

Seokmin's thrusts aren't rushed but they're by no means set in a smooth, consistent rhythm, betraying his desperation. It might just be the alcohol canceling out any sharp movements and it makes you consider having sex a little bit more often this way. Indulging in an open-mouthed kiss that's equally as relaxed and sensual as his pace, you could almost fall asleep again in the most delicious way.

But of course, Seokmin is having none of that.

"You can give me one more right, baby?"

"Mhm."

His hand leaves your breasts, easily finding your clit. Playing with it languidly, just enough that you're buzzing with anticipation but not enough to tip you over that edge quite yet. Your partner likes to think that he knows your body extremely well by now. And he thinks he enjoys finding out how you respond in this position, pressed against him in such an intimate way.

He loves eye contact, the expressions you make on your pretty face, the way you grip and mark up his back and biceps with your nails. But now, Seokmin can feel how you tremble in his arms, the tiny shift in movements when you unconsciously grind your ass across his abs every time you take his cock deep inside your perfect pussy. Fingers tugging on the tiny hairs on his neck, encouraging him to nibble on the top of your shoulder.

And when — oh, god — when you release the grip on his strands of hair and place your hand over his that's remained stationary the whole time on your hip bone, interlocking your digits together — he thinks he might cum on the spot.

Both his balls and heart are heavy and full of an incredible amount of love for you. He admits it repeatedly in your ear, thrusts turning more into a sloppy, erratic mess as he gives into chasing his high.

"Adore you so much, god, you're everything to me. You know that right?"

You grip the bedsheets with your other hand when you feel yourself start to jostle and slide upwards at his movement. "Love you too. So much, baby."

"Can you cum for me one more time, my pretty love? Soak my dick so I can fill you up nicely?"

"Yeah, I can. I can do it."

Your tongues tangle again, this time with a bit more aggression as you both help each other reach that peak. You reach your second climax first, not as intense as before but enough that you're clenching so tight around Seokmin and dripping down his aching cock as asked that he has no choice but to finally snap and let go.

The sounds he makes are pussy-fluttering, a breathy, drawn out moan directly in your ear followed by a low, satisfied grunt. His hips never falter until every drop is spilled inside, filling you up just as he promised. It's as warm and thick as the alcohol working itself out. You feel drowsy and sated in the best way possible.

Your dedicated, hard working lover must feel the same because he hasn't moved. Of course, he hasn't let go of your hand, body clinging to yours, softening cock still inside you as he sighs in content and nuzzles your neck.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he doesn't let go. "Seok, we need to clean up."

"'m tired."

"Well, Mr. Sleepyhead, we can rest after."

"We already showered, though."

"A cold one will make you feel good." Despite the way Seokmin still feels extremely hot to the touch, little goosebumps prickle along his skin at the mention of a cold shower. You pat his forearm. "I'll help you wash up."

"Okay."

It's a relief he acquiesces, knowing it would be difficult to escape his grip if he decided not to budge. His cheeks are still flushed cutely but you have to snort at the way his skin manages to glow so handsome and perfectly with that after sex, post-orgasmic effect.

"No shower sex," you threaten.

He pouts. "I dunno what you're talking about. 'm literally too tired to even move. Who knows, you might be the one to jump me."

"I would never! Besides you're the one who's always surprising me but either way you're going to have to get up." You roll over and stand, pulling at his arm when he refuses to release his grasp on your hand. "C'mon, babe."

"Alright, alright." He's about to make a comment of how energetic you are until he sees you wince and limp a bit toward the bathroom. You know he knows but choose to ignore his smirk. "Does sex help prevent hangovers?"

"I have no idea but I've heard it's supposed to help with headaches."

"Let me know if you have one tomorrow."

"Seokmin!"

"'m just saying."

"You're gonna fuck me either way. But we're sleeping in, it's already like five in the morning."

"You're right. On both accounts."

You hand him a glass of water with a scowl. "You can be so annoying."

"But you love me."

"Lucky that I honestly really do. Now come here so I can wash your hair."

"Yes, yes right away, love."

onlyseokmins: Novemeber 2022 ©

#ez.creates #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #svthub #kpop smut #kate 🥝#ez.mootz #1k 🌟#svt.smut

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ratedfleur · 3 months

Text

burn it all up.

a series of murders have been planned and accomplished in that very building, only for a group to find out remains of bodies. Now, who will solve these series of mysteries left behind?

zb1 & y/n 8.4k word count genre ୭ mystery

🏷️ : dark content = murders, arson, cursing (and a lot of that), knives, guns, blood, stabbing, corpses, use of morphine & naloxone, y/n is deadass crazy but everyone is crazy in their own ways.

🗒️: as always, likes / reblogs / comments are very appreciated! happy reading! 🗡️

🎼 : the blue danube, Op. 314 (i suggest playing this when you see a 🎼 later :) )

Zero University was an odd school, it was miles away from the city, nearly 3 hours away from the city if you took the train. The students themselves were odd, always drowning in the blood red colored uniform, eyes always had themselves fixated on the new students, finding the new faces odd and nearly disgusting.

You and these 9 men you called friends were people who you chose to bond with after they practically adopted you after you looked like a poor puppy dropped by the dumpster when you were forced to study in Zero University by your narcissistic parents who only cared about themselves.

“Do we really have to go in there?” Yujin whined as they step foot in front of the old shed that was now mysteriously left unlocked after it had been always locked with a huge padlock and chain even years before.

“Aw baby, you scared already?” You teased as he whined once more from beside you, pulling you close to him while Gunwook was scowling behind you and the youngest, bitter that stole his girlfriend away from him.

With Gyuvin and Ricky leading the way, the two opened the old door to the shed only to see nothing but rusty shelves, gardening tools, a few bags of dirt, and a pallet of wood in the far corner.

“Well so much for an adventure.” Jiwoong says as he’s looking around, fumbling with the gardening tools before Gunwook called out to him.

“Woongie hyung, Mattchu hyung, help me with this.” Gunwook said and called out to the two as he stood up straight after trying to lift up the pallet of wood.

The two come at his calling with Jiwoong holding onto one corner of the wood while Matthew was doing the other corner whilst Gunwook was in the middle, lifting up the pallet with the two’s help.

The group went up to them, watching as they put away the pallet to the side before Jiwoong pulled off the old fabric that was lying on the ground– only to reveal a dirt made staircase. “The fuck?” Jiwoong said as he turned his flashlight on from his phone, studying where the dirt staircase led to.

“What the fuck indeed.” You commented before walking right up to them with your flashlight on, heading down confidently to figure out what the staircase of dirt would lead to.

“Noona, wait for me!” Yujin called out to you as you kept descending down the stairs, unbothered by the ants and worms on the dirt. You stopped walking to wait for Yujin who linked his arms into yours while the others followed, you stepped to the side before letting today’s leader lead the way – Ricky and Gyuvin.

“Dude, stop pushing and shoving.” Gyuvin groaned when Ricky was pushing him as they lead the way down the dirt stairs. “That’s why you need to hurry the fuck up, scaredy cat.” Ricky snickered when Gyuvin’s steps started picking up the pace as he led them all down the stairs. Gyuvin’s steps came to a halt when they reached a metal door after what seemed like countless of steps.

“It’s just a door..” Gyuvin says while turning around to face the rest, flashing them in the face with his phone’s flashlight.

“And what do we do with a door, just look at it? Gyubin-ah, you’re so cute.” Ricky cooed as Gyuvin rolled his eyes at him.

The two kept arguing before Jiwoong descended down from where he was, stopping the fight between the two by reaching for the rusty door knob, rattling it a few times before he took a few steps back before abruptly slamming his shoulder on the wooden door, repeating it a few more times before the door staggers, merely releasing dust into the air.

“Wook-ah, give me a hand. Everyone, back up,” Jiwoong says as the younger comes down, Gunwook takes a few steps back like what Jiwoong was doing before they slammed their shoulders on the door, repeating it a few times before the upper part of the door breaks open, making the two take the bottom part by stomping on it.

“Aw look at you two, so cool.” Gyuvin says as he bravely stepped inside what it seemed like an old bunker.

Gyuvin immediately grimaces before he gags, covering his mouth and nose as he lead the way.

The rest quickly follow in, faces scrunching up at the stench as they walked further into the dark bunker. It was dark inside, no light could get into the bunker as they were deep into the ground. The bunker was not fully replenished with what it should have, instead, it was a simple dark room that reeked of something that they couldn’t figure out.

“Should we really be in here? I mean, there’s nothing to see.” Yujin said with you linking your arm around his as the group kept walking further into the huge bunker.

Nobody responded, instead, they kept walking and flashing their flashlights around to see whatever they could amidst the darkness.

The group was filled with banter as they kept walking, not until Matthew called out to the rest who stood behind him. The hand that held up his phone shook, flashlight shaking as he pointed it to the ground.

“What the fuck is that..” Matthew’s voice trembled as he bent down to further look at what he saw lying on the ground.

He could feel his heart thumping against his chest as he came into view with what he saw.

A severed hand.

Matthew gags as he stand up straight, stumbling away from the group as they called out to him. He gags before spitting on the ground before he looks up in horror, only for his flashlight to land on another severed hand.

“Metyu-yah, are you okay?” Jiwoong called out to him, holding up the flashlight to look at a pale Matthew, he holds onto the younger’s shoulders, helping the man stand up on stable feet.

“Hyung, it’s just a petty prop. Pretty cool huh?” Gunwook laughed as he held it up, waving at the rest who chuckled at the man’s antics.

Matthew doesn’t say anything but instead he stays by Jiwoong’s side.

They were joking around, saying how it looked like a realistic prop for a play. “Maybe we could get props for the drama club in here, maybe there’s a dead body too.” Gunwook joked as they kept walking not until they saw a pile of rotting bodies.

The rotting bodies were being swarmed with flies, maggots were squirming around on the bodies’ open wounds, liquids were pooling on the ground they were laying on.

“What the fuck–” Matthew curses before he stumbles out of Jiwoong’s hold, gagging as he covered his mouth after he saw the horrid sight.

“Holy shit, that’s fucking disgusting.” You said as you flashed your flashlight to look at the bodies.

The rest were stunned upon seeing rotting flesh right in front of them, piles and piles of bodies just placed right next to each other. Some were fairly new, barely any rotting to begin with, whilst some were full on rotting with flies and worms moving on the rotten flesh.

“Y-yah, let’s go–” Matthew says before he gags once more, backing away from the group.

“Matthew-yah!” Hanbin called out to Matthew who didn’t turn back when he went up the stairs, gagging as he kept running up. He turns to face the group, “I’ll go after Matthew, you shouldn’t stay down here.” Hanbin says before he left them, chasing after Matthew.

Gyuvin, being the curious one of the group, he creeped up towards one of the bodies, kneeling down beside it with a hand covering his mouth and nose whilst studying the body. He poked at it with a random metal stick on the ground, touching and moving the skin.

He studied it whilst the rest conversed behind him, “This body is new..” he suddenly said before he stood up, facing the rest of them.

“Huh? How did you know that?” Taerae asked him as he tried to look at the body, “It’s not rotting yet, if it was buried down here for a while, it would’ve been rotting like the rest.” Gyuvin answers like he just pointed out the obvious.

“And that’s what you get for watching way too many medical dramas.” Ricky says before Gyuvin lunged at him, poking at his shoulder.

“But that doesn’t answer the question, who killed and brought them here?” Gunwook asks before he shivers at the thought of a killer just roaming around the halls of their very school.

Whilst the group kept conversing about the bodies and how they were possibly killed, Gunwook on the otherhand was spacing out from what he was hearing amidst his friends’ voices.

Help me.. They killed me.. He shot and brought me here.. They are monsters, murderers even.. Please, help us..

The voices said as Gunwook’s eyes roamed around the space before they landed on the poor bodies right beside them. His heart thumped when the voices suddenly screamed, making Gunwook flinch.

“Hyung, you okay?” Yujin asked as he reached for Gunwook’s shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie. The older nodded, making Yujin smile at him.

“Yeah, we should just go.” Gunwook says.

Gyuvin chuckles before he teased the younger, “Why? You afraid already?”

Gunwook rolled his eyes at him and flashed his middle finger at him, making the latter laugh.

“Don’t you want to solve this? I mean, a bunker full of bodies near our school that’s practially miles away from the city..” Taerae commented whilst looking over at the others who looked like they were deep in thought.

You stayed silent, watching as they were actually visibly thinking about what Taerae said.

The school was known for being miles away from the city, the people who founded the school believed that it was better to be far away from distractions. That was the sole reason why the university was far away from the rest, the only place beside it was the school’s dormitory and nothing else. If one wanted to buy something from the establishments like a mall or even dine out, you had to take a train for 3 hours.

“I mean, don’t we have to report this to the police too? There must be at least one near us..” Yujin questioned with his voice decreasing in volume at the end, seeming like he was unsure with his own words.

Gunwook nodded, agreeing with the youngest.

“And then? Risk the potential of us finding out who killed these people? Don’t you want to be awarded for something like that?” Taerae asked the group innocently, looking right at Gunwook and Yujin.

The two youngest eyed each other before Yujin saw how Gunwook visibly shivered once more, “It work hurt, right hyung?” Yujin asked with his doe eyes which has Gunwook actually thinking if he should join this potentially mind boggling mission.

“Wook-ah, we’ll be fine. We’ll just get justice for these losers.” Gyuvin poked the closest one’s shoulder with his foot.

With the others convincing him, Gunwook finally agreed and nodded at them. “Fine, no trouble or else, I’m out.” he says with intent in his words as the rest nodded, “Now help me turn some of them over, we need names.” Hao said before he went over to one of the bodies that were flipped over, face flat on the dirt.

Gunwook walked with heavy steps, still feeling unsure with what they were doing. Nonetheless, he still helped Hao flip the bodies over with a frown on his face. He could feel himself get sick when he saw that one of the bodies had a hollow face, already sunken into the skull.

After that, he stayed a few steps behind them as Taerae and Gyuvin studied the bodies as Gyuvin was well knowledged about bodies since he came from a family of doctors. Gunwook simply listened to Gyuvin tell the group about the injuries and possible deaths these people experienced as Jiwoong assisted him in lifting one of the newer bodies, examining them for injuries.

2 hours later, the group declared that they were all people who came from the school: the old principal, Seokhee who was one of the students who tormented Yujin and a few juniors, Jinyoung who was one of the jocks who practically everyone hated, Hwayoung the queen bee, Chaerin and Haein who were her minions.

And these were people who were announced as people who left school with no question, simply choosing to leave and expel themselves.

“Damn, she deserved that.” Gyuvin commented whilst Jiwoong clicked his tongue, “Have some respect, Gyuvin-ah.” the eldest commented as they were all climbing up the stairs after leaving the bunker after they deemed that they examined the bodies just enough for the day.

They went back into the building after leaving the bunker and the shed, conversing ever so often about what they saw. By the time that night hit, Gunwook was left in bed thinking about all the events that happened that very day.

How could it go from normally going to school, roaming around the university ground before they discover a hidden bunker under the school with dead people in them? Gunwook himself couldn’t answer his own questions, let alone the questions in his head about the voices he heard in the bunker.

Gunwook knew spirits could talk to him, he knew that since he was practically a child who was playing with his toy cars not until a child like voice asked from beside him, “Hi, can I play too?”

Gunwook brushed it off, trying not to think about that day’s events before he went off to dreamland, leaving behind all of the troubles he’ll meet with in the morning.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“He’s just a little gullible guy, huh?” One says.

“It’s all this kid’s doing, praise him.” The other says as he ruffles said person’s hair.

“Now that we’ve begun, don’t fuck up or else I’ll will not hesitate to kill you myself.” One says before leaving the group who murmured at their words.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“I found out more about the university, the school was founded by Lee Jimin. Yes, thee Lim Jimin who was a murderer in South Korea. What the media didn’t release is that all of the murders were done on the very ground that the university stands on. But nearly a decade later, another murder was done by a student named Park, the media didn’t release his full name because apparently the family paid them not to. They said he was going crazy over a student they hid by the name of Y because she didn’t like him back, that’s the sole reason why he killed her here and buried her on the campus grounds.” Hao says to the group once they were huddled together in Jiwoong’s dorm, the biggest dorm of all because he was a senior.

“All because she didn’t like him back? That’s tragic..” Yujin muttered from his seat, the rest nodded.

“Anyway, what else did you find? Did you find any information about those in the bunker?” you asked, swiftly switching the topic before Hao nodded, “Taerae and Gyuvin did.” he says while looking up from the laptop.

“Well I dug around with the school files and Principal Kim, Seokhee, Jinyoung, Hwayoung, Chaerin, and Haein were all marked under voluntary leave which is rather unusual since the school prohibits that even with the staff.” Taerae said as he pulled out his ipad, showing the pdf copies to the group.

“Okay, that’s weird.. Did the papers mark when they left?” Matthew asked.

Taerae shook his head, “They were blank which is unusual too, all records of leaving the premises should be written down if they were permitted to do so which is probably hard to do so.” he adds.

The group is left in question as they were deciphering whether what happened to those very bodies. They then decided that they would be working in pairs to find out more about those people, whilst you, Taerae, and Hao worked together to find out more about the bunker.

“Okay but then if it went over to the left–” “Just get an overview of the school’s grounds with the shed.” “That shit wouldn’t work, Y/N. I tried it earlier.” “Jesus, let me do it.”

Hao broke off you and taerae’s argument before he took over the laptop, pressing in directions before the system scanned the school’s location – and finally, this included the shed.

He smiles triumphantly before he showed you and taerae who were in awe as the screen showed an x-ray version of the building along with whatever is underground. “Okay, but what separates the school and the bunker? There should be something that lies between those two..” you muttered before typing on the laptop, trying to figure out what material separated the two.

Meanwhile the rest were dreading the fact that they couldn’t find anything else about the people other than they just vanished into thin air, no warning or even letters left behind even for their family members.

“So these people are practically nobodies out of the school..” Matthew commented as he sat beside Jiwoong who stayed still, watching each and everyone’s facial expressions.

You hummed, standing up from your seat while pacing back and forth, visibly thinking about what to do next. Gunwook calls out to you, making you look at him once you stopped walking, he ushers you to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around you once you sat.

“Ease your mind, hmm? Let’s think about this together.” he whispers to you, making you nod as you leaned into his embrace. “What about we burn the building down?” You suddenly say, making 9 heads look over to you at a snap.

“What?” “Are you crazy?” “This is absurd!” “Noona, I don’t think that’s a good idea..” and another series of sentences came right at you.

“Okay look. If we burn the building down, people won’t know about the bodies or the bunker. If the staff or students find out that we are the only ones who know about that bunker and whatever is inside that bunker, we’re going to be framed for murder.” You said to them in a calm manner, telling them about your thoughts.

“And arson is a less of a crime?” Hanbin says to you, making you deadpan.

“I hate this building, I hate this school, I hate those who roam in it as if the school isn’t some fucked up organization. Don’t you feel the same?” You asked back, making Hanbin look away from you, ignoring those eyes of yours that knew his answer.

You looked over at the rest who looked away from your questioning eyes, including Gunwook. Sighing, you stood up and slid your boyfriend’s arm off of your shoulder as you went back to pacing back and forth.

Gunwook watched as you paced silently, feeling concerned that you were really into bringing this mystery murder down. He stands up and walks up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders, stopping you from pacing any further.

“Okay, I’m in. Just no dying or killing each other, okay?” Gunwook told you as he comfortably rubbed your shoulders, making you purse your lips together before you saw him smile gently at you.

“Okay, I’m not killing you, no worries.” You chuckle when Gunwook laughs.

“But how do we execute what you’re planning?” Hao asked, making you turn to look at him.

“Well, we do know that the bunker and building is separated by a thin piece of barrier, which if things go wrong up here, it could burn down and crumble, crushing the bodies and hiding whatever happened in the bunker.” Taerae answers for you, making you nod in agreement.

“And the people and staff?” Matthew asks.

“We kill them too, easy.” Jiwoong replies, shrugging as if it was a normal answer.

“I know you hate the people in here too, Metyu-yah.” The eldest adds, knowing that the rest of you fully agree with him because the people in the school are insufferable.

“Okay so that’s settled, we hate this place and the people in it. So how are we going to burn this place down?” Matthew asks everyone, watching as everyone simultaneously pursed their lips together.

Hanbin claps his hands together, catching everyone’s attention. “So I was thinking–” He said as he opened his ipad up, opening the drawing app before he started telling everyone about his plan.

One night later, the plan is complete. Things were settled that to burn the building down, fuel cans would be subtly hid on all floors and at every end of the hallways, heavy duty lighters would be bought, knives and guns would be purchased by Jiwoong, and then it was settled that the plan would be executed on accomplishment day, a day wherein students aren’t allowed to exit the premises because they need to accomplish their school requirements for the year.

“I already bought the fuel, it’s arriving on saturday.” Ricky told the group as he was in charge of purchasing the fuel, meanwhile the group were looking at the school calendar to plan which day they would execute their plan. The current month was already filled with events, except for the 4 days, the completion of requirements.

“Well, the 17th, 20th, 23rd, and 26th are all available.” Hanbin recalls as he was a part of the student council which was an advantage to the group.

You nod before walking over to the calendar plastered on the wall, you looked and browsed over to the dates Hanbin mentioned before you took out the marker in your pocket and encircled 26th.

“26th, that’s final. Let’s burn this shit down.” You say before smirking as you turned around to face them, making the rest cheer.

Dawn on the 26th soon came, everything was all set – fuel cans were installed, security cameras and speakers were hacked, the metal doors were set to lock by the time the clock striked 11:30, the tent with all the devices were set right by the shed just hiding in plain sight, guns and knives were distributed and the plan was set.

A few handful of the staff and students were forming an idea due to the group’s sudden absences especially during attendance in the dorms, a daily routine when everyone is set to stay in the dorms when the clock strikes 7.

With everyone busy accomplishing their requirements, everyone except the group were in the classrooms along with staffs and professors monitoring their moves, though they failed because there were 10 who aren’t in their respective classrooms.

Now seated at the tent with Hanbin and Taerae, you let the 7 formulate their own plans on how to move around the school once the clock strikes 11 with lights shut down to a dim with doors automatically locked to keep everyone in their rooms before the school is burnt down.

“Okay, let’s get things straight. Taerae, Hanbin, and I are staying at the tent to monitor your moves through the system, we’ll assist you if some things happen.” You said through the earpieces, monitoring their body heat through the scanners that’s interconnected through the outdoor camera pointed towards the school.

The group nods, “Meanwhile Jiwoong and Matthew are monitoring the halls along with Gyuvin who’d come along later on.” You add, seeing how they nodded through the heat scanners.

“For now, stay clear from their eyes. We don’t want them to know who is the mastermind behind all this, are we clear?” You said but you heard no reply, you called out to them whilst watching them through the monitor, switching camera views only to have the camera covered by a cloth, one of the tactics since the school might’ve caught onto the group.

Meanwhile Yujin, Gunwook, Hao, Ricky, and Gyuvin were talking amidst each other, temporarily closing their connection from their in-ears because they mistakenly left a window open, letting an administrator peek through the windows, studying their faces before Yujin, being the closest one, shut the curtains.

“Shit, they saw us right?” Yujin asked as he shut the curtains closed, eyes shaking as he turned around to face the rest.

“They–”

Hao wasn’t able to continue what he was saying when suddenly the door knob started rattling, as if someone was in a hurry to open the door and barge right in.

Yujin stood frozen in his spot when suddenly, someone was pounding on the door, asking for help on whoever was inside the room.

“Please! I need help, someone was chasing me with a knife and then–” The voice cried out from behind the door, sounds of desperate crying were heard as the group were quietly eyeing each other, not knowing what to do before suddenly a blood curdling scream interrupted her own words.

They stayed silent not until they heard bubbling right outside the door, seeming like someone was being strangled right outside. What Gunwook didn’t know is that the very person behind the door was Jiwoong and Matthew strangling a girl who got in the way of their purge.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jiwoong mutters as he cuts the girl’s arm, giving her a warning to shut her mouth before Matthew picked her up over his shoulder, letting the blood from her head’s injury drip on the floor as he kept walking towards a room they left vacant as a storage to keep those who got in their way after they severely injured them.

“Now what?” Matthew asked once he dropped the body down on the floor, not listening to her cries.

“We kill.” Jiwoong says as he and Matthew left the room, letting the younger lock up the room with a chain and a series of locks.

The two walked along the halls, eyes digging into those who attempted to leave the classrooms where they were forced to stay in the moment that the sun set. Their eyes were sharp, immediately catching those to attempted to escape, Jiwoong killed by firing his gun whilst Matthew kicked them down onto the ground before cutting them – a mere warning if they attempted to escape once more, to which they did, resulting to dying from another gunshot from Jiwoong’s gun.

Matthew and Jiwoong then separated ways upon Taerae’s message through the in-ears they all have, making sure to communicate with each other for the night to go well.

Jiwoong went out of the building to be with you, Taerae, and Hanbin to monitor everyone’s positions and locations in the building, making sure to precisely tell anyone to go to whatever place they need to be.

“Now hyung, you do know what to do right?” Hanbin asked through the in ears as he was sitting right across Taerae and you who controlled the in-ears while monitoring them through the x-ray system with trackers in their in-ears.

Hao nods as he’s walking through the halls as if people weren’t crying out to him from the locked classroom doors. “Yep, burst the fuel cans up and light it up when i’m in the middle.” He says as he’s fiddling with the lighter, whistling as he’s crazily waving at those who cried in front of the classroom windows.

He was just walking casually not until the in-ears started to release static noises before sounds of calling were heard.

“Wait… Hao hyung.. Hao hyung, get out!” Taerae said through the earpiece, multiple alarmed voices blasting through Hao’s earpiece.

“What? But I haven’t even—“ “Forget the plan, burn the place up when you get out!” Jiwoong now said through his earpiece, making Hao curse as he ran through the halls, hand reaching into his pocket for the lighter.

Multiple voices were panicking in his earpiece, making Hao panic as he kept running through the halls.

“I swear to fucking god, you have got to get out of there!” Ricky cursed in chinese as he himself was running down the staircase, frantically running as he hurriedly tried to escape the building.

“I know— Fuck, just hold on!” Hao replied to Ricky in chinese as he dodged the falling pieces of the crumbling ceilings, he passed by bloody bodies on the ground being burned by the small lit fires, smelling vile as he ran pass them.

“Hyung, turn right into the corner and run down the stairs.” “Copy.” Taerae and Hao conversed as the older hurriedly ran into the corner and down the stairs as instructed, letting out a sound of pain when his skin touches a slither of metal.

“Fuck!” Hao cursed as he held onto his bleeding scratch, steps coming into a halt when he reaches three different hallways down the staircase.

“Taerae-yah, which one? Hurry!” Hao said as he frantically tried to look into the hallways, only for his eyes to land on burning and crumbling ceilings.

Hao reached up to touch his earpiece when he hears nothing, he calls out to them. “Taerae yah? Jiwoong hyung? Ricky! Oh shit!” Hao cursed once more when a piece of the ceiling dropped behind him, making him stumble a few steps before he randomly chose a hallway.

Hao kept running through what it seemed like an endless hallway, finally reaching a exit that the group isn’t aware about. He had no choice but to exit this way, already knowing what his fate would be if he went back and tried to exit through their planned exit.

Hao stumbled right outside, falling onto the pavement as another piece fell behind him. His hands were scratched up as he tried to get on his feet, only for him to sit down as he watched pieces of the building crumble to the ground.

“Ricky? Ricky, fucking answer me! Where are you!” Hao’s hands trembled as he pressed onto his earpiece, only to hear a series of static sounds before multiple voices cracking up were heard.

“Gunwook— Yujin ah? Yujin-ah? Yujin, where’s Ricky!” hao screamed when he got a stable signal, only to hear uneven breathing.

“H-hyung, he’s still inside. I c-couldn’t!” The youngest cried into the earpiece whilst Gunwook’s faint voice was heard, comforting the youngest.

“We couldn't get to him, he was way too deep into the fire.” Gunwook spoke into the earpiece, making Hao curse in frustration as he angrily cursed into the wind.

“i’m going back in—“ Hao says.

“Hao, don’t even try to!” Hanbin says to him, sounds of typing heard.

“I’m getting Ricky whether you like it or not.” Hao says firmly as he stood up, running back into the burning building.

“Hao no!” was the last thing he heard.

“No, what the fuck hyung!” Hanbin frustratedly said before standing up, taking the headset off before running off, not listening to you, Taerae, or Jiwoong calling out to him.

“We can’t just let him go, Oppa..” You said before standing up, slipping off your headset, meanwhile Taerae and Jiwoong looked at you with a hesitant look on their faces.

“Okay fine.” Taerae sighed as he slipped his own headset off, running off with you and Jiwoong to run after Hanbin who ran straight into the burning building without looking back.

Hanbin desperately ran and called out to Hao, looking for the older who was looking for Ricky in the dark halls that were soon going to be swallowed up by the flames.

“Hao hyung! Fuck, where are you!” Hanbin called out to him, running into the flames despite some of his clothing getting caught in them.

Gunwook, now alone after Yujin said he’d look after Ricky too before he went on his own ways. Gunwook then walked towards a different hallway, looking around with his flashlight in hand, calling out to Ricky ever so often.

He runs into a few people, all bloody from their stabs. The people desperately went up to him, touching his hands as they asked him for help. Gunwook touches their shoulders to keep them off of him, pushing them away before he spoke to them.

“Run into that corridor, you’ll find help.” He says while pointing them at that direction whilst they ran, running towards their deaths when they reached a dead end with flames.

He continues walking straight ahead of him, still calling out to Ricky.

Gunwook turns into a corner, strides getting slower because of the unstable floors that looked like it was going to fall underneath him. He kept walking, not until he could hear voices from afar.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be in here.” He said, looking around for bodies who’s voices they belonged to. Seeing nothing, he kept walking ahead of him not until he saw a group of people standing in the middle of the hallway with clown masks on.

He stood still for a moment, hiding behind a pillar as he listened to them speak. Gunwook couldn’t recognize these voices, these people had voice changers in them, making Gunwook think that the killers are in the building – something they didn’t expect to happen or plan about.

Gunwook quickly touches his ear piece, “People are here in the hallway, they’re wearing masks with like voice changers in them. Guys? Taerae? Y/n?” he says before standing flat against the wall with his back placed against it.

He listens a few more times before he creeps in closer before he stood right in the middle, clutching his gun and knife in its straps against his body.

Gunwook could tell the group were arguing, practically screaming at each other, nearly ripping each other’s heads off if they could.

“You should back the fuck off before I get my hands on you, I swear to god! I will fucking kill you, we nearly lost him because of your fucking stupidity!”

“For your fucking information, it was his fault we nearly fucked up!”

🎼

“No! You fucked this up, Ricky-yah!” Gyuvin said to Ricky who looked at him with sharp eyes.

“I didn’t do shit, Gyuvin. I was supposed to run and kill them not until the fucking building started crumbling down–” Ricky defended himself before Matthew cut him off. “Yeah and then it all went bloody wrong because someone put the fuel and set fire at the wrong floor.” Matthew says before he looked over at a guilty Hanbin.

“In my defense, everything was going wrong the moment Hao decided to run back in–” Hanbin defended himself before you stopped them from arguing even more.

“Everyone shut the fuck up! You all fucked this shit up, you were supposed to follow the plan just until we corner Gunwook to burn down–” You said before you heard a sound behind you, immediately whipping your head only to meet eyes with Gunwook.

His eyes were confused, trying to decipher who you were. He stayed silent as he was looking over at you before they shifted to look behind you, looking at the other guys.

You turned your head to look back at the group, cursing them through your eyes. Through their own clown masks, you could easily tell how their eyes avoided your piercing ones. Turning around swiftly, you faced the very love of your life – or rather the very bane of your existence.

“Hello, my love.” You smiled through the mask, hands fiddling with the knife you had that was dripping with blood.

You could see how his eyes were visibly confused, eyes shifting from every pair of eyes that he could slowly recognize through the silicone clown masks.

Then reality struck him, Gunwook was being fooled by everyone else, including you, his girlfriend.

“Baby wait no.. Y/N, you were the killer all along?” Gunwook asked as he stood right in front of you, hands all red from all of the bloody bodies that he touched as they begged him for help.

“Why baby? Is there something wrong? I’m just like you are, Gunwook. Or rather, you are just like your older brother. ” You smiled at him as the 10 of you all stood in a burning hallway before a group of students ran frantically past you all, screaming and crying as they hurriedly ran towards the exits.

“In fact, we are all the same. Brutal murderers who are hiding in plain sight.” Jiwoong said as he stood right next to you.

“W-wait.. My brother? What did Gunhoo hyung do with me and these killings?” Gunwook cluelessly asked as he flinched when he saw someone stumble right beside him, all bloody as she crawled on the ground, heading towards the exit.

“Your fucking brother killed my sister right here just because she didn’t like him back!” You spat angrily at him with fury burning in your eyes just like the fires in the building.

“And you are going to fucking pay for that.” You said as you handed Gunwook a sparkwheel lighter forcefully, shoving it in his hand. Gunwook twisted and turned the lighter in his hand as he looked at it, still unsure about what he was going to do.

“Do not, under any circumstance, try to run away from me, Gunwook-ah. I will not hesitate to kill you with my own hands just like how your brother killed my sister.” You warned him as you came close to him, a glint of anger flashing in your eyes as you showed him the bloody knife, blade shining on the blinking ceiling lights.

Gunwook nodded with a shake in his eyes, hand enveloping the lighter as he let you led the way out of the burning school. You walked confidently right in front of him as the rest of the boys walked behind him, practically guarding Gunwook from running away.

“What happened to your sister?” Gunwook quietly asked from behind you, making you turn your head to look at him before chuckling, “It started when your brother chased after her desperately, trying to get her on a date. Things were normal not until he went crazy, killing her in that fucking bunker.” you spat.

“Why can’t you love me back?” Gunhoo questioned your sister as she lied flat on the ground as Gunhoo kneeled above her body, keeping her down.

She whimpers when he takes out a knife, the blade shines under the white light of the bunker he took her to. She visibly shakes when Gunhoo presses the knife’s blade against her neck, just pressing right at her skin.

“I just wanted poor you to love me but then you didn’t do what you’re supposed to. I’m assuming you wouldn’t want me to put an end to your agony, huh?” He questioned once more before he took the knife away from her neck, throwing it on the dirt beside him.

“Just one vile of this and I’ll let you die a sweet and short one.” Gunhoo smiles with a glint in his eyes as he waves the vial of morphine right in front of her eyes.

“All i wanted was for you to love me, that was it.” He says whilst taking the cap off of the syringe before he flicked his middle finger against it, taking the bubbles out of the syringe before he slipped the needle into her skin, making her whimper against the fabric in her mouth, she wails loudly when Gunhoo takes it out of her, throwing it aside just like his knife.

“P-please.. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to leave my sister– a-alone..” She choked on her own saliva as she cried.

“Oh no baby, you won’t die just yet. Just 9 more minutes before you succumb to your death.” Gunhoo smiles before he sat himself down beside her, watching as she cried and sobbed, begging for him to stop and let her live instead.

Just a few minutes later, she was convulsing on the ground as she seizured right beside Gunhoo who simply watched as the love of his life took her last few breaths before he left the bunker, leaving her to rot before he lived his life – living freely before he got caught after a year.

“I didn’t know, I swear. If I knew then–” Gunwook said before he flinched at you abruptly pushing the exit wide open, doors slamming against the wall.

“Then what, Gunwook? Would you have brought my sister to life? No, so shut the fuck up.” You told him coldly before you walked right out of the building with the rest following suit, leaving Gunwook slightly behind them before he followed, steps hesitant as he could smell wood burning.

Walking right out of the building, you and the rest took your masks off, face tainted with blood and cuts from those who struggled in your hands as they mercilessly died.

“Since the fuckers fucked the plan up, we’ll go straight for the end. Gunwook, burn this shit down. Burn everything down that includes all of the pain my sister went through because of your dumb fuck of a brother.” You said with a stoic look on your face as you stared right in front of you, staring at the school building, watching as flames ate up the inside as screams and smoke came out from the opened windows.

You watched cruelly as you caught sight of a student staring directly at you, desperately calling and asking you for help.

Gunwook gulps when Matthew bumps his shoulder with his, “Hurry or else, you’re going to die along with them.” the older says before he sits himself by Gunwook’s feet who stayed frozen on the grass.

Jiwoong on the otherhand was watching Gunwook hesitate and fumble around with the lighter, looking back and forth from you and the school. “Y/n, I can’t– please.” Gunwook called out to you, making your head whip back to look at him with your furious eyes.

“Do it or else I’m bringing you into the building myself before burning it down.” You say while you walked towards him, pulling onto his collar as he resisted. “Fine fine, fuck! I’ll do it!” Gunwook exclaimed before you let go of his collar, pushing him a few steps towards the building.

Gunwook shakily held up the lighter in his hand before he walked a few steps towards the building’s entrance that you left open, not until he suddenly backtracked and sighed as he faced you.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t..” Gunwook’s voice quivered as he spoke, making you scream in frustration as you kept rambling and cursing at him. “One. Fucking. Job. Gunwook-ah, you just need to fucking burn this shit down! Fuck! I could kill you myself, Park Gunwook!” You cursed and screamed at him, looking like a maniac with blood staining your skin.

His eyes shook as he looked at you, throwing the lighter down at the ground which causes you to become even more furious. He watches as you screamed once more before abruptly grabbing something in your pocket before you threw something at the ground. You turn your head slightly to meet eyes with Jiwoong and Matthew before they walked right up to Gunwook, grabbing the younger by his shoulders, forcing him to lie on his back on the ground.

“W-wait, I’ll do it! Fuck– I told you I’ll do it! I’ll burn it down!” Gunwook struggled in the two older men’s hold as he was forcefully put on the ground whilst you walked up to him with a full syringe in hand.

You shook your head at him, getting on your knees as you crawled your way on top of Gunwook’s torso. Clicking your tongue, Jiwoong held down Gunwook’s arm flat on the ground before you leaned down with a smile as you looked at Gunwook who kept trashing around.

“Decide and I won’t kill you.” You said as you forcefully pulled up Gunwook’s sleeve before pressing the syringe into his arm, making Gunwook groan and trash around despite having a needle in him that put morphine in his system.

“Y/N.” Hao warned you, making you whip your head to look back at the older with furious eyes.

“Don’t start.” his eyes say to you, making you roll your eyes before you turned to face Gunwook who kept thrashing underneath you, Jiwoong, and Matthew.

“So? Have you decided?” You tutted as an evil smile was forming on your face as Gunwook kept thrashing around, making him nod as you asked him a question.

“Yes! I’ll– I’ll help you!” Gunwook shouted before you smiled, “Good boy. Hao oppa, naloxone please.” You said before a little bottle and a sterile syringe was handed over to you, precisely getting the exact amount to kill the morphine in Gunwook’s body.

You get off of Gunwook, letting the two men let go of him whilst he was catching his breath, eyes filled with whatever emotion he was feeling. You honestly couldn’t tell, all you could think off was how badly you wanted this damn of a school to burn down along with your sister’s horrid memories.

Paying no mind to Gunwook who hurriedly sat up, getting up on shaky legs as he looked for the lighter you gave him a few moments prior that he threw down on the ground. His hand is shaky when he fumbles around with it, thumb flicking the cap open before watching the flame light up before shutting the cap.

Keeping your eyes on Gunwook, you signal Jiwoong and Matthew to stay guard behind him, ready to tackle him down if he doesn’t do his job well. You kept the idea in your mind that if Gunwook doesn’t burn the school down, you’re injecting him with morphine before throwing him into the pits of fire, letting him die a tragic one.

Jiwoong and Matthew stay guard, knives in hand to slit Gunwook’s skin if he backs out. Meanwhile the group were watching everything unveil – the school slowly burning and crumbling from the inside and out, you having your eyes fixated on Gunwook and him only, and Jiwoong and Matthew behind him.

Gunwook walks up to the entrance with his shaky steps, he stays a few steps back from the entrance of podium before he flicks the lighter open, watching the flame quiver and shake in the air before he took a deep breath and a few steps back before he threw the lighter onto the fuel can by the entrance door before it exploded, making him flinch as he stumbled onto the ground, crawling backwards as the school started to fully burn up.

“See? It wasn’t so bad.” You smiled as you watched the outer side of the building get eaten up by the flames, the screams and cries getting louder as the fire led to the inside. You crazily played The Blue Danube through the school’s speakers where they play the morning announcements, you smiled as you sat down on the grass, watching as the higher parts of the building started crumbling down, crushing the two floors underneath it.

With the flame eating the building up, the red and orange colors illuminated the night, flames coming out through the windows, shards exploding on the ground.

With the smile etched on your face, Gunwook no longer recognized you from the woman he loved, you turned crazy within a span of minutes. He watched as you watched and laughed as parts of the building started crumbling down to the ground, screams and cries dying down from the inside of the building.

Meanwhile the rest were now staying a few steps back from you and Gunwook, eyes fixated on the building. For once, they felt triumphant in their lives as the place they hated most died right in front of them.

Jiwoong and Matthew were standing alongside each other, smiling at the other when they meet eyes. Hanbin, Hao, and Yujin were standing in a line as they had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Ricky and Gyuvin triumphantly laughed and celebrated when the building now crumbled down, only having the lower half before it fell and covered the bunker up. Meanwhile Taerae simply had his eyes fixated on the building with no emotions present on his face.

You looked back at the group, smiling at them when they looked down at you.

“So? Now what?” Taerae suddenly spoke, making you look over at him before you got on your feet, facing them.

Meeting eyes with gunwook, he looked at you like you were a stranger, just how you liked it. He had a frown on his face as he stared at you, not liking how you looked to him.

“Come with us and I will spare your life.” You told Gunwook with your mask in hand, handing it over to him as if it was an invitation. He looked at you bitterly before his eyes shifted down to your bloodied hand and mask.

“And if I don’t?” He asks.

“We’ll force you to or you can choose to die, your pick.” Taerae comments from behind Gunwook, making the younger briefly turn his head to look at him before looking back at you who still had the mask out for him to take.

“What will I get in return–” “Jesus fucking christ, you get your life!” You exclaim, dropping the mask on the ground after you got frustrated with his antics.

“Do you really want to die because I could kill you—” You said, stomping right over to Gunwook before you held his collar tightly before Jiwoong went over and pulled you off of Gunwook. “I’m going to fucking kill you instead, get it together.” The eldest said to you as you struggled in his hold, trashing around and screaming at him to let you go.

Gunwook watched as you cursed and trashed around, trying to get Jiwoong to let go of you. “Fuck, let go of me! I’m not going to kill him!” You screamed and scratched Jiwoong’s arm that he had wrapped around you, making him wince as he let go of you.

“If I can’t kill him, I’ll kill you instead.” You told Jiwoong as you took your knife out of its casing on your thigh, taking it out and pointing it at Jiwoong who deadpanned at you before putting his hands up, surrendering.

“Don’t, I’ll join you..” Gunwook suddenly commented, making you turn to face him with the knife still in hand. You smiled crazily while walking over to him, twisting and turning the knife in your hand.

“Then welcome to hell, my love.” You say and smile at Gunwook.

#mikha's works.#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 zhanghao #zb1 hanbin #zb1 matthew #zb1 taerae #zb1 ricky #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 gunwook #zb1 yujin #murder mystery #kpop imagines #kpop smau

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yanmaresu · 9 months

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Can I ask sirens or mermaids come in packs or groups what if siren!Yuu decides on welcoming her siren side and join a pack or group of siren and feels safe as her pack is ranked 1# most powerful siren group/pack the group has a strong reputation and strong power to protect each other especially weak and fragile pack/group mate so there is a chance they that siren!Yuu will be protected and they have a little cottage in the human world!! Where they can hang out and chill in the sea that is where they sing like I know this is too oof I just want fluff for siren! Yuu ok ;-; because that baby needs some friends that can protect her their theme song is definitely "Birth of Venus"!!! It's too much but make fluff for here for a bit please🙏🥹🥹

ok first of all thanks for the song it's very good, it's now part of my family's playlist.

Second! The mc is actually half siren jsjs I'm not sure if I posted it before but the tragedy of the mermaid mc was that they were left behind by their bank for being too weak compared to all their siblings who were full sirens, mc also got hurt in a hunt and that's when their bank decided they didn't want the little one dragging them down. Mc was abandoned and had to survive on their own for a long time. That's why they fell for Leona and let themselves get caught in a net, because they admired the way the pirate ship worked together and there was no distinction between the stronger humans and those who may have been considered weak because they lacked a leg or hand. Something that would definitively get you kicked out of your bank in the sea, was seen as normal on the ship. The leader even lacked an eye and still looked so sure and fierce while commanding everyone. The mc admired Leona and wanted to be part of something desperately, they thought maybe those humans were different, those humans may accept a boney and afraid thing and not abandon it. We know how that ended.

But for the fluff, I didn't write it nor draw it but sometimes I think about it in the middle of the day. The mc is supposed to have a very happy stay with the Pomefiore trio! Leona's ship gets arrested after a very bad storm that weakened them, and most of their stuff was confiscated or sold in the black market, including the mermaid mc. Here's where most of the timelines divide, but in the pomefiore one, Rook buys the mc at an auction and takes them back home to Vil, who's working hard to finally surpass Neige in the theatre/opera house. Rook suggests that a mermaid might be the perfect singing teacher for Vil, and Vil while not convinced feels pity for the traumatized person brought to her who is too afraid to go back to the sea, and decides that as long as mc helps her get better at singing, teaches them that charm able to captivate everyone, she will provide them with a roof over their heads and three warm meals every day.

The mc eats their first warm meal when dining with the pomefiore trio, it was so tasty that it made the mermaid shed tears. They never thought it would become a normal thing for them with time, that they would learn to cook it, nor the effect it would have on their body. When they see the first belly roll form on their body while bending the sight makes them feel so weird but also so grateful. The mc discovers what a book is, and they hate reading but are fascinated with watching pictures of different animals and biomes on land, they are particularly fascinated with ants and bugs. They feel pride for the first time, not only for themselves but also for Vil whenever she perfects any singing lesson. The mermaid mc starts dreaming of being able to walk and bake every day to give people a warm treat, and sharing what they have with Vil, Rook, Epel, and those who don't have a family.

The problem is that the mc fears soon they will no longer have anything to teach Vil, and fear returning to the sea + Neige isn't happy about mc's involvement in Vil's life + Azul is looking for MC in land </3

#ask #tamaresurambling #mermaid mc au #twst mermaid au #twst mermaid mc au

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saturnianprincess · 1 year

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[𝐩𝐚𝐜] 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

💗𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧💗

This is the first section of a collaborative reading on what does 2023 have in store for you. Please do read the other two parts linked below.

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @starb0t 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @lueurais

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞: 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐲.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

The people who choose this pile have recently undergone a challenging phase in their life mostly emotional purging. You have shed your old limiting beliefs or people who don’t align with you anymore. You are enlightening yourself and your loved ones by broadening your horizons and knowledge. You have left those who are bounding you and hindering you from being your authentic self. I see a period of recovery and self healing. Maybe some of you had a bad break up or ending of a close relationship. A restoration of balance in your energy is what is happening for you this year. You are in full control of your life’s wheel. You know where you are headed and what you must to do to keep yourself on that path. I see spending time with your family or people who are like your family/close friends. A strong theme of reconnecting and strengthening your relationships. Some of you may find a new group of friends/community or even a partner. You are recharging yourself so that you can be fully present in your relationships, activities and life.

extra messages: girl/boy nextdoor, green landscapes, home-cooked meals, 444, shavasna yoga pose

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

I see someone entering your life in next few months. This person is definitely a soulmate or belongs to your soul tribe. They are very successful in their careers and have a lot of established wealth. They could also work in finance or business related fields. You could even meet them at work. Some people here could also end up in a business partnership with this person as well. A romantic individual at heart who will cherish you and your relationship with them. You will feel blissful with them. A few of you could even get married to this person quite quickly in your relationship. Alternatively, im picking up on a lot of stability and grounding from this person. You will learn a lot about yourself through this relationship. Your person will not ditch when it gets challenging instead they will strengthen their support to you. They could possibly have a lot of earth (Virgo, Taurus or Capricorn) placements in their chart.

extra messages: financial freedom, baby sprouts, love candy, 1010, 2222, beige blazers, office romance

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

Trusting people has always been a traumatic task for this group. I feel like some of you could have strong water sign placements specifically pisces or cancer venus. You are the type to fully trust the other person where you completely end up sacrificing yourself only to find out that they are backstabbing people. I know you are tired of hearing “establish better boundaries” and “don't look at them with rose colored glasses”. But it is so comforting to do exactly the opposite isn't it? Anyways you are headed on the path where you will eventually get your dreamy, safe and secure relationship but the universe is keen on testing you before this happens. You have the capability to see the person and acknowledge who and what they are. You are now well aware of what it is you seek from your romantic/platonic relationships. This year will be your final exam before you get your desired result. Stay put, you got this! Your person is waiting for you at the finish line.

extra messages: 100%, coffee, hand made ceramics, Neptune and Venus aspects, 1211, 555, life changes

< star’s mlist > < pearl’s mlist >

Pictures from Pinterest • Read my note

#astro community #tarot community #pari writes🍄#collaboration #pac reading #tarot pac #tarot #pick a card #tarotcommunity #tarotoftheday #love reading #2023 pac reading

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eddiemania · 2 years

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OMGGGGG CHAPTER 2 OF BABYSITTER PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Babysitter (part two)

Part one of “Babysitter„

Description: As your mother's punishment for returning home late that night, you had to work for at least two more weeks. Your body froze when you learned that you had gotten hired to look after your ex-boyfriend's baby sister, but little did you know that Eddie planned to give you a small shift visit (in your exe's bedroom)

Warnings: Unprotected sex, p in v, grinding, blowjob, hair pulling, switch Eddie.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Carver, that won't be a problem," you faked a smile while looking at your mother's death glare. You could swear she was about to snap any minute now, but you tried to be calm and apologetic.

Your ex's mother booking a babysitting appointment with you was certainly something you did not expect and you couldn't understand whether it was because of her trust in you to look after Maya, her youngest, or because Jason wanted to make your life more of a living hell than it already was.

After hanging up, you sighed, your gaze slowly raising to meet the woman's eyes in front of you, "9:00pm to 12:30am, twenty an hour," you tried as much as possible to hide the slight excitement you felt the moment Mrs. Carver announced your payment.

"You were rude, y/n. You should have asked her to lower the budget!" your mother rubbed her eyelids after shooting a glare at you, "I tried but she kept insisting!" you defended yourself, finally able to sit back down on your bed.

"You don't get to keep all that money," your mother argued, following behind you. Your eyes widened, eyebrows connected with confusion. "What? Why?" you questioned as you observed anger flowing through her eyes. "Are you joking? You are punished. Pu-ni-shed." she raised her voice.

"You came home at two in the goddamn morning!" the woman shouted, pacing around the wooden floor of your room, "I told you I fell-" you immediately tried to speak but she cut you off, "Oh so you expect me to believe that?! That you 'fell asleep while working?" she let out in a sarcastic tone, scoffing loudly.

You groaned, giving her a confused look, "Why would I lie to you?!" you raised your hands in the air, "I don't know y/n! That's what I am asking you myself!" your mother groaned before rushing outside your room, with much force closing your door shut.

You heard her intense footsteps walking away before a shout followed, "If you're late this time, forget your friends!"

You rolled your eyes. As if you cared. The only real company you got to have this Summer was your neighbor Bonnie's dog and some of the babies you got to have multiple appointments with.

Truth was that your friend group wasn't dead during summertime. A lot of parties had been held at which you had been invited, multiple times, but ever since you dumped Jason Carver, the entire group looked at you differently.

Maybe deep down they still liked you, some of them at least. You were always kind and polite to them, but some others loathed you, calling you ungrateful and picky as if they were the ones sleeping with him (not that this wasn't their only wish)

And as much as you wanted to worry about the awkward encounter that was about to follow that same evening, having to face both your ex and his entire family, stay in his literal house, your thoughts wandered elsewhere...

His kisses, his fingers, and his tattoos were everything that made you feel the need to squeeze your thighs together at random times that day.

You hadn't seen or heard from Eddie for a week. You specifically asked him to not even dare call your house's telephone. The last thing you wanted was for your mother to find out about how your night involved.

She obviously suspected the likely scenario of what could have held you back that two full hours, but since nothing was confirmed, your subconsciousness was clear.

"y/n,"

You let out a sigh, glancing at the door you had not realized was once again open. Your mother held out a plate that contained a cake, the same one Jason always enjoyed eating whenever he came over.

"What even is this?" you rhetorically questioned the woman as you rolled your eyes, "Is it bad that I want you to bring them something? It's been a while since I had the pleasure of speaking to that sweet boy or his family," she responded, feeling the messages she was sending you behind that sentence.

"I told you me and Jason are over," you repeated for the tenth time this month, a sentence that made her scoff, "Teenagers really don't know what they want," her words made you stand up, grabbing the cake before leaving it on your desk, "I'm actually an adult now," you raised your eyebrows, "Then act like it,"

☾

At 8:55pm you were already standing outside the infamous Carver residence after approximately two months. The plate in your left hand slightly shook as your free one rang the mansion's bell.

A few minutes of you waiting passed before the familiar female figure opened the detail-carved wooden door for you, greeting you with a warm smile on her lips, "Hello sweety!" Jason's mother beamed, gesturing you inside.

"Mrs. Carver, this is for you," you let out a slightly awkward laugh before handing her the cake, her face expressing surprise and admiration towards your mother's action.

"You grew so much since the last time I saw you! What a gorgeous lady my goodness," she placed her hands on her cheeks, making you widely beam, "Thank you so much!"

"Hey y/n" you pressed your eyes together before internally groaning, pulling yourself together in order to turn around and look at his face.

He looked exactly the same ever since schools closed: cock-ish "role model boyfriend" grin, perfectly styled blonde hair, a polo t-shirt, and a pair of white pants.

"Hey Jason," you forced a smile, knowing he would soon leave you alone. Was the thought of staying in his house unpleasant? Yes. Was the thought of staying in his house (a freaking mansion) also entertainingly good? Double yes.

"You better take care of that little demon," he tried to crack a joke to which you did not react, causing his mother to get between you two, "So y/n; Jason and we will go out for dinner. We expect to be back by twelve, but I hope you can understand why I had to add that extra thirty minutes in case we're late or caught up," she explained.

"Despite the time we return, you're gonna get paid for that thirty minutes nonetheless!" the woman shook her hands, making you react instantly, "No you seriously don't need to do that!" you spoke but she softly chuckled, "Oh come on now, sweetheart! Look..."

After taking a sip from her water bottle the blonde looked at you, "Why don't you go wait with Jacy upstairs while I wait for my husband?"

No. No way in hell you would let this happ-

"That's a good idea," Jason plastered that annoying grin all over his face before beginning to step towards the stairs, turning around only when he realized you didn't run after his ass, "Are you coming or...?"

Despite the choices you genuinely wanted to make, there you were, sitting on his bed while glancing at the wall in front of you awkwardly.

If you could choose between ripping your skin out or remaining in that situation, your dermatologist would actually have the pleasure to hear from you very soon.

One thing you did actually notice that was quite entertaining was the fact that he still had the pictures where you two were together hung on the wall.

"So, how have you been?" he broke the silence, the moment your gaze traveled towards him. "Pretty good, how about you?" you questioned, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt.

He beamed before shrugging his shoulders, "I could be better you know," his face approached yours, making you slightly flinch back, "Right," you raised your brows.

"I still don't get it, by the way," the boy groaned, standing up off his bed in order to look at you directly, "What the hell did I do wrong?" he wasn't even mad, it sounded almost like he was offended, "People don't always feel the same chemistry Jason, it doesn't mean you did something wrong," you sighed, really needing to get out of this situation.

"Still. I was perfect to you and you still dumped me like fucking garbage," the blonde raised his voice, making you rub your temples, "Can you just stop-"

His door opened, both your heads turning to look at his father standing against the frame, "Hey kiddos, sorry to interrupt, I knocked but you didn't listen," he explained, his eyes finally following Jason, "You coming?"

He immediately grabbed his basketball team's jacket, placing it over his shoulder before rushing out of the room, leaving you alone with his father.

"You know Maya. If you need anything don't hesitate to call," the male said as you nodded in response, getting off his son's bed, "Have fun," you beamed before he returned it.

Handling Maya wasn't as easy as you expected. Even if she was, or at least used to be a calm child, feeding her was one hell of a ride.

You had been trying to make her shallow her baby cream for over fifteen minutes now, with no result at all. The only thing your "solutions" ended up causing was the girl to throw up all over your top.

You groaned as you stood over the sink, maniacally attempting to get the blouse clean by scrubbing it with dish soap and water, "You little shit," you breathed rapidly, quickly switching between the washing and feeding.

"Bad," the baby mumbled, trying to push your hand away right before it reached her mouth, "Maya, I'm literally begging you, sweety, please!" you were on the verge of tears, about to give up when a loud noise made you jump off your seat.

You looked around, trying to locate the ringing before realizing it came from the living room.

You carefully raised Maya off her seat, taking her into your arms as you walked towards the phone on the wall, which had been ringing for almost a minute now.

"Hello?"

"Do I have to set up an entire master plan to see your pretty face?" your eyes widened, glancing around the room rapidly before your brain signaled your mouth to finally speak.

"Are you crazy?!" you whisper-yelled, making the boy on the other line chuckle, "Are you alone?" his voice was low and playful. You slightly bit your lower lip, trying to sound calm. "Yes, and I'm working. How did you even know I was here?" you asked him as you bounced slightly, trying to calm down the child in your arms.

"Oh well, you know..." you could see the grin he had on his face, "Mr. Munson wanted to reschedule since he was so pleased by your services, Mrs. y/l/n,"

You couldn't help but smile, trying to respond without him catching your guard down, "And?" you asked, "And I was told the number I should dial to contact you. I'm outside, open the door,"

You almost choked at the boy's words, your eyes quickly shifting around at the windows, "I can't do that Eddie! I'm literally working," you argued, "Don't you want an extra hand?" God, you wished you could slap his face right there and then.

"Wait right there."

You hang up, quickly placing Maya back at her food seat. You rushed to the mirror, fixing your hair as a knot began developing in your stomach.

Letting him wasn't right, and you knew very well that it could cause you huge trouble, but the other side of your brain begged you to walk towards that door and open it and soon enough you did so.

"Why does that asshole get to see you babysit shirtless and I don't?" was the first thing he said when he looked at you. You instantly rolled your eyes, looking at the amusement on his face, "Because his sister is a brat and throws up her food, unlike your brother, perhaps," you scoffed, about to rush back in when his arm grabs yours, pushing you against him while his leg struggled to shut the front door.

His lips found yours, making you walk towards the living room with his mouth against you and your neck. You could smell the weed in his breath the minute his tongue entered you.

"I'm glad to see you too, Munson, now let me move," you grinned, pushing him away before running towards the baby waiting for you in her seat.

The boy approached you, exchanging a few looks with Maya and your displeased expression, "It looks just like him..." he scrunched his nose, causing you to slightly chuckle, "Your turn,"

He didn't have time to process your movements before a towel came flying right on his head. "Huh?" Eddie widened his eyes, glancing at you with confusion.

"You came all the way here, so be my guest, plus..." you smiled, approaching him only to place a slow kiss on his neck, "I really, really need a helping hand..." you smirked watching him shut his eyes.

Half an hour and an empty bowl later, Maya had fallen asleep on the table. You quickly ran upstairs, gently putting her in her crib before leaving the room as quietly as possible.

Once you returned, your gaze fell upon Eddie with a cigarette in-between his lips. He sat on the couch, not noticing your return.

You approached from behind, carefully placing a gentle kiss on the softness of his neck, making the boy sigh, "You can't just go M.I.A. on me y/n," he pouted, reaching his hand behind his neck to hold yours, gesturing you to come sit next to him.

You did so, but before you sat down the boy held you, patting his lap while looking at you with pleading eyes, "You know my mother almost murdered me when I came back home," you whispered against his ear, placing affectionate kisses on his face.

The boy simply hummed before connecting his lips with yours, lustfully leaning on the front, his hands securing your back. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper, your hands traveling inside the roots of his hair.

Eddie groaned, holding you even closer to his body, "Did it have to be you to look after that kid?" he spoke stiffly as he kissed you, "There are tons of babysitters in Hawkins,"

You giggled, feeling his hands lowering, "They trust me Eds," you explained, the smile on your face not fading away, "Just because you smooched their son's forehead-" before he could continue his sentence, your hand was placed over his lips, preventing him.

You lowered your head, slowly sucking and marking his collar bone. Eddie's eyes were shut, and his breathing was heavy. "Since there are tons of babysitters in Hawkins," you paused, securing your hips on his, "Why did you hire me then?"

He rolled his eyes, not responding to your question.

"What's upstairs?" he turned to ask you after a little while, a confused look on your face, "The bedrooms, why?" you immediately inquired, observing the misbehaving expression he had on.

"Alright..." he threw you on the couch, kissing your bare belly as he stood over your body. Your hands kept on caressing him, pleasure and guilt both taking over your mind.

"Come here," he groaned, taking you into his arms before approaching the stairs, catching your guard down, "What are you- Eddie!" you whisper-yelled, once again getting no response from him, "Don't even think about it!"

He did, he thought about it.

"Let's see..." the curlyhead smiled widely, opening one of the doors after placing your feet back on the floor, "Parents' bedroom," he uttered, observing the place.

You ran after him, trying to pull him back downstairs, yet with no result, "What's in here?" he ignored your pleads, pointing at the door with his thumb, "It's the baby's room!" you groaned.

"Third room... Three is a lucky number, but not for Carver apparently," he winked, opening the door before pulling you inside, "Eddie we shouldn't be in here!" cold sweat ran down your spine as you looked at the boy wandering around, observing Jason's medals and pictures.

"Aw, look at how happy he is! Was that before or after he shoved me inside that locker?" he spoke sarcastically, causing you to lower your gaze.

His eyes were fixated on one particular polaroid on the wall, where he was kissing your cheek, a big smile across your face. You grumbled, trying to snatch it away when his hand seized yours.

"Poor him," he whispered, lowering his head to meet your eyes, "Right sweetheart?" his words made your cunt ache, your palms grabbing his face in a matter of seconds before you began kissing him.

You started touching him under his shirt, your fingertips brushing the top of his jeans, teasing their way inside. Eddie whimpered, immediately sitting down on Jason's bed, only to drag you down with him.

"God this is so wrong," you shook your head as you carefully got down on your knees, unbuckling his belt, "Jesus at least buy me a drink first y/n," he joked, making you roll your eyes.

As much as he tried though, nothing he said could change the fact that his breaths were slow, and his dick ached the closer your hands got. He observed you quietly, focusing on a small droplet of sweat traveling across your chest, falling right between your breasts.

He raised his hips slightly, helping you take off his jeans, followed by his underwear. When you suddenly acknowledged what had been hidden inside those jeans this whole time, you audibly gasped. He was so large and hard. It seemed heavy. On the tip of his dick was a shiny pre cum droplet.

The hip tattoo you had seen the other day gracefully developed until his upper thigh, portraying a sword.

Your hand grazed over it while he watched your moves with anticipation. "You don't need to do this," Eddie finally spoke quietly, his hand stroking your loosely tied up hair. You leaned against his touch, smiling, "I know."

You frowned as you carefully took hold of him. "What caused all this mess, baby?". You wanted to hear him say it, admit he had been losing his mind the past week he was away from you.

"Please y/n," Eddie begged, which was just enough for you. Your hand began stroking him carefully as you listened to all his moans and praises his mouth let out.

His eyes spun around the room, focusing on the pictures the jock had of you on his walls. How could a piece of paper turn him on so much?

"y/n," he kept panting the faster your pumping became. You raised your eyes up, looking at him with a smile plastered across your face, "What is it, my pretty boy?" you baby-talked him, "Put it- please," Eddie kept shuttering, thrusting his hips at any chance you gave him, "Oh Jesus, please just suck it," he threw his head back, his long hair touching Jason's mattress.

"Hm, I don't know..." you teased, circling his creamy tip with your thumb, "Please baby..." he sighed, making you blush the moment your tongue touched the base of his cock, licking a strand up to the top.

He was red and flustered.

It felt so wrong, but the pleasure you got just from knowing how desperate he was for your touch only increased the wetness inside your panties. You were certain he hadn't done this before, just by the look inside his eyes, and that turned you on.

All the days he had to watch your practice from a distance, feeling that slight attraction towards the cheerleader who definitely saw him as the school's clown and made fun of him together with her jock boyfriend was just overthinking that had finally gone wasted. You were between his legs, sucking him off, and he was enjoying every single second of it.

As your tongue rolled around him, your left hand stocked what you couldn't fit while the right one slid down your abdomen, straight inside your panties in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure you felt.

"Oh sweetheart, first you make me seem desperate and then you start playing with yourself in front of me?" he says, making you realize his head was up, eyes pinned on your movements.

Obviously, he had noticed the change in your pumps after they began weakening and shaking. The moans you let out vibrated against his dick, his fingers caressing your pink cheeks.

"Carver was quite the lucky man, hm?" he grinned, lifting your chin up to make you look into his eyes. Your mouth was wet, a strand of salvia connecting your lips to his dick.

"Eddie please just fuck me," you blurted out, your eyes glossy as you gave him an innocent look, "You are making me paranoid, you know that?" he whispered, a misbehaving smile catching him off guard, "Oh you wanna act slutty around me?" he asked, pressing his cock against your lips.

"Finish me off pretty eyes, inside your mouth."

Your heart beat faster, hands tired and shaking as you began taking him inside your mouth once again. This time the curlyhead grinned, thrusting his hips against your head, making your eyes tear up.

You kept on gagging, his praising leading your hand to move faster inside your panties, "My sweet pure girl..." he breathed, listening to your cries, "Sucking off the freak inside Jason Carver's bedroom," he laughed, "Who would have thought?"

"Eddie-" you tried to say, yet the boy shushed you, "Oh sweetheart I'm gonna- shit," he moaned, "Keep going..."

You did as he told you, the hand in your panties sliding up his thigh for your fingertips tingle his soft skin.

"Holy shit!" his last moan was loud, Eddie's head being thrown behind as you felt his warmness release inside your mouth, pulling away from him.

His eyes fell upon you, quickly shifting towards your spot, "What's wrong baby?" his bangs were slightly stuck on his forehead from the amount of sweat he had developed.

You had never done this before, and as much as you wanted to please him, your teary eyes made him understand your discomfort, "Shh, pretty it's okay, spit it out," he kissed your forehead, rushing towards Jason's desk to grab the trash can.

"I'm sorry," you wiped your mouth, finally able to speak, "Nothing to be sorry about, come here," he hugged you, pulling you up the bed.

His arms slowly guided you to lie down right before he got on top of you, placing sloppy kisses all over your neck, and chest until he reached your lower tummy.

"Eddie..." you spoke, slightly stroking his cheek, " We might get caught," your shame took over your mind, eyes looking around the familiar four walls, "I want to make you feel good, right here."

How could you say no? You needed him and his puppy eyes to remain on top of you, do whatever he wanted to your body.

"Will you let me?" his whispers against the crook of your neck made you wrap your legs around his nude waist. Eddie flinched at the sudden contact before his left hand started lowering the elastic of your sweatpants.

To help him out, you immediately took his shirt off, tossing it on the floor. Eddie's back was to die for. Heavily defined, the chain of his pick necklace getting caught up between his upper muscles.

You were left with your panties and bra whilst he was utterly naked.

You sunk against the soft mattress as the curlyhead kissed the top of your panties, his tongue making its way under the fabric.

"May I?" he questioned, to which you nodded in return, softly placing your hands around his neck. Eddie slid your panties off slightly chuckling, "I can't put them in my pocket this time," he smiled, making you scoff, "I'll still steal them though."

"Eddie."

"Mhm?"

"Behave,"

He grinned, leaving a last kiss on your belly button before crawling higher on the bed. "If you need me to stop, just tell me, okay sweetheart?" he asked, and you instantly nodded.

He sighed as he took his cock into his grip, holding it outside your entrance. The boy slowly entered his tip inside you, enjoying every single sound that came out of your lips.

Eddie reached back down to play with the smooth folds of your cunt. He ran his impatient fingers up and down the tender spot, spreading your spit and arousal.

"I'm begging you, Eds," you sputtered. He was taking his time. You took it upon yourself to push back onto him and rub your cunt against his tip since you were so desperate for his dick.

The boy groaned, catching you unprepared the second he pushed himself all the way inside you, "Ed- oh my- fuck!" you kept moaning, your nails leaving visible red marks all over his back.

"That's it," he breathed, "Take it all, beautiful," his voice was so low and hoarse, you swore it brought waves of pleasure down your needy cunt.

You were struck so deep inside that you could not control your actions. "Look at him," Eddie groaned, grabbing a picture from Jason's bedside table. "I'm the one who's fucking you on this dick's bed."

"I can't wait for the moment you'll have to look him in the eyes, knowing how well I laid you up. How you'll have to admit that Eddie the freak filled your little pussy so well, no one would be enough for you ever again."

You could already feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach tightening. No man, not even Jason, has ever made you want to cum so fast.

Eddie kept thrusting his ink-filled hips against you, your skin slapping and your moans filling the entire room. You loved the contact your two bare bodies made.

"God! Please don't stop!" your pleading went straight to his cock, making him even harder. He loved listening to your whimpers and begs so much that he only wished you two had done this a long time ago...

His desires eventually took over him when his hand flew down your head, making you quickly stand up on your knees. The brunette then grabbed your hips, turning you around before pushing your ass against his hardness.

Your back remained on his chest when suddenly, the emptiness you felt was immediately replaced by his cock. A few hard thrusts later, Eddie slid two fingers on your folds, quickly rubbing your clit as he kept on fucking you.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Your thighs began shaking, a numbing feeling taking over you as you felt that knot in your belly release, pleasure washing your entire exhausted body.

Eddie then immediately pulled out of you, his hand quickly jerking himself off as you watched his cum slowly release, both of you falling behind on the bed.

Curses and prayers both were repeated under your breaths, a huge grin on his face unlike yours. You felt your eyes shutting close from the tiredness, but Eddie noticed immediately.

"Come on sweetheart," he softly laughed, picking up your clothes from the floor before carefully beginning to dress you, "I'm not a doll Eds, I can dress myself," you roll your eyes playfully, "I need a month to recover from the heart attacks," the boy spoke.

"You know what, Munson?" you question as he slides your panties back on, "What?" the boy smiles, "In that case I'll give up babysitting for another career," you laugh, pressing your lips against his nose and forehead, "And what would that be?"

"Cardiology. Now put your clothes on before both you and I get arrested."

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