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#i need to find a way to put that on my resume
fangirl-dot-com · 1 day
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🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss
*part of the reverse tropes series*
Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.
*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*
TAG LIST CLOSED
You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 
Key word being almost. 
You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 
Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 
“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 
Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 
“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 
“Finally.”
You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 
When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 
It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 
You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 
Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 
The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 
“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 
Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 
That was not a nice looking old lady. 
The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 
“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  
If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 
But you hadn’t noticed. 
“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 
The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 
“Is this your first time?” 
You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 
A grunt escaped his lips. 
“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 
“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 
The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 
“Just don’t miss the exit.” 
“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 
His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 
You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 
A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 
“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 
You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.
“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 
A click near your ear made you freeze. 
“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 
You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 
“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 
You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 
You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 
“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 
Your breathing started to grow ragged. 
“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 
You were now panicking. 
“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 
Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 
“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 
The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 
“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 
Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 
“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 
Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 
The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 
“Then . . . who has Max?” 
Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 
“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 
Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 
“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 
So much for customer service. 
You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 
Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 
Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 
“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 
“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 
“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 
Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 
He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 
Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 
Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 
“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 
You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 
Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 
“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 
“Aha!” 
The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 
Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 
“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 
Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 
“I heard that!” 
The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 
“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 
“How far am I driving?” 
Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 
You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 
When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 
“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 
“We’re not done yet mister.” 
There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 
“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 
Your fully turned around to glare. 
“Yes.” 
You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 
“My cousin lives around here!” 
Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 
“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 
He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 
“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 
You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 
The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 
“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 
Your sprung in your place. 
“Lando!” 
“Max?” 
“Charles?”
Lando squinted at you. 
“Y/n?” 
A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 
“Lando?” 
The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 
“You kidnapped my friend?” 
“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”
“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 
Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 
“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  
uber_y/n has posted
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uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤
liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others
bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭
uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW
max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje
uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)
max_v woman 🙄
land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐
uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀
sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber
uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?
max_v oh no
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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illdowhatiwantthanks · 16 hours
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Postpartum
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Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (NSFW), sex, oral sex, hella eating out, fingering, etc., mentions of anatomy/body parts, some explicit language, post-pregnancy times (please let me know if I've left anything out!) Word Count: 2.0k
Summary: You're six weeks postpartum, and your doctor has cleared you for sex, but you're worried that it might not be the same anymore. Amelia assuages all of your worries. 😉
Request Info: This was requested by an anonymous user, but the request itself accidentally got deleted! The user also requested that the reader be an ortho surgeon and a third twisted sister. Whoever you are, I hope you find this, and I'm so sorry to have lost your original request!
“You’re good to go,” your OBGYN declared, finishing up your 6-weeks postpartum checkup.
You raised your eyebrows at her. “As in, good to go?”
She laughed. “Good to go, as in cleared to resume any and all sexual activity as you feel ready for it.”
You nodded and repeated it to yourself. “Good to go…”
But as you left Grey-Sloan, making a quick stop at the ortho unit to say hello to the nurses and the other attendings, you couldn’t help but wonder if you really were good to go. Sure, you missed sex with Amelia. You missed her body, missed connecting with her in that way, but you were also so self-conscious. You hadn’t had any major tears or anything, but you had shoved a human head out of your vagina less than two months ago. It was bound to be different down there. It felt different. What if sex didn’t feel good anymore? What if it never did? Or, even worse, what if it looked or felt different for Amelia, and she didn’t like sleeping with you anymore?
You decided to text Meredith and Cristina about it, as you so often did about any and everything.
Y/N: You guys I’ve been cleared for sex
M: Yay!
C: Good for you bitch
Y/N: I’m kinda scared tho…
M: Aw, why?
Y/N: Does it hurt after? Or like idk was Derek weirded out?
C: It feels like I could have been left out of this conversation
M: Shut up Cristina we’re being supportive! And no Y/N it didn’t hurt. You just have to take it slow and do what feels good at the time. And stop if it doesn’t feel good.
C: You don’t have a dick to deal with so you should be okay
M: CRISTINA
Y/N: I mean tbh we have several
M: Ew she’s my sister I didn’t need to know that…
C: I need to know more…
You shook your head and smiled. You decided that you might as well try, if Amelia was up for it. And there was no question that Amelia was up for it. She’d powered through like a champ, but before this, the longest you’d gone without having sex was two weeks and that was only because you’d been brought in as a specialist on a case at another hospital.
When you walked into the apartment, everything was quiet–a rarity at your house these days. You crept through the rooms, looking for Amelia and Pippa, and finally found them in the nursery. Amelia held Pippa to her chest, bouncing her softly as she slept, little chubby cheeks pressing out like she was blowing bubbles.
You placed a hand on Amelia’s back and kissed her on the cheek. You nodded toward Pippa, eyebrows scrunched.
“I just can’t bring myself to put her down,” Amelia whispered. “How was your appointment?”
“Good.”
Amelia stared pointedly at you. “Good good?”
You nodded, smirking.
If Pippa had not been tiny and fragile, Amelia would have tossed her into the crib like a football.
She placed the baby gently on her back in the crib, then crashed into you with the force of a tidal wave–or six weeks of no sex.
She pushed you into the hallway wall, shutting Pippa’s door behind her, and pressed into you, her mouth and hands desperate. She ran her tongue up and down your neck and back to your mouth and yanked your shirt over your head. God, you’d missed this. You’d missed her. Even though she’d been right here next to you the whole time. She groaned as she pushed herself into you, and you smiled into her kiss.
At this rate, Amelia would be finished before you even had a chance to make it to the bed.
“No, no!” she whined as you pulled away, her blue eyes pleading desperately with you.
“Come to bed, Amy,” you teased, taking her by the hand and leading her to the bedroom.
You gently removed her clothes and pushed her onto the bed. “You first,” you said.
She grabbed at your face hungrily as you leaned over her, kissing you with all the fervor of someone who’s love has been lost at sea for several years. She gasped and arched her back as your hand grazed over her clit.
You couldn’t help but smile at how needy she was, her hips bucking into your hand as you held it still, cupping her heat.
“Y/N, don’t fucking tease me,” she scolded, her voice stuttering. “It’s been way too long for that.”
“Oh, you don’t like that?” you said, smug. It was not often that Amelia was this powerless in bed. Usually it was the other way around, so you were enjoying this moment.
She grabbed your face, rough, and then soft as she ran her hand through your hair. “Just finish me already so I can get inside you.” She pulled your face closer, her breath hot in your ear as she whispered. “I’ve missed the taste of you.”
You’d never switched gears faster. No more power trips, just getting Amelia off as quickly as possible.
You kissed and licked your way down her body, intoxicated by the way she pushed into you and pulled you closer. By the time you reached her center, she was panting and glistening and you knew it'd only be a matter of minutes before she was absolute putty.
You pressed soft kisses into her inner thighs, then closer and closer until she was nearly bursting with the want of you, so that when you finally, finally, wrapped your mouth around her clit, she nearly lost her mind. You held her hips in place as she moaned, licking your way through her, around her, inside of her until she was shaking in your arms, hips rolling to meet your tongue. And for the final touch, you slipped two of your fingers inside of her, curling down and around, just how you knew she liked it. Her hands were gripping your hair so hard you thought might pull it out. “Y/N!” she gasped, her breath coming out in short, sharp moans as she came on your fingers. You smiled as you buried your face in her, guiding her through her high and back down again.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, her chest still heaving.
“Good?” you asked, already knowing the answer, as you wiped your mouth.
She nodded, still struggling to catch her breath. “Give me a second.”
You lay down next to her, feeling wildly pleased with yourself, especially when Amelia rolled over on top of you and pressed her mouth into yours, moaning as she tasted herself on your lips.
But as she worked her way down your body, anxiety shot through you.
You grabbed her hand. “Amy, wait…”
She looked up at you, concerned.
“You don’t have to,” you said, avoiding her eyes.
“I know I don’t,” she replied, still looking at you curiously. “I want to. I’ve wanted to for months.”
“I think…” you stuttered. “I think I’d really rather you didn’t.”
Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” she said, laying down next to you and propping herself up on her elbow so she could see your face. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just not ready.”
“That’s fine, but you seemed super ready about two minutes ago.”
You didn’t respond, fiddling with an edge of your comforter.
“Y/N,” she said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head please.”
She took your hand and you played with her fingers for a moment before answering.
“I’m scared you won't like it.”
Amelia looked genuinely shocked. “You’re what now?”
“I got messed up down there,” you mumbled. “What if it’s not like normal for you?”
“Oh, babe,” she said, caressing your face. “You’re not messed up. You could never be messed up. You’re you and I love you. I love all of you.”
You stayed quiet.
“Honey,” she continued, more emphatic now. “Your body made a whole human. A human that is sleeping in the bedroom down the hallway. A beautiful, precious human that I love with all my heart and hope with all my heart stays asleep for a while so that I can get in there. She had her time. It's my fucking turn."
You couldn’t help but giggle a bit.
“Listen,” she ranted, excited that your mood was brightening and trying to make you laugh more. “I’m like the Lewis and Clark of vaginas, okay? The wilderness must be explored. I gotta get in there and get the lay of the land. And it might be new, right?”
You nodded, grinning and blushing.
“But new doesn’t mean bad. Lots of times new means better. So just… let me do my exploring, okay?”
“Okay,” you acquiesced.
Amelia was gentler with this attempt, slow and steady and worshipful as she moved down your body, taking her time especially at the place where your uterus still bulged, where new stretch marks had drawn their way across your abdomen. And when she got to your center, she was gentle there, too, mindful of your anxiety, mindful that it might take your body more time than usual to warm up.
She was loving and slow and obsessive, sighing with pleasure as she placed kisses along the inside of your thighs, on your clit, all over you. Amelia’s careful touch had washed away most of your anxiety, leaving behind your flushed face, the shuddering of your body each time her skin met yours.
And when finally, finally, she had you wet and whimpering, she dove in like a woman starved.
“Amy,” you breathed, lightly holding her head in your hands as you threw your own head back, your hips rising to meet her. You could feel her smile against you.
“You want more?” she asked, and you knew she meant, Do you want fingers or a strap or a toy or anything like that?
You shook your head. “No, just–” Your breath caught in your throat, replaced by a moan as the knot in your lower abdomen tightened.  “Just keep going.”
If there was one thing about Amelia, it was that she could eat you out forever. You’d been afraid that would change, but clearly your fears had been unfounded. She was insatiable.
“Amy–” you exclaimed, arching your back as your body approached the edge. You couldn’t even get the words out, just “Amy” over and over.
She reached up to grasp one of your hands in hers as you fell apart around her, Amelia lapping up every last bit of you.
You breathed heavily, watching as Amelia emerged from between your thighs, grinning like an idiot, her face an absolute mess.
You laughed as she wiped her face. “I take it your expedition went well?”
“God!” she exclaimed, flopping down beside you. “I missed you.”
“We literally have not been apart for weeks.”
“Okay, well, then I missed your vagina.”
You giggled, rolling over a bit to kiss her on the cheek. “You’re a dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” Amelia retorted, pulling you in for another heated kiss.
You were interrupted then by a loud, crinkly wail through the baby monitor.
Amelia groaned, but you could see a smile creeping in. She stood and stretched. “I’ll go get her.”
“Amelia!” you hissed, throwing a pillow at her. “You can't bring her in here! We’re naked, and it smells like sex!”
“She’s six weeks old! She won’t remember!” Amelia nodded at you. “Go take a shower. Relax. Then we can switch. It's almost time to feed her anyway.”
You lay in bed a moment longer, waiting to hear Amelia on the baby monitor.
“Hello!” she cooed, her voice crackling through the speaker as Pippa continued to cry. “Hi, pretty girl! Oh, I know. I know. You want Mama? Let’s go see her. Oh, you love your mama, don’t you? Mommy does, too.”
You smiled, your heart full as you listened.
“We loooooove Mama, don’t we? Yes, we do. We love her so much.”
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acanthemp3 · 5 months
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its not easy being the least qualified most incompetent employee who is always fucking up but someone has to do it 🫡
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Thank god I'm retaking my cell bio class online because there's no way I'm wasting energy, time, and gas on commuting to that hellish campus twice a week
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corbinite · 2 years
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Anyone else struck with an overwhelming sense of dissatisfaction?
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
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“A BIT GENTLER, PLEASE?”
— gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna feeling their baby kick (f!reader)
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GOJO SATORU:
satoru was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.
truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. his light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.
he also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.
that’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”
you get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”
“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.
you’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favorite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute blue dress! call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have my gorgeous eyes,” he grins.
you nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? overalls? dungarees?” he switches his accent in the end and you roll your eyes. he resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”
he puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomaxh, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”
you’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.
your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”
his other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”
“right, ‘toru,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply irresistible.
NANAMI KENTO:
whenever someone asks you about kento, you can’t find the words to stress just how much of a sweetheart he is. he was always a caring and attentive man.
yet, somehow it amplified after your pregnancy: he helps you rest as much as he can, cooks for you, and gets you all the snacks you would like.
you also remember the first time you told him that your feet hurt, and he ended up massaging it for you. you cried that day.
in summary, he never left you in need of anything, like right now for example.
“y/n, would you like anything else?”
a dopey smile is plastered on your face as you relax further in the cushions, feet propped up on the pillow your sweetheart of a husband got.
he places your favorite snacks right by your side. you cup his face and press a lingering kiss on his cheek, “no, thank you, kento.”
he nods and takes a seat beside you. he takes your hand into his and starts rubbing your hand, “we should start preparing the baby’s room,” he murmurs softly.
you nod, head resting on his shoulder, “you’re right. we need to welcome our little princess well.”
he chuckles and his hand moves to rest on your stomach, “I assembled the crib already so that’s something to be proud of.”
nanami’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you snuggle closer into his chest, giggling, “my strong, independent, and reliable husband,” you sigh happily, “whatever will I do without you?”
he half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “flattery is getting you nowhere.”
“but it does!” you laugh and he lightly tickles you. your hand rests on your stomach, alongside his. you smirk, “what do you think, baby? is mommy right?”
to your absolute delight, the little girl kicks against your womb making you squeal and instantly look at your husband, “kento, did you feel that?!”
“…yeah,” his face is one of awe. she kicks once again and nanami can’t help but press a kiss to your stomach, “looks like she is a strong, healthy baby.”
 “just like her dad,” you chuckle but stop to think about it for a moment before concern over takes your face.
nanami’s gaze quickly snaps to you, “what’s wrong?”
“if she will be as strong as you then god help my uterus.”
GETO SUGURU:
geto gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you.
in addition to that, nanako and mimiko love hanging out with you so it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you’re accompanied by someone.
today, he was doing some of his usual works in the establishment? shrine? eh whatever.
no fiber of his being expected the girls to burst into the room, grins filling their faces, as they urgently call him, “geto-sama! you have to see what just happened!”
with no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the girls. he asks them, voice laced with concern, “is y/n okay? did something happen?”
the girls giggle as they finally near your room. mimiko speak up, “she is okay! but something important really did happen!”
somehow, it sends geto more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?
after a while, they are finally there, and geto wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.
you giggle, “’calm down, suguru,” you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, “can you feel it?”
“feel it? what do you mean—“ he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.
you nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.
he rests his head against your stomach, “how are you, little buddy?”
geto chuckles softly, “better not cause trouble for your pretty mom,” his eyes lock with yours, “I hate to see her in pain or discomfort.”
you roll your eyes before patting your husband’s head, “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
“I would rather only charm you, y’know,” he chuckles.
the both of you completely forget about the pair of girls standing at the door way, each snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you.
nanako snickers a little before teasing, “that line was a bit cheesy, no?”
he quirks an eyebrow at them and they quickly flee away. with a soft sigh and a gentle chuckle, he goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
it’s safe to say that sukuna was surprised with the news of your pregnancy, but he came to terms with it quicker than you expected.
he just had to sit with himself a bit and understand that the ‘brat’ in you was his ‘brat’ as well.
he also found himself staring at your stomach longer than he would like. he started to really think about how life will go on from this point onwards.
he is a feared man, the king of curses, with no weaknesses to ever exploit.
that is until you came into his life. he grew fond of you and the rest is history. right now, though, you’re carrying his child.
after a long day, he finally enters your chambers and finds you fast asleep.
he guesses that carrying a child of his own must be more exhausting than that of a normal man. his feet take him to you and his figure towers over your sleeping form.
he watches your expression contort ever so slightly as you stir, perhaps in seek of your comfort.
he sits by your side and his hand traces your every feature, nails slightly grazing you but never hurting you. finally, it reaches your stomach and he frowns lightly.
he sighs, “just what the hell am I going to do with you?”
he feels a light kick against his palm.
his eyes widen at the movement and his hand involuntary presses against your stomach once more, wanting to feel the kick once again. he narrows his eyes, “what? you think that light kick is fit for the kid of the king of curses?”
as if understanding what he said, the baby delivers one rough and tough kick to your abdomen. you wince and whine at the pain, “sukuna, don’t be mean to the baby…”
“I am not trying to, woman,” he grumbles, “that kid is just short-tempered.”
sukuna is sporting quite the frown but it doesn’t stop his hand from massaging your stomach and you hum in content before sassing him, “oh wow, I wonder where did he get that from.”
you squeak as you feel a pinch to your side. you glare at sukuna who glares at you back before replying, “he got it from one stubborn woman who happens to be mine.”
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onlyswan · 4 months
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summary: in which jungkook gets his motorcycle license and you don’t believe in fate.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, a dash of angst / word count: 5.5k
content/warnings: protective!bf jungkook 🫡 / jk gives oc h*ckeys / jk is sad and scared bc many couples r breaking up :( then he gets h*rny and i can’t blame him bc oc is hot / oc loves short skirts n jk is stressed / oc gets an anxiety attack !! bc they thought jk got into an accident / bam cameo <3
> in which masterlist!
note: ART REPORTING FOR DUTY 🫡 it’s been a while so i feel quite rusty and my brain is fried pls bear with me </3 i’m excited to post regularly again and get back into the flow hehe. as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated! 🥺
it is a rather calm afternoon in your shared apartment. you and jungkook may be together in the living room, but you’re each spending your alone time.
you’re sitting on the couch with bam’s head on your lap, your not-so-little baby sleeping soundly. you indulge yourself in a fashion magazine, occasionally lifting your head when you sense your boyfriend staring at you longingly from the desk. he would quickly avert his eyes to feign obliviousness, switching between the laptop or his phone to busy himself.
“babe, spit it out.” you giggle, lowering down the magazine from your face. “is there something wrong…? what do you want?”
“no, it’s nothing. just ignore me.”
“then you’re going to be upset with me when i actually do it?”
“yah! that’s not true!” he looks at you wide-eyed, chest puffing up in defense. “it’s really nothing, okay? you can go back to reading.”
“mkay, whatever you say… i’m not reading, though.”you mumble the last sentence, burying your nose in the magazine again.
with a glittery golden-inked pen, you draw a star beside a bag from the spring/summer collection that you fell in love with at first sight. you hear the clacking of the keyboard pause and resume, pause and resume, but you ignore your boyfriend’s beseeching glances like he asked you to.
minutes pass by on the clock as you flip the pages with twinkling eyes and silent squeals, but they feel like hours to jungkook.
he blinks at the laptop screen as he sinks his teeth on his bottom lip.
he just needs to do it— get it over with. whatever it is, he’s certain that the two of you could reach some sort of compromise… right?
he puts on a face of determination before wheeling the gaming chair towards where you are. and with no one to blame but himself, he releases a disgruntled noise when he collides with the leather couch. the impact sends him a couple of feet away from his destination, but his hands find purchase on your exposed thighs and he brings himself back to you.
his clinginess never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.
you smile in secret, silent as he hooks his arms underneath your knees and lies his head beside bam’s. he kisses bam’s forehead, and in a somewhat twisted way, you are grateful for all the times the universe tugged at the string of joy and made you chase after it, because it led you here.
he has folded himself in a position that looks wildly uncomfortable, but jungkook likes to torture his senses for some reason, so you let him be. you pretend that no one has invaded your space, attached theirself to you so close that you’re carrying a quarter of their weight; feeling tickled by their exhales against your skin.
you planned to mix yourself a cocktail halfway through your magazine, but that is pushed to the bottom of things you can do now that your boyfriend is displeased with the lack of attention from his lover.
“this won’t do!”
his impatience forces him out of the chair and onto the couch, where he sneaks his strong arms around your waist. the movements shakes bam awake from his slumber. the doberman sits up, tiredly blinks at his father as if he is so done, and leaps off the couch to strut to his house.
jungkook scratches his head guiltily. “bam! dad is sorry that he disturbed your sleep!”
to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t receive a reply.
“oh, bam, are you mad at me…? you can’t be, right? you must understand… we both really love ____, don’t we?”
but he does receive one from you— a fond gaze that thinks of him bizarre.
“he’s not mad!” he defends himself.
“he should be. we were having a peaceful time together.”
“yah, that’s so mean. i’m part of this family too!” he complains with a scowl. “i want to cuddle.”
“no one’s stopping you, babe.”
this time, he hides his face in the crook of your neck.
he breathes you in, and his mind becomes clouded with the natural scent of you, so uniquely you, sweet and fresh like the clouds on a spring day, mixed with a hint of strawberries. humans smell fragrant flowers and break off their stems. jungkook smells you and he bites, sinks his teeth on your skin, sucks, again and again, and then soothes the ache with a slow and gentle slide of his tongue, but it doesn’t erase the marks that blossom into a hue of a bruise.
he licks his lips, wet with saliva, feeling cocky with the memory of your sharp inhales— cockier when he lifts his head and sees the dilation of your pupils behind a curtain of haze.
however, they’re still trained towards the fashion items printed on paper that you so desperately wish would materialize into thin air.
he groans.
“baaaaby,”
“mhmmm?” you mimic the tone of his whine, resting your head on his shoulder— just to be closer, let him know you’re here and you’re listening.
he clears his throat, prepares for the worst.
“these days, there’s something i’ve been thinking of a lot… i’ve been researching here and there, too…”
“about?”
“motorcycles…”
“okay,”
“okay?”
bewildered by your nonchalant response, he pulls away to squint at you in suspicion.
“…i’m planning to buy one and get a license? like, maybe next week?”
“okay,” you repeat yourself.
hit with a twinge of confusion, you briefly tear your eyes away from the beautiful gowns worn by beautiful models.
“are you telling me or are you asking me?”
“uh- uhm,” he stutters. “i’m telling you.”
“alright then,”
his chest puffs up as he inhales sharply. “that’s it?!”
“what do you want me to say?” you flip a page, a flicker of amusement flashing across your face. “you’re not allowed to…? i mean- sure, i can do that, too.“
“no, no, no, no, no-” he kisses your cheek— nearly, barely, he’s smiling too big to do it properly. “no, really! are you serious?”
“why won’t you believe me?” the magazine lands on your lap as you cross your arms in annoyance. “what do you think of me?”
“i heard couples really fight about this in particular, though?” he chuckles, and it’s your pouted lips’ turn to be granted a kiss. “sorry, i assumed you won’t approve of this one. you’re so strict with me about driving safely.”
“it’s no problem because i know you’re responsible. i just get worried sometimes,” you mumble. “when you’re tired from work.”
“i know,”
“good,” you sigh, leaning into him to steal a kiss yourself. “can i just ask you for one thing then?”
“yes,” he nods eagerly. “anything.”
“if i find out that you didn’t wear a helmet one time…” you tuck your bottom lip in between your teeth, unsure what type of reaction you will elicit. “you’re getting rid of it.”
“three times-”
“oh my god, absolutely not!”
the sheer horror painted on your face further fuels his mischief.
“twice?”
“you said anyth-”
“please?”
“no! then i’m getting rid of it myself!”
you shove his shoulder, and he allows himself to fall flat on the couch before bouncing back with the mission to ease your mind.
“i’m just joking, baby!” his giggles fill the entire apartment.
he cages your face in his hands but you stubbornly resist.
“i’m joking- i’m joking. i’m sorry. come here, give me a kiss.”
he makes a smooching sound with his puckered lips and you send an unimpressed glare in return.
“promise me first,” your fingers wrap around his wrist to deny his affectionate advances. “one time!”
“i promise!”
“and you won’t get angry at me?”
and with that, his heart begins to ache in his chest. the shift in your voice, the nervousness blanketed by softness… fuck.
“how hard can that possibly be?”
he just remembered how upset you were when he got himself infected after visiting a tattoo shop in america. you told him it would probably be best to do more research on the place, but he isn’t jungkook if he isn’t stubborn. it was hell, to say the least. being in pain and fighting with you for days. you would tend to him and the silence would rub salt on the wound.
today, however, he was more than prepared to defend his case in the event that he faces rejection.
he doesn’t.
on the contrary, he is a given a gift.
“i hate you,” you whimper, but your words contradict the way you respond to his kisses— the sharpness of them has been dulled by his tongue. he tastes like the green apple lollipop that you completely forgot you left on the desk four days ago.
he draws back with a playful grin.
thief… your kisses and your candy and your body and your heart. all his.
“huh, you don’t mean that.”
“i do!”
“i love you,” he utters tenderly. “i trust you to set me straight when i need to get my shit together.”
“then you understand that i just don’t want it to become a habit, right…?”
what does he think of you? a person who treats him with utmost gentleness, supports his happiness, and worries about his safety— a person more important to him than himself.
“and even if it’s only one time… we never know what’s going to happen. i wouldn’t be able to bear seeing you outside the celebrity segment of the news. jungkook, i swear.” you pray that he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice, disguising it with a layer of humor. “i will lose my mind.”
“of course i understand! that won’t ever happen, baby! i want to tell you not to worry too much, but… but to be honest… i think i will be more upset if you don’t lecture me about this kind of thing at all.”
“really?”
“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?”
this whole time, you’ve been saying i don’t want you to get hurt i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you, and he hears you clearly— like how one recognizes their favorite song playing in public even from far away.
you smile sheepishly. “show me the motorcycle you want.”
your outspoken interest makes jungkook’s face light up like a christmas tree.
“there’s actually a few that i’m looking at…” he trails off, running back to the desk to grab his laptop.
“i’ll help you choose!” you clap your hands excitedly. “is there a pink one?”
“pink?!” he exclaims, which is then followed by endeared laughter. “you want it?”
you assume that he is going to ignore the silly idea, that is until he returns to his seat beside you.
“sure, there should be one somewhere.” he whispers, more to himself, typing away on the keyboard to feed your curiosity.
“really? really?” you babble, clinging to his arm to take a peek at the screen.
“hmmm,” he hums. “get a license too and i’ll buy it for you.”
a sound of disapproval bubbles in your throat. “eh, not for me. i want you to use it.”
jungkook dramatically pauses. he stares at you, doe eyes infront of blazing headlights.
he releases a burdened sigh.
“why me?!”
“bend over,” jungkook commands sternly, standing arms crossed infront of the bedroom door to deny your exit. “right now.”
“eh?” you gape at him. “but aren’t we goi-”
“i said turn around, baby.”
you’re left with no choice when his patience runs thin and he captures your hand— it comes so naturally when you twirl on your toes as if you’re waltzing to a slow love song. he pushes you forward gently, and you carry your innate grace all the way to the arch of your back.
jungkook swallows down a moan elicited by the tantalizing view, clearing his throat. he masks the sound by unceremoniously spanking your ass, the skin-to-skin contact also causing a sharp sting to spread across his palm.
“shit- i knew it, it’s too short.” he tugs your skirt down, a useless attempt at concealing your white lace underwear. he harshly breathes out in exasperation. “baby, i can see everything! you can’t ride a motorcycle wearing this!“
“what? motorcycle?! i can finally ride it?!”
you only heard one word come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, it seems.
you flip in excitement, facing him again with a smile as bright as the sunny sky outside. “you got your license? why didn’t you tell me?!”
“i was going to surprise you but-”
he still looks stressed out, eyes trained to your skirt- well, your legs. the skirt is barely there.
“going back here from the parking lot to change would be-”
“but it’s miu miu,” you quietly remark, looking down at the article of clothing with a frown. “it’s not that short…”
“look at the mirror,” he points to your left with his eyes, but then he is already carrying you by the curves of your waist so that your back is facing it.
you bend down on your own, and jungkook clicks his tongue when you only giggle heartily upon seeing your own reflection.
“it’s fiiine! you’re there to protect me. i just won’t bend down.”
“but won’t you get cold?”
“nope!” you reply without a second to spare. “for fashion, i never get cold.”
it’s been more than five years since he met you; jungkook knows damn well that is very far from the truth. not a single autumn and winter have passed that he didn’t lend you his jacket, his warmth, and then some more, simply because you refuse to stop wearing skirts until you’re at the verge of freezing to death.
alright, maybe he’s being dramatic, and you’re stubborn as hell.
“and i’m wearing my tall boots,” you raise your leg in a straight line to show off the leather brown boots that stop below your knees. “look, look… don’t i look cute?”
cute? such a word won’t do you justice. you’re acting like he’s not also looking at your panties.
“of course,” a soft smile replaces his hardened features. “you look so beautiful, baby.”
“hm, thought so,” you scrunch your nose, and his heart skips a beat.
damn, but that- there’s definitely no other word to describe it but the word cute.
“but how about, let’s say, wearing a coat over it?”
“jungkook! no!” you grunt, punching his arm- but then a lightbulb illuminates your brain.
“or shorts under it-”
“oh my god, i think you have one that matches. i remember i saw it the other day-”
“no, wait, wait, wait- shorts are safer! ____!”
you sprint back to the walk-in closet, leaving jungkook alone in the bedroom.
“come back here!”
he jerks his head in distress, rubbing his eyes harshly with his tattooed knuckles.
“ah, ____!”
“what?!” you yell, voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “i found it!”
“is it too tight?” jungkook inquires, looking up to you from the floor.
you bend your knees to assess the tightness of knee pads. “nope, it’s good.”
he proceeds to grab the elbows pads he hung over the handle of the motorcycle.
“hmmm, next… you wear these instead.”
you pout, recalling that he forgot his riding jacket at work yesterday. “but what about you?”
“i only have one pair.” he says. “it’s fine, it’s just for now. let’s pick up my jacket at the company before going to the museum.”
“how about let’s wear one each?”
upon processing the mechanics of your suggestion, his tall and broad frame shakes with mirth.
you obviously grew up with little siblings. they were so lucky to have you.
“hey! what are you laughing at?”
“nothing, you’re just cute.” he chuckles, wrapping the other protective pad around your left elbow. “just wear them both. i’m confident with my driving but… i still need you as safe as possible, baby.”
“but jungkook! what if y-” you whine out a protest, which he instantly silences by slipping your helmet over your head. “ugh, you’re so rude!”
he beams with pride as he clips its straps beneath your chin. “wow, it fits so perfectly? i only guessed… ah, as expected of jeon jungkook.”
his hand freezes on the visor when you strike him with the beady eyes, pouting your lips to request for a kiss, which he grants— more than willingly. gladly. happily. with pleasure.
cruising through the city on a motorbike with the love of his life; going on dates; putting on your helmet for you and learning how to angle his face for when he steals a kiss— he used to only witness this in romance films.
at the end of the day he’s just a simple man, jungkook admits.
what a dream come true.
it definitely becomes clearer to jungkook today— why you did not oppose the idea of him getting a motorcycle license on such short notice.
“this is so cool!“ you squeal behind him, subconsciously raising the pitch of your voice to contest with the wind and the roaring engines.
“____, be careful,” he chides you. “or else i’ll slow down!”
a sense of relief washes over him as you readjust your arms around his waist, your weight resting on him ironically making his chest feel lighter.
if only jungkook could protect you by keeping you bubblewrapped at all times, he would.
“you’re enjoying this more than i expected.”
the two of you idle before a red light. he balances the two-wheeled vehicle with his left foot planted on the ground.
“is it fun?”
“so much fun!” you gush, enthusiasm overflowing past the seams of your lips. “you already drive like a pro!”
“of course! i studied hard! i don’t plan on putting you in danger with my stupidity!”
“still-” you interject. “you’re just good at everything.”
while he is aware that he is gifted in many ways, technically speaking, jungkook knows he can’t possibly be good at everything. but hearing it come from the person he love and adore most in the world? he can’t help but to allow it to inflate his ego a little bit.
ten seconds before the traffic light turns green.
his smirk is hidden inside his helmet, but you can masterfully envision it in your head just from the transparent smugness in his voice.
“time to hold on again, baby.”
“i think you just like me feeling you up.” you muse.
you teasingly slip one hand underneath his shirt to caress his toned stomach, and he hisses out a curse. with how strict you are about road safety, one would assume that you would restrain on being frisky while riding a vehicle thirty times more dangerous than a car. you either have too much in trust your boyfriend or you underestimate your effect on him.
in his case, double the thirty.
the engine roars to life and the wheels screech against the concrete road. your gentle touch turns into a bruising grip on his waist.
jungkook thinks that you might be right. he would never miss an opportunity to feel your skin on his skin. he selfishly decides then and there— he now prefers motorycle rides with you.
it doesn’t take you long to catch up to that fact. when he tells you wear something comfortable, you also know not to spend too much time doing something cute with your hair because the helmet will just turn it into a tousled mess. for the past two months, he has been calling you every night to ask whether you want to be picked up from work with the bike or the car, because as much as you both relish in the thrill and the wind and the intimacy, sometimes you fall asleep on the way home from exhaustion and he doesn’t want you… quite literally falling on the streets of seoul.
but today is your day-off, and with your head hanging from the edge of the bed, you tear your attention away from your phone to find jungkook is upside down. he stands outside the bedroom door hugging your rainbow hello kitty plushie to his chest, frowning woefully with a cause you are clueless about.
the contrast of his black t-shirt with the rainbow makes you crack a smile, reminiscent of the countless memes you’ve seen on the internet. you find it funny, but mostly endearing. because you’re the one who loves colors but dreams of nightmares, while he loves dark colors but dreams of stars, fairies, and soaring through skies and different dimensions. you don’t believe in fate. however, jungkook believes that it was fate that brought him to you, and that you are the person he is destined with. you don’t believe in fate, but you wholeheartedly, unequivocally believe in him.
“i was watching the news-” he huffs, seemingly perplexed. “why is everyone breaking up all of a sudden?”
“who broke up?”
he freezes, attempting to recall the names that flashed across the television screen only minutes ago. “i honestly don’t know them, but still!”
“then why are you pouting?”
he doesn’t answer. instead, he carelessly tosses the plushie on the bed before climbing on it, sneaking his arms between your torso and the mattress to engulf you in a bone-crushing embrace. your phone slips away from your grip, buried somewhere in the sheets, but when big bundle of love and warmth is over you, it’s impossible to be consumed by anything else.
you weave your fingers through his hair, whispering teasingly. “scared of being in the headlines too?”
“scared…” he agrees, then he doesn’t. “of losing you.”
he scoots closer to nuzzle his face against your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.
“i-it’s just,” he pauses. “ah, i don’t know! nevermind, forget it.”
“no, tell me. it’s okay.” your hands cup his cheeks, coaxing him to look at you. “tell me what’s bothering you. whatever it is. i’ll listen.”
there’s a glint of melancholy on his glassy eyes, and you desperately want to know what brought forth this pain so you can take it all away. your heart shatters when his nose scrunches into a sniffle, skin becoming more flushed, a shade of red that dusts his skin only when he cries.
“when couples break up after a long time… many of them say…” he trails off, held back by uncertainty.
“they say?” you urge him to continue, pretending to be absorbed in fixing his hair— running your fingers through the soft locks, rearranging his bangs, trying to see if they’re long enough to be tucked behind his ears— all in an indulgent effort to show him that this type of conversation doesn’t need to be awkward or intense.
“they say that… that they just woke up one day and- and realized they were no longer-” his lips curve into a frown, deeper than before, and you mirror him without knowing. “happy, or in love.”
he breathes shakily, avoiding your eyes to gather himself together.
fuck, jeon jungkook. man up! are you seriously going to cry right now? like this?
“and we’ve been together for five years.”
“almost five,” you correct him with a sweet smile, poking his soft cheek right where one of his dimples would be. “our anniversary is right around the corner.”
the unadulterated joy you radiated as you spoke those words makes the trepidation in his brain glitch.
“sorry, i couldn’t help myself. please continue.”
he licks his lips, and then opens his mouth but- “i’ve lost my train of thought.”
“oh my god, i’m sorry.”
“for what?”
“you were talking about something serious.” you wince guiltily.
“our anniversary is something serious too!” he points out, pouting cutely.
“yes, but… it’s a different story, breakups are- jungkook! why are you suddenly laughing?!” you sputter, shoving him away in annoyance when you hear a snort in the midst of his uncontrollable giggles. “what’s so funny…? you were just so close to crying!”
he shakes his head profusely, collapsing over you, but he ends up rolling over to the side so he can lie on his back and clutch at his aching belly.
“ah, ____! my heart fluttered when you mentioned our anniversary. i totally forgot what i was talking about!”
if it fluttered earlier, now it goes absolutely wild in his ribcage.
your positions are switched before he can comprehend it— you’re now on all fours on top of him. his head is trapped in between your arms and your gold necklace is dangling over his face and you’re straddling his lap and now it’s getting harder to breathe and not picture obscene images that involve you worshipping his body.
he probably likes this way too much than he cares to admit.
“do you see it now?”
he purses his lips, obviously distracted, controlled by his desire for you as he finds the curves of your waist to caress. “see what?”
“that you don’t need to be anxious about us not being happy in the future, because we’re happy right now.”
he cannot detect an ounce of hesitation even if he tried. you are steady. you are sure. something intangible and inexplicable floods your souls when your eyes meet, but the two of you know that it exists and it is real.
“fuck… i love you. i fucking love you so much.” his voice borders on a growl, and a whimper escapes your lips just before they crash against his for a kiss so full of passion that it completely catches you offguard. he pulled you down so swiftly that your hands anchored on the bed scrambled for his forearms to break your fall, nails digging into his skin as you balance yourself.
jungkook isn’t much for words, but something in him always wants more. he likes to speak with his tongue in a way so sweet that it compels you to abandon your vocabularies in the farthest back of your mind.
you sit down on his lap breathless after making out. your boyfriend watches you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slipping his hands underneath his head as he cockily grins in satisfaction.
you roll your eyes at the sight of his biceps being shamelessly flexed. “bastard,”
“bastard you’re crazy about,”
“unfortunately,” you sigh with faux disappointment, hugging the hello kitty plushie you picked up from the floor.
“want to go for a ride?”
“to where?”
“anywhere,” he shrugs. “it’s already late so there shouldn’t be traffic anymore.”
you jump off the bed without another word, returning a minute later clad in a black harley davidson jacket. you look so fucking chic and attractive in it, he always pats himself on the back for buying it for you.
jungkook would go against all laws of the universe if it meant spending a hundred more almost five years with you, until the hello kitty plushie you’re still hugging becomes gray and unrecognizable.
“babe, why are you still staring at me like that? i’m ready!”
from the entrance, jungkook discerns your familiar figure pacing back and forth across your designated parking spaces. you appear to be engrossed in your phone as you nibble on your thumb, which he knows to be a tell-tale sign of your anxiety. you just got your nails done, and for the first three days, you’re usually very conscious of messing them up.
you fail to notice the loud presence of his motorcycle, not until he has successfully parked and pushed down its side stand on the ground.
“baby! what are you doing out here?”
he lifts off the helmet, ruffling his hair to tame it. and as he brushes his stubborn bangs away from his eyes, that’s when he sees his lover overcome with distraught.
his heart drops to his stomach.
your eyes are filled with unshed tears, chin trembling with the struggle of holding them back.
“jungkook!” you wail out his name, and you haven’t cried this loud since you were sixteen.
an unnamed neighbor walks by the scene and says to theirself, somebody must’ve died.
“yah- why? why, why, why?” he stumbles over his own words in panic, carelessly hanging the helmet on one of the handles of the motorcycle as he gets off. “what’s wrong? baby? what happened?”
you hide your face in the palms of your cold yet clammy hands, ashamed by the surge of your emotions flooding the parking lot as acid rain, but a sense of safety blankets you when jungkook gingerly tugs you towards him.
“i thought something bad happened to you! a car hit a motorcycle nearby- and i thou- i really thought-”
“oh, that’s right! how did you know?” he gasps. “i passed by them earlier. there were so many people and police officers.”
“jungkook!” you snap, hitting his chest in frustration.
“sorry- i’m sorry! okay, that was insensitive of me- fuck.” he rambles, and you visibly cringe when his glove-clad hands touch your face.
the texture, and only god knows all the places it’s been…
“there’s no need to cry, baby! i’m already here, aren’t i? i’m so healthy. there’s not a single scratch on me.”
he hastily takes off his jacket to reveal himself in a white sleeveless shirt. spotless that it looks brand-new.
“see? all good!“
you fall silent. your eyes frantically scan his body, but your brain doesn’t really register anything that you perceive.
“aigoo, why are you shaking so much?”
he can’t bear to watch you in this state. he feels nauseous, almost, like his gut is being twisted and wrung in different ways.
“my baby must’ve been so worried about me, is that right? come here.”
in the solace of jungkook’s embrace, wrapped in his strong arms that are, praise heavens, not broken, the pounding of your heart gradually returns to normal.
his, however, becomes louder. and these days he likes to believe that he is no longer the crybaby he once was, but his skin feels flushed as tears fills his eyes, because damn, what a blessing it is to be loved by you.
he leans on the motorcycle, lovingly rocking you back and forth with shushes and soft hums.
time flies by when you are floating, but jungkook is patient as he waits for you to land and come home to him, even when his feet have fallen asleep.
“you haven’t forgotten your promise?” you whisper.
“never not wear a helmet,” he coos, pressing his lips to your temple. “of course i haven’t forgotten.”
“good,” you mumble, drawing back. “go home and shower. you’re all so sweaty.”
“i will. i feel so sticky.” he chortles. “this is so annoying. i hate summer!”
you continue to cling to jungkook all the way to the apartment unit, arms circled around his torso and soft cheek smushed against his back. snuggling him from behind like a koala does a tree is a newly-discovered joy. and if you were single you would be rolling your eyes at a person for saying this, but it is quite wonderful to have a boyfriend for a pillow that is also a blanket. has anyone invented that?
“you know, i regret not getting a motorcycle earlier.”
“why?”
the door opens with a short jovial jingle as a signal.
“i saw someone with a puppy in a basket this morning. it was even wearing goggles! it was really cute!” he laments, dragging you along with him into the living room. “ah, i’m an idiot. why didn’t i think of that? we could’ve done that with bam!”
you form the mental image of tiny baby bam wearing tiny goggles and a tiny leather jacket, and then another, but with the current bam.
“but bam is already as big as the bike!” you dissolve into laughter.
jungkook grunts, and you can’t tell whether he’s genuinely feeling this regretful or he’s just trying to distract you after you broke down with the mind-numbing anxiety of losing him forever.
“exactly!”
you sink into the couch, instinctively reaching for the hello kitty plushie to hug. meanwhile, he begins stripping off his shirt.
“it’s not even possible at all now!”
“but i do want to see him wear goggles…” you say in jest, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your shorts. “should i look for one?”
wait, what do you even type for it? dog goggles?
“i found them. there are helmets, too.” you gasp, covering your mouth as an epiphany hits you. “the puppy wasn’t wearing a helmet?”
driven by curiosity, jungkook sits next to you as you search for the item online. he is practically naked, left wearing only his black calvin klein boxers.
“oh,” he pauses. “now that you mention it, the puppy wasn’t wearing one.”
“how are you still sweaty?” with your thumb, you wipe the bead of sweat threatening to enter his eye. “go shower first.”
he manages to sneak a chaste kiss to your wrist before it becomes out of reach.
“before that, i need to tell you something.”
you bob your head, encouraging him to speak out, but the longer you maintain eye-contact with him, the faster his impulsive courage melts into a puddle of nervousness.
marry me.
marry me.
“baby…”
“yes?” you half-smile. “what is it? you’re starting to scare me.”
marry me.
when i see the future, i only see you.
“i love you.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
5K notes · View notes
scap34 · 12 days
Text
sugar baby!toji x rich! dom! mean! sadistic! manipulative! male! Younger! sugar daddy!reader
Turning your contract fuck buddy into your sugar baby <3
warnings: degrading, cussing, fingering, mild daddy kink, slight feminization, lingerie
Toji was getting too close to you. 
Maybe it was how you fucked him. Your sadistic nature shining through when you edged him for hours and fucked him roughly after. Or the way you treated him. 
Of course you did treat him like he was yours. But you also pampered him, petted his head, and sang praises into his ears until he came. 
The more he was with you, the more spoiled and lazy he got. With you, all he had to think about was how to please you. Sometimes after you played with him for hours he’d forget everything, acting exactly like the brain dead cock whore you called him. 
The money with you was stable. You paid him well, too well maybe. You also covered all his expenses when you were together. When he was with you, he had no worries. 
But he couldn’t always be with you. 
“I quit.” He said suddenly to you. You and him were sitting on the couch. The tv was on, playing one of those ridiculous horse races Toji liked to gamble on. 
Your hands paused typing and you looked over at him. He looked back at you, seriously. His legs were up and he rested against the couch comfortably. 
He was fond of the couch, you knew that. That’s why you’d brought a new couch. It was just for him and you would even work next to him to make sure he had company. 
“You quit?” You repeated back confused. He nodded, uncharacteristically serious. You knew he could be serious but with you, his coldness fell away. You thought you were past this point already.
“Why?” You asked.
He shrugged. “I’m bored.” He wasn’t. You could tell. You could see it in the way his eyes flicked away guiltily. He drummed his finger against his thick thighs. 
Cute. What a liar your baby was. 
“Okay.” You said agreeing. He immediately looked at you surprised by your quick agreement. You forced your lips to not move, suppressing a smirk. 
You nodded at him, copying his seriousness. “I understand. You can move out whenever you are ready. I’ll send the last check as soon as you leave.” 
His mouth parted in surprise and the hurt in his eyes was hard to hide. It was adorable. He was the one who wanted to leave and yet he was hurt by your agreement? 
He slumped a bit and nodded looking downcast. “Okay.” 
Poor baby. You cooed in your head. You wanted to take him into your arms and kiss his head. You wanted to tell him that you never cared about him and see his reaction. 
“Okay.” You echoed pleased. You turned back to your computer, fingers resuming work.  
Toji wanted you to protest but you nonchalantly agreed to let him leave. He thought you’d put a bit of resistance against his decision. However despite your initial surprise you agreed so readily. 
Despite wanting to leave, he couldn’t help but regret his decision. 
Whatever. He would be fine. After all you were just a good fuck that paid him well. He was sure he’d find something else.  …
“Who was that slut?” He demanded. You gave him an unimpressed look. Both of you could hear the note of pain in his voice. 
It’s been days since he quit. Days since he’d seen you and now he finds you shopping for that slut with the black card you used on him? Did you move on that quick?
“He’s my sugar baby.” You replied calmly. 
Sugar baby?
You smirked at his confusion. “Yeah, it’s like the contract between us, but instead of paying him, he lives with me, sleeps with me and I take care of all his needs.”
You what?
He immediately glared at you. “Why did you pick that slut?” 
You moved closer to him. Inches away from him, he could smell your coconut shampoo. A dazed look crossed his eyes for a second. He missed your scent. 
Your lips tugged into a smirk, immediately noticing his reaction. “I thought he was cute.” 
Cute? He did look more feminine. Blond hair, soft features and doe eyes. Was he your type? Did you like that slut more than him?
“I thought he’d look really pretty dressed in lingerie.” You added thoughtfully, tapping a finger against your chin. 
He almost regretted not killing the slut when he saw him. He should have. Torn his limbs off and asked you how pretty the slut looked then. 
“No.” 
“No, what Toji? This isn’t your decision.” You grinned cruelly. Your words were targeted and made to hurt. 
He was sorry, okay? So stop being so cruel. 
“M’ sorry.” He mumbled out. His head was hanging low. His hands uselessly clenched into fists. He couldn’t brute force his way through his. 
“And what should I do about that?” You said smirking. Toji looked at you betrayed. Didn’t he already admit his mistake?
“Take me back.” He muttered under his breath. You smirked like that was what you expected him to say. 
“I have a few conditions.” He gulped at your words. Your tone sounded wrong and there was a cruel smile on your lips. But he knew he’d agree to anything you said. He needed you. He missed you. 
“You will be my sugar baby.”  …
You’re a manipulative piece of shit. Toji realized as he hissed. Hands desperately clutched the sheets, his face was burned with heat. His throbbing cock begged for attention, hitting his stomach each time you thrusted that damn toy in his ass. 
You had everything planned out didn’t you? You’d used that fucking blond slut to make him jealous. And now you had him exactly where you wanted him. 
Face down on your bed, hips raised up, exposing his hole, and all dolled up in red lingerie for you. Lingerie that he wore because you liked it when he was dressed all pretty for you.
He choked out another moan when you rubbed his cock, rubbing it slowly before you let go again. 
“F-fk yu, fuckin’ a-ah!” He slurred out, crying out as you shoved the toy further into his hole. His body trembled, his cock pathetically leaking drops of precum. 
“What were you saying slut?” Your voice stern laced with traces of amusement. A hand roughly smacked his ass, sending a jolt up his spine. 
His mind filled with pleasure as he let out a sob into the mattress, clenching the silk sheets with a white knuckled grip. His cock was so fucking hard. Everything you did to him only made him harder. 
He could barely think. The plug pressed against his prostate, driving him crazy. You were a sadistic bastard. 
Another slap to his ass knocked him out of his trance. This one was aimed a bit lower, right against the plug. He cried out louder, cock spurting out watery white cum. 
His knees gave out as soon as his third orgasm in 2 hours hit. 
Too blissed out, he didn’t notice when you pulled out the plug, and turned him around. 
He didn’t move, keeping his legs spread, eyes closed,and cheek pressed to the mattress. 
A second passed then another. You sighed and moved away from him. His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at you in confusion. His eyes went to your hard cock that strained against your zipper. 
He looked up at you, confused. You didn’t acknowledge him and used a few tissues to clean him up. Tossing them away you draped a blanket over him. 
This is what you did after you were done with him, and yet you still hadn’t come once. You were clearly still hard. Why weren’t you fucking him?
Was he really not enough for you? The thought was like a bucket of cold water that poured over him. The orgasmatic bliss he’d been floating in, disappeared, throwing him back to reality. 
He disappointed you. 
You were walking away from him. A whine left his throat before he could think. He got off the sofa, his legs weak but stable. 
“[Name],” he bit his lip. “D-daddy p-please.” He called out, a pink flush in his cheeks. You froze in your steps. 
You turned around slowly, your eyes drinking in Toji’s lingerie and disheveled state with clear arousal. You liked him dressed like this. He hesitantly reached up and pressed his bra clad pecs together. 
Your eyes immediately zoned into the movement. 
He was right. 
Ignoring the burning blush of embarrassment he played with his chest, that way he’d seen you do it to him. He squeezed them, and rolled his nipple between his thumb and index, moaning when it sent heat straight into his cock. 
You’d covered his cock with the lacy red panties after he finished. His hardening cock, bulging against the soft fabric. The friction only intensified his arousal.
He panted softly, his exposed skin flushed with humiliation. He must have looked pathetic, dressed up like a slut. The feminine lingerie that barely covered his body, clearly wasn’t made for him. But under your lust blown eyes, he felt so fucking wanted.
“Fuck me, daddy. I want your cum in me.” He whined looking up at you with half lidded lashes. Like expected you fell for it.
Your face split into a grin. Taking two strides forward you closed the distance between you and him. Your hands roamed across his chest, squeezing his tits and ass. 
“Gladly.” You purred, fingers slipping into Toji’s loose hole. He sucked in a breath, a moan slipping from his lips. He eagerly grinded down onto your fingers, like he was scared he wouldn’t please you.
You licked his neck and smiled where he couldn’t see it. Your sweet baby. So pretty, and ready to please. You didn’t feel bad about manipulating him.
Dolled up in lingerie, playing with his large tits, cheeks flushed with shame. He looked so fucking erotic. So willing to do whatever it took to make you happy. 
You turned him around, hands on his small waist. He gasped but easily spread his legs, bending over obediently. Your smirk grew, as you lined your cock up to his entrance, pushing in and bottoming out. 
Your baby cried out, still sensitive from his last orgasm. You pulled out and thrusted back in without mercy. The sound of skin hitting skin mixed with both of your moans. 
“My perfect slut. So fucking pretty. Gonna make you my cock whore.” You muttered thrusting into him. Toji, already fucked stupid, eagerly nodded along. His useless cock, spilling beads of cum. 
“Yes, yes, your slut. Want your cum. Please pl’se.” he slurred out, gasping when you buried you hand in his hair and yanked it roughly. Tears bit the corner of his eyes, his expression was aggrieved. 
You chuckled and rubbed the head of his cock in apology. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head, small whines, pleas falling from his pink lips. 
Who were you to deny your beautiful baby anything? 
You fucked into his tight ass, his greedy hole clinging to your cock as you pulled out even slightly. 
“P’ease plea-hic,” he sobbed. “M’ w’nna cum, please.” You thrusted into him harder, holding his waist. Your own orgasm building up. Your baby wanted you to use him, so you will.
When you finally cum, Toji collapses forward. His hole was leaking with cum, his body still trembling from his orgasm. 
You tucked your cock away, smiling when Toji’s eyes landed on your softened cock with delight. He was proud that he made you cum. A-fucking-dorable.
You couldn’t wait to spoil this man rotten. Your precious sugar baby.
1K notes · View notes
coryosbaby · 4 months
Text
Mascara || T. Riddle
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Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’
Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader
。.。 ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom
Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.
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Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.
The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.
The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.
You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.
He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.
You let out a breath of air.
You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.
“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”
His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.
To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.
He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.
“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”
Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.
“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.
“Don’t.”
You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.
“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”
It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.
“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”
“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”
“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”
His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.
“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”
“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”
He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.
“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.
“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”
You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.
“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.
“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”
His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.
You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.
Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.
“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”
You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.
When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.
“Prepared, weren’t you?”
You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.
Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.
“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.
His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.
And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.
“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”
He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.
He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.
When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.
He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.
“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”
Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.
“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.
“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”
It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.
He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.
“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”
“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.
“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”
Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.
“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”
A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.
You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.
“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”
Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.
He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.
You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.
“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”
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novulen · 1 month
Text
𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓 — *:ꔫ:*
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A strong hold on your wandering hand stops you.
“Not here, sweetheart.” Nanami groans, gruff and utterly commanding. You feel yourself shiver involuntarily at his tone, body falling pliable in his hold in bitter defeat.
“But Ken…” you whine, your small, angry fists banging on his chest. “We haven’t done anything in weeks. You’ve barely even touched me.”
A drawn out sigh fills the expanse of Nanami’s office. Had you really come all this way, up two flights of stairs, for such a thing?
“We just can’t.” his hand reaches up to his temple, rubbing, and momentarily, his eyes flicker with sour jealousy.
But Nanami’s not stupid. He’s seen the way the men in the office stare at you–their gazes journeying the curves of your body as if you were on display. And, while he does put you up on a pedestal, men lusting over his wife is something Nanami doesn’t exactly find mirthful.
So, then why would he give them the opportunity to hear your sweet, sultry moans?
“My final answer is no, love,” his voice booms–a deep rumble that you feel ripple against your skin.
You frown. “I locked the door…”
Nanami shakes his head dejectedly. “Some of my colleagues have keys.” he hums, his chair turning towards his desk to resume his work, but you stop him.
With determination in your eyes, you place a delicate hand to his cheek.
Stroking his face, “Can I at least?..” you trail off, venturing your free hand down his sculpted body and rippling muscles to his belt. Your fingertips caress the expensive leather, waiting for a response.
Nanami exhales. You’ll really be the death of him.
“I–” he begins, his mind battling between right and wrong–morality or pleasure. But, surely, this wouldn’t hurt.
Right?
The slight nod he soon gave you was all you needed.
You start to undo the garment, succeeding and tossing it elsewhere. He stops you. “Under the desk.”
Swiftly and almost embarrassingly so, you comply, hissing as your knees make contact with the cold, ceramic flooring. Liquid heat and anticipation begins to bubble in your stomach, your mouth watering at the bulge poking through his khaki pants.
Slowly, you peel down his slacks and soon his boxers. His cock springs up, sturdy and excited, and your abdomen clenches fiercely.
“So big,” you mutter to yourself as you lean your head in to place kitten licks on his tip. Soft and supple against him, your hands twist around him, pulling out little whimpers from his lips.
“Mhm..take it all in, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s hips stutter upwards as you bob your head down his shaft, taking it in little by little. You gag as his protruding veins rub against your throat, the neatly trimmed hair at his base tickling your nose.
Breathing in heavily through your nose, fat tears swell in your eyes.
“Don’t back down now,” Nanami tilts his head, amused. His calloused thumb swipes at your tears, a bittersweet feeling of soft and rough against your skin.
Pleasure courses through the both of you. And although there’s no physical feeling for you, the satisfaction you get out of seeing Nanami finally wind down is just about enough.
Just.
Underwhelmed, you grind the balls of your feet against your core. Your shoes had been discarded long ago since you’d practically skipped into his office.
The moans you emit vibrate flush to his cock, a deep groan as his hands tangle in your hair.
“You—fuck, don’t do that,” he rasps, tugging your head backwards and watching as your tongue lolls out instinctively in an attempt to lick him. “I’ll be too loud.”
His cheeks flush a blush pink in realization…He’d just told you his weakness.
“Too loud, huh?” you grin, taking all of his girth in, purposefully humming around him. And it takes all of his strength not to cum right then and there—and he still fails.
Hot spurts of his seed flow into your mouth, bitter and warm on your taste buds and tongue. Nanami grips the armrest of his chair and swallows hard, head thrown back and mouth pressed into a tight line.
Through his orgasm, he still has the strength to order, “Swallow.”
And you do, proudly showing him your tongue after, clean of any residue.
Satisfied, you both take in a shared inhale. You stand to sit on his lap once again, humming into his skin. Silence as his fingers caress and he kisses your hair.
“Love,” Nanami breaks the silence, and you frown, knowing his next words. “I know, I know,” you interrupt, planting a chaste kiss to his lips as you get up and put your heels back on. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”
Tasting himself on his lips, he moans, albeit faintly.
Giving him a sultry smile and wave, you exit. Your heart almost jumps out of your chest when you turn around only to be met with a certain white haired person.
“Gojo, fuck,” you whisper under your breath, clutching your heart and things. ‘What are you doing…”
“The same could be said to you,” He grins and arches an eyebrow, pearly whites on display. “Coming out of Nanamin’s office like…this.” He sassily looks you up and down, referring to your unruly hair and wrinkled clothes.
You place a hand on your hip and look up at the freakishly tall man. “And just what do you mean by that?”
“Hm, nothing. I’ll just be going now,” He shrugs, giving you one last look before he begins to strut away from you. Confused by the whole interaction, you stand there, wondering.
“Oh, and…” Gojo turns around to face you again. “There’s something white on your top lip.”
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freedomfireflies · 4 months
Note
anything smutty for 404 🥺 maybe with some jealousrry or a breeding kink 🤭
How about both hehe
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“There you go…that’s a good girl. Deep breath for me, yeah? Gotta breathe, Tink, or I stop.”
“Har…Harry—”
“Uh-uh. What’s my name?”
“Harry—”
“No. What’s my fucking name?”
Your hands are trembling. Your legs are shaking. Your chest is heaving. And the nickname sits on the tip of your tongue, yet you swallow it down.
Lucas is only a few rooms over. Far too close for such a scandalous rendezvous, and you don’t imagine the sound of festive Christmas music will be enough to drown out your moans should you use the erotic moniker. 
However, when you don’t immediately obey his request, Harry’s hand comes down in a firm smack to your clit until you’re forced to choke back a shrill whine. 
“Say it,” he hisses, dipping down until all you see is him. “Say it, baby, or I’ll find someone who will.”
It’s a bluff, and you both know it. Even if he wanted to, he knows that nobody is gonna treat him the way you do. Nobody is gonna take his cock the way you do. And nobody is gonna put up with his fucking ego the way—
“Tink,” he warns again, long fingers curling around the base of your throat. “Do you really wanna test my patience? Do you really wanna make me stop? After you’ve been aching for it all day—”
“Who says I was aching for you, huh?” You pull your lips back into a soft smirk while he scoffs. “Lucas and I have been working all evening. Maybe I was thinking about him—”
“Bullshit.” The vile rejection is gritted between clenched teeth. “Bullshit, Princess, you don’t think about him. I know you. All right, I know this dirty, little pussy only weeps for me, yeah? S’why you begged me to fuck you even though he was right there.”
“I didn’t beg—”
“You fucking begged me,” he nearly seethes, accompanying his retort with a rather sharp thrust. “Practically took my cock out before we’d even left the room. ‘Oh, Harry, I need you so bad. Oh, Harry, fuck me against the window while it snows.’”
Your eyes narrow. “I didn’t…say…that,” you huff, leg hooking around his hip. “And you were the one coming onto me. Cause you were so jealous—”
He scoffs again, and it makes your insides twist. “Believe me, baby, I’ve got nothing to be jealous of.”
“No?” You grab a fistful of his hair. “Is that why you decided to stay here and help decorate after you heard him offer? Cause you’re not jealous?”
The look on his face nearly ruins you. And even from behind his glasses, you can see the insatiable hunger in his eye. 
“God, you’re such a fucking brat,” he sneers, tightening his hold on your hips before resuming his unrelenting pace. Thick cock stretching you open like it's the first time. “Fine. You want me to be jealous? Want me to say that I won’t share you with him?”
And even if he’s mocking you, the thought has your pussy clenching. 
“Maybe I don’t want to share you,” he continues, although a bit softer. As though speaking to himself. “Maybe I won’t. Won’t fucking share you with any of them.”
Your nails scrape down the back of his neck and he groans. A sound so beautiful, you swear you see the gates of heaven.
“Gonna fuck my cum so deep into this pussy…you have my baby,” he exhales. “So then he knows who you really belong to, yeah?”
And you don’t mean to, but you cry out his name as you brace yourself against the cold window.
“Is that what you want?” Another slap to your clit. “Wanna have my babies, Tink? Wanna carry me around? Wanna know that you own a part of me?”
You can’t think straight. Can’t fathom what he’s really saying to you, but it’s everything. Delicious and dirty and somehow, exactly what you need.
“Yeah? Oh, I know,” he nearly coos, and you feel his cock twitch. He’s close. “Then I’ll let you. Let you have my babies. Get you so pretty and pregnant. Make you mine—”
And you don’t mean to, you really don’t. But suddenly, you can see it. Can imagine having him in a way you never thought possible. Can see his hands on your stomach, can see him promising to take care of you. Be your only.
It’s quite un-Harry-like, and you suppose that’s what does it for you. Envisioning a life…with him. True partners. Equals.
“Ha…Harry,” you gasp before you’re cumming harder than you think you have in weeks. Flinging your arms around his neck in order to keep him as close as possible.
And he lets you, following soon after as you both grasp on to each other’s bodies and ride each other through the orgasm.
He’s beautiful. And he feels like heaven. It’s all you can truly comprehend as the warmth spreads through your cunt and makes a home in your pussy. As he keeps it there even long after you’ve both come back down.
You’re tempted to wonder if Lucas heard you but decide rather quickly that you don’t care. You wouldn’t care if the whole goddamn building heard you cum for him. If they knew what you and Harry really did after you’d snuck away from the decorating party.
And something tells you…he wouldn’t, either.
“That was…nice,” you finally whisper, pressing your cheek to his shoulder.
You feel him smile against your temple. “Yeah.”
“Kind of romantic, too. With all the Christmas lights and whatnot.”
“And the snow,” he adds.
“Yeah, and the snow,” you agree, smiling gently. “I’m never letting you live that down, by the way.”
“Live what down?”
“Oh, you know,” you hum, leaning back just enough to glance up. “The part where you’re so jealous, you want me to have your babies just to prove a point.”
True to form, his eyes roll, but he can’t seem to fight his smile. “Yeah, well…maybe I wasn’t kidding.”
“Oh, really?”
He nods once, touch dancing down the back of your neck. “Did you really think I was letting you leave without my cum still sitting inside this sweet, little cunt, Princess?”
Your lashes flutter. 
“Want you to walk back in there with him while I’m inside of you,” he murmurs, and it’s almost dark the way he speaks. Tempting.
Then, he pulls out…and lowers.
“Want you to think about me while you’re looking at him,” he says, eyeing your pussy with a certain fervor before his fingers are pushing the creamy offering back in. “Want you to feel me all goddamn night. Want you to go home and watch it drip out of you.”
Your head falls back against the window as he glances up.
“Want you to fuck yourself with it,” he whispers, and your chest nearly caves in. “Think you can do that for me, baby?”
You can hardly speak around the whimper stuck in your throat, choosing instead to nod fervently. “Yes.”
“Promise, Tink?”
“Yes…yes, Daddy.”
And he grins bigger than he has all day.
“That’s my girl.” 
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Hehehe this is fun!!
The next holiday blurb is for Mine, and it's coming tomorrow!! THANK YOU FOR READING 😭💞💞💞
~ Full 404 Masterlist
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @nuggetdean @princessprongs
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nnight-dances · 11 months
Text
REPETITION / RARE LOVE
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pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)
genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content
tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting
warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.
WHAT TO EXPECT
it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)
OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.
SEQUEL OUT NOW!
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“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.
“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”
you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”
mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”
“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.
you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”
“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”
you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”
you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”
“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”
“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”
you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”
“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”
“i don't want an answer.”
“…”
"because i'm going to move on from him!"
"..."
“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”
“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”
“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.
yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”
you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”
“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”
“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”
yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”
you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”
“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”
“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”
you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.
“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”
“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.
“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”
you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”
“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”
“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”
jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”
you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”
he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”
“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”
you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”
“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”
you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”
five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.
he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.
“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”
“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”
“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”
you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”
time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”
“zuha, hi! did you—”
“yep, i got your lip gloss.”
you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”
mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”
kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”
“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”
“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”
“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”
“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”
“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”
mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”
“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”
you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”
“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.
“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”
“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”
mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”
you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”
“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.
“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”
kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”
jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”
“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.
swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—
you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”
he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”
you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”
you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”
“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”
“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”
“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”
you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”
the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.
as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”
mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”
“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”
he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”
“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”
he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”
an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.
the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.
big gyu: u look good
big gyu: kinda basic tho
you: yea i thought so too
you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.
candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.
however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.
you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”
you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.
“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”
you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”
“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”
jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”
you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”
“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”
“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.
big gyu: niceee thats hot
big gyu: u should get this dress
big gyu: pls
big gyu: pls
you: …girl why are u begging me
big gyu: because.
big gyu: you’re getting this dress right
you: no i’d die of overheating in it
big gyu: and it’d be worht it
you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...
you: wtv this one's rejected.
you: i still have another dress to try
you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.
“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”
you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”
“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”
“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”
mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”
“ugh, alright, give me five.”
in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.
“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”
you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”
“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”
“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”
his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”
you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.
“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”
jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.
“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”
“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”
you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”
he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.
as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.
entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.
you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.
you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”
“can i talk to you for a sec?”
you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”
“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”
“but, the others—”
“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”
out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.
you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”
you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”
“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”
you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.
you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”
you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”
sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”
you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.
the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.
sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.
the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.
you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.
his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.
“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”
you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”
mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”
you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”
mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”
“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”
he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”
“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”
she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”
you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.
“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"
“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”
he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”
you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”
“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”
“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”
“who’d be the father then?”
your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.
“did something happen between you two?”
“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”
mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”
you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”
“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”
“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.
you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”
after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.
“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”
“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”
“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”
“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”
“don’t be like that, y/n.”
“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”
mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)
“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”
“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”
“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”
mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"
“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”
he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”
you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”
“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”
“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”
he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”
you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”
“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”
“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”
“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”
“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”
“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”
“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.
mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”
you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”
“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”
“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”
hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”
the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?
hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”
hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”
“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”
he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”
you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”
“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.
“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”
hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”
“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”
“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”
you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.
he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”
you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”
ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.
it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.
that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.
but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.
“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”
“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”
he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.
“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.
“you’re right. routine is good for people.”
“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”
“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.
“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”
he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”
“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”
“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”
your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”
“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.
“do you ever think we should be more?”
mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”
“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”
it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.
if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.
“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.
you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”
mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”
“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”
“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”
it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.
“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”
this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”
“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”
you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”
“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”
mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.
you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)
he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”
“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.
“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.
as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.
his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.
so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”
you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.
he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.
“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.
“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.
he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."
mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.
it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.
he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.
it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.
the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.
space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”
mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.
“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”
“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.
maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”
jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”
“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.
“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.
the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.
or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—
you. you’re here.
almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.
when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.
mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.
he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.
“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”
mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.
“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.
you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.
“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”
jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.
but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”
the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.
that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.
you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.
“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.
you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.
you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”
he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”
you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”
“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.
“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”
when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.
mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”
but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.
“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”
“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.
you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.
but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”
when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”
and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.
but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.
you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.
“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.
“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”
“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.
jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”
“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”
“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”
“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”
you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.
suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.
your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.
you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.
he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”
you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”
you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.
his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”
mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”
of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.
so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.
“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.
that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.
you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”
ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.
back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”
“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”
“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”
“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”
you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”
“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.
“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”
you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”
mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”
you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”
with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”
you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”
suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.
you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.
anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!
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arthur-r · 2 years
Text
does anybody know some good attributes about myself that colleges would like that are true and real. it’s for telling my teacher so he can best do a letter of recommendation but i don’t know what to do because i’m not a great student and also don’t want to brag
#my instinct is always to say i’m good with seven year olds but that’s irrelevant in this context#and other than that idk. i have written down that i’m passionate for my interests and do a lot of independent research#but that’s a fancy way of saying i’m autistic and overly invested in my special interests shdhddf#so um. are there any attributes that aren’t just autism and caring for a child half the time#nobody has to come up with anything i know it’s weird and difficult i just want to send an email by tomorrow#saying it’s due november 1st and attaching my resume (1 year of pizza experience and a summer of babysitting. not that impressive)#(*paid babysitting. like i said before i do a lot of compulsory parenting. but not really the same)#and then i have to say what things i want him to highlight about me and i don’t know what to say for that at all#i cant pretend to be attentive i slept in his class. i cant pretend to be motivated i didn’t even turn in my final#and i’m struggling to find things that are good enough about myself to use them in such an important context#like. there needs to be something about me that colleges will care about!!!! that’s terrifying!!!!#and it’s university of wisconsin-madison and i’m so scared. i only get one chance to do it right#and i’m so scared cause my irl friends are applying there and they’re so much more likely to get in than i am#and i don’t even know if i want to be at the same college as any of them but i don’t want to be the only one without a choice#and i’m scared. this is steadily turning into a vent post instead of an advice post i am so sorry#but um. any attribute words that are like. good?? tried the general characteristics section of roget’s and got distracted#it’s not my fault that the thesaurus is so cool. but yeah that’s when i took attentive off the list shdhdf#idk. i like to read and i like to learn and that’s the best things i can think of about me in this context. but that’s not a lot to go on#so help is appreciated. but also not required. thanks in advance#thanks so much sorry for being difficult lately. ok have to put my sister to bed i’ll be back in a bit#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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bkgml · 1 year
Note
i absolutely LOVE your works!! could you write about y/n and bakugo having a argument and y/n sleeping on the couch? i dont mind if its gonna be a sad or happy ending ;D
(feel free to ignore this ask!)
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WOOOO I GET SUCH A BOOST WHEN PPL COMPLIMENT MY WORK is that shallow idk but like even if it is you can’t blame me 😚
“leave me alone katsuki.” you frown, tears in your lash line as you walk into the kitchen.
“stop acting like a child yn.” he calls after you.
you stop before inhaling sharply to regain your composure. you’re not in the mood to argue, you had a really long day today and you just wanted to cuddle katsuki and go to bed.
you continue walking to the fridge so you can make dinner.
“now you’re fuckin ignoring me? it was one date.” he says coldly.
that pushes you over the edge. whipping your head to glare at him.
“one date?! katsuki you’ve missed 15 dates. you’re constantly prioritizing me over your job and i get left behind to pick up the pieces. i’m sick of it!!” you scream.
he walks toward you, caging you into the counter and you frown because you know what he’s looking for.
“you can’t kiss me and expect this to all go away katsuki. it’s happened too many times!” you frown, pushing him away.
he lets you, taking the hint.
“you know i need to go into work when they call me, you’re being selfish!” he yells and slams his hand on the countertop.
you jump away from him and your eyes fill with tears.
“don’t yell at me.” you frown.
“i’m gonna go to bed. i don’t want dinner.” you mumble, rushing past him to go to the family room.
“you’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“don’t tell me what to do!!” you snap.
he purses his lips and turns to leave.
“i’m sleeping on this couch before you decide to do the proper thing and apologize like an adult.” you call after him.
his fists clench and he stoms into the bedroom.
you force yourself to sleep. you’ve forgiven him way too many times.
katsuki lies awake in his room. counting how many minutes have passed without you coming to bed. he didn’t know you were this mad, he wants to spend time with you so badly. unfortunately hes trying to save up for the perfect ring and has taken on too many shifts. hes hoping he hasn’t fucked up bad enough for you to leave him.
at that thought, he makes his way to the living room. peeling back the warm blankets in exchange for the cold air of a girlfriend-less night.
he finds you in a light sleep on the couch.
“baby.” he says, brushing your hair out of your face.
“baby come to bed please? ‘m sorry.” he says, lowly.
your eyes flutter open and you frown at him.
“i said im not coming to bed, suki.” you pout.
he grunts in frustration.
“fine.” he says, standing.
you think he’s on his way back to bed so you shut your eyes once again.
only to feel your body get crushed by his weight.
“katsuki.” you groan, trying to shove him off.
“not moving.” he says while wrapping his strong arms around your waist.
“i’m not done being mad at you.” you whisper into the silence.
he removes his arms in favour of pulling up your shift to press soft kisses to the spot on your tummy that sends butterflies to flutter around your stomach.
“i know.” he replies in between kisses.
“but i’m done with you being mad at me.” he says while putting your shirt down over his head.
you sigh, attempting to pull the shirt back up so you can see his face.
he doesn’t let you though, preferring to nose at the soft part of your tummy.
“i know you’re hiding a blush under there.” you say.
“no you don’t.” he replies, resuming his kisses.
“alright.” you say softly.
he pops his head out now, thumbs starting to rub circles into your hips.
“hm?” he questions.
you sigh before reaching to cup his cheek.
“i forgive you,” you mumble and he smiles softly, leaning into your palm.
“i guess.” you grin and he bites your hand.
“ow! don’t push your luck.” you frown.
“sorry,” he mumbles.
“i guess.” he says and your grin drops.
he cackles loudly before standing and throwing you over his shoulder.
you laugh with him and bite his waist.
“hey.” he grunts and throws you on the bed.
you giggle and open your arms.
he shuffles up until his entire body weight is on you and his face is in your neck.
“don’t sleep on the couch ever again.” he mumbles, lips grazing your neck giving you shivers.
“don’t do dumb shit ever again.” you mumble back and he frowns.
“said i was sorry.”
“i know.” you smile, brushing his hair off his forehead and pressing a lingering kiss to his skin.
he hums in content as his eyes flutter shut before he falls asleep.
“miss another date and i’ll fucking kill you.” you whisper.
his eyes snap open.
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ham1lton · 11 days
Text
i’m with the band.
pairing(s): lando norris x singer!reader
warnings: v slightly angsty? but happy ending.
summary: pop band CHANGE! has just released their anticipated third album; however, fans notice that the songs seem to tell an unsavory story….
author's note: i didn’t know whether u wanted me to do a happy song or sad but i like drama. i refer to y/n’s bandmates by their roles. so guitarist, bassist and drummer so you can add their names in! also this album is loosely based on SAWAYAMA and 5sos’s album youngblood. listen to them both if u haven’t!! incredible albums. if you can name all these songs that have been mentioned then MWAH!!! 😍
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liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 3,388,728 others.
changeband: thank you so much to the best, coolest and awesomest fans in the fucking planet. shoutout to everyone who showed up to our listening party in philly last week! you were metal as hell and we loved meeting everyone of you. no more fomo for the rest of you all now that our newest album is now out! please stream and buy and recommend to your friends and family and colleagues and even that annoying neighbour that everyone hates. we love you and we love this album!! here are some behind the scenes pics of us making and brainstorming this baby!
user1: this album is sooo good!
user2: ooh y/n got her masters in cuntology with a concentration in motherlogical studies from the university of servington… that NOTE in dynasty??? oh goddddd.
-> user4: DYNAAAASSSSTTTTYYYY 🗣️🔊
user3: the casual photo dump like they haven’t released the album of the CENTURY?
user8: you guys have come such a far way from working minimum wage and having to pool money for a recording booth omg. i’m so proud of you guys 🥺
*liked by changeband.*
user5: the way guitarist is eating this album. whoever greenlit her guitar solos i want to kiss them on the mouth.
user28: bad friend is my fav! both the acoustic vers and the normal vers!! PUT UR HANDS UP IF UR NOT GOOD AT THIS STUFF!!!! 😍😍
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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 278,727 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: girl band CHANGE! have released their new album ‘babylon’ and it has sent twitter in flames after the first tweet (pictured above) went viral. especially after the songs ‘lie to me’ and ‘want u back’ both contain lyrics that have sent fans of the power couple lando norris and y/n l/n spiralling. what do you all think of the drama ham1ltons?
user1: i do think it’s slightly suspicious… not necessarily a break up confirmation but it’s interesting. especially as she didn’t even bother to confirm or deny whether or not they’re still together on jimmy fallon….
user2: why do we speculate into these celebs lives? if they broke up, who cares and if they’re together… who cares?
hater1: who gives a fuck. she can’t even sing.
-> user3: you clearly gaf if you’re commenting under y/n related posts???
loveislanduk: don’t worry y/n! if need be, you can always find a new man on the island!
-> user98: messy asf 😭
user6: is tkl supposed to be y/n talking about how lando was super adored and that although he could have any girl, she’d be the only one who really loved him?
-> user4: tokyo love hotel is a homage to drummer’s japanese heritage not a lando worship song?? also it’s a metaphor for their heritages as three of them are women of colour who grew up in the west and saw their cultures exoticised.
-> user6: ‘yeah your fascination is my world’. that could be interpreted as her saying ‘your obsession is my boyfriend’.
-> user4: girl yeah but that’d be a lazy one would it not? lando ain’t that special 😭 i think that it’s reductionist to make everything she writes about a man and not her.
user44: calling the album babylon after the bible story? maybe they started with the idea of creating this amazing relationship and then grew apart? they stopped speaking each other’s language?
-> user56: maybe you need to put this energy into analysing your resume and figuring out why you’re still unemployed….
user65: idc if she broke up with that troll because that’d mean drummery/n will thrive!!
-> user9: um… u mean guitaristy/n??
-> user34: both wrong. bassisty/n is the best version!!!
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CHANGE’S INTERVIEW W/ JIMMY FALLON (transcript)
JIMMY FALLON: welcome, everyone! we have a special treat for you tonight. please give it up for the current leaders of the world charts, the incredible band CHANGE!"
(audience applause as the girls take their seats)
FALLON: alright, alright! now, there have been some rumours swirling around about your latest album and its connection to some personal matters. especially in regards to y/n. care to shed some light on that?
Y/N: well, jimmy, first of all, thank you for having us. i’m aware that there have been some rumours, but you know how it is. people love to speculate. our music is definitely personal, and yeah, it does reflect some of what's been going on in my life but i want to set the record straight. the songs on our album are inspired by a variety of our experiences, including relationships, but they're not always directly about any specific individuals. sometimes i’m inspired by other forms of media or my loved ones’ experiences. that’s the joy of making art, it can be whatever you want.
DRUMMER: yeah, and y/n is such a talented songwriter. she has this incredible ability to channel her emotions into our music and make you feel whatever she wants.
BASSIST: exactly. we're just here to make music that connects with people, and if our songs happen to resonate with someone going through a breakup? then we've done our job.
FALLON: is it true that you’re performing two songs for us tonight? can you confirm which ones?
GUITARIST: yes! we’re performing ‘want u back’ and ‘frankenstein’. both of our newest singles from babylon.
FALLON: well, you heard them, folks! get ready for an amazing performance from CHANGE!
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liked by bassist, guitarist and 1,272,973 others.
yourusername: we’re fine y’all perfectly fine please don’t call paw patrol.
user1: OH THANK GOD.
landonorris: she’s lying. i’m in my lemonade era…🍋
-> user23: you wish you could be that iconic. you’re in your dogwater era.
-> landonorris: UNPROVOKED???
user3: we needed this confirmation.
user8: PARENTS AREN’T DIVORCED WE WON 🙌
landonorris: now can you release the bonus tracks please please please 🙏🏼 ‼️😩
-> bassist: no :)
-> guitarist: yes :)
-> drummer: one of them is lying… guess who and i’ll send the whole album plus excluded tracks.
-> landonorris: … um 😅 guitarist?
-> drummer: WRONG ‼️ but i’m scared you’re gonna complain to y/n so i’ll send them over to you 🙄
user27: at least we’re back to having lando being CHANGE!’s biggest fans. what did he think of ‘exile’?
-> yourusername: he cried so hard he threw up.
-> user27: real shit.
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taglist: @cuteskz @molten-m122 @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @k1arsworld @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria (let me know via ask if you’d like to be removed).
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lostgirlmuseum · 6 months
Text
Who the Hell is Daryl?
Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader
Words: 2k
Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
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He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. 
He was finally going to ask you out.
-----
To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.
The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.
The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him. 
“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”
He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle. 
You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him. 
“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena. 
His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.
I’m going to marry her someday.
He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.
Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck. 
After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings. 
You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.
He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.
“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.
“What’s up?”
“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”
“You got it, Doll.”
“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.
Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.
But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.
Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?
Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.
Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around 
You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?
Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful
You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘
Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?
Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set. 
So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?
Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.
Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.
You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.
“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.
“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.
“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”
With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.
Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.
He didn’t get much sleep that night.
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Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.
Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall. 
And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees. 
Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.
“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?” 
“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”
“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly. 
Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.
“Which friend?”
“Penny.”
So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.
He didn’t move from his bed.
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“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.
He couldn’t get himself to respond. 
The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.
“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”
“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.
A pause. 
“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light. 
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.
“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”
“Okay…”
He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him. 
“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”
He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.
“Where were you?” He asked.
You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this. 
“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.
Your eyes widened at his bite.
“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”
“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”
“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.
“I am!”
“Then who is Daryl?”
“What?”
“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.
“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.
“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.
“Call the number.” You simply said.
“What?” He repeated.
“Take my phone, and call the number.”
Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon. 
“Go ahead,” you urged.
He pressed the button. 
Ring.
Ring.
Ri—
“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”
“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.
“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”
“P—Penny?” He sputtered.
“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”
“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”
“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.
Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.
“I don’t understand.”
“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”
Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.
“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.
“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”
He nodded sheepishly.
“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.
“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”
“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.
He gulped.
“I was going to ask you to be with me.”
You tilted your head, not quite understanding.
“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”
“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"
"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.
"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.
He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.
“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.
Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.
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A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!
Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh
Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!
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