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#no one taking to time to understand what he wants but just erasing the parts of him that are inconvenient
horribleweasel · 4 months
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Babygirl did NOT deserve that
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aperrywilliams · 3 months
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From Now On (Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader.
Summary: After faking his death for seven months, Spencer is back just to find out you’re eight months pregnant. After the initial commotion and your denial, you both step into the apartment you used to share. Things have changed and you must talk about it.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Talking about gunshots, blood, hospitals, faking death, pregnancy symptoms, potential abortion. If I missed something, let me know.
A/N: I’m back! I don't know for how long, but I needed to do something to fight my writer's block. This story can be read independently, but it is the second part of Seven Months.
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The cab ride to your apartment is mainly silent. Your head is tucked into Spencer's shoulder as he rubs your back from time to time. His nose is buried in your hair, inhaling your scent. God, he had missed it so much. He had missed you so much.
And he missed so much of your life in the past seven months. And that scares the shit out of him.
How would he fit into your life now? Does he have any right after faking his death and not telling you anything?
Rossi and Morgan told him you would understand eventually. That you would forgive him for doing this to you.
And maybe you are really considering. Maybe that’s why you went for him to Derek’s in the middle of the night.
Spencer wants that more than anything, but he feels like he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.
Now you both are in front of your building complex. The one that used to be his too.
Spencer knows the concrete walls are the same, but they don't feel like they are.
It's a strange feeling. A feeling that gets stronger when you open the apartment door.
Stepping inside, he knows this is where he used to live, but it doesn't look the same.
The shelves are no longer full of his books. Gone is his globe and coins collection that usually laid over the desk. There are just a couple of pictures of him with you on the wall. The decoration is different. Did you paint the place? Spencer is almost sure of that because it looks brighter than he remembered.
He's silent, inspecting everything around him. The walls, the bookshelf, the furniture: all changed.
After you take off your coat and hang it on the rack, your eyes follow him.
You know what’s going on. You have known Spencer for so long. Even if you thought you lost him, you still can read him like a book.
“Hope isn’t look too bad. I needed to, you know, make some changes?” you explain, not sure how to put the last months in words. Spencer turns to look at you, guilt written over his face. He knows what your words imply and remorse eats him alive.
“I - I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sure it's not enough to erase the hell you have been through since he were gone. Since they told you he was dead.
“I know.” Your response is short but not because you don’t have things to say. It's because you don’t know how to start. “Uh. Would you like some tea?”
It's the safest path. The one you both usually have taken the times you had fought and then try to speak it off. It's different this time, though.
Spencer hesitates. In other circumstances, he would agree and sit on the couch to talk. But it's late, the day has been a rollercoaster and you are eight months pregnant. He knows you should be sleeping, or resting at the very least.
“Maybe it's better you go to bed? It's late and you must be tired,” he points, nervously fidgeting with his hands, his gaze shifts between your eyes and belly.
“Honestly? I don't think I could sleep tonight even if I try,” you confess, moving to the kitchen to put the kettle.
”I don't think I could sleep either,” he admits, following to the kitchen. He wants to help, but he doesn’t want to look like an intruder in your space. A space that it’s not his anymore. Noticing Spencer doesn't know what to do with himself, you invited him to take a seat on the barstool.
“It will be ready in no time, don’t worry.”
You are the one who endured months of grief from your fiancee, carrying his child, and you are the one comforting him. Spencer thinks it's not fair.
In silence, he looks with raptor fascination at the way you move around the kitchen. It's delicate and calm. You have a glow that captivates him. You don’t realize his gaze until you turn to put the mugs over the counter.
“What?” you question softly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, eyes entranced in you. You laugh, shaking your head.
“Come on, Spencer. I look like a mess. This belly reaches everything minutes before I can. It's huge! I can barely walk decently. Look at my hair! And my skin. It's sticky all the time.”
As you ramble about why isn’t accurate to call you beautiful, Spencer stands from the stool and rounds the kitchen counter to step in front of you. He wants to reach for your hands that you’re waving in the air to emphasize your point, but refrains. He’s still unsure about initiating physical contact. He rests his hands on the counter and clears his throat.
“I can certainly say it's not the way you are used to feeling. But the way I see you right now? I see beauty, power, and life. It's light what I see on you.”
You don’t know when tears started to roll down your cheeks. But hearing the adoration in Spencer’s words only spurs you to let out your emotions.
“You know my hormones have been doing a number on me, right? You’re not helping,” you complain, chuckling. After handing Spencer his tea, you take yours and walk to the living room.
You carefully sit on the couch and reach for the blanket in the back to cover your lower half. Spencer mimics your actions, sitting as well on the couch, but at a safe distance from you.
A silence envelops the room. Your hand plays with the strands at the end of the blanket, and your eyes scrutiny Spencer’s face. He looks tired, with prominent circles under his eyes, and stubble for days of no shaving.
He is analyzing you too. Even if your eyes denote exhaustion, he can see the strength that makes you look put together despite everything that has been going on.
He can see the protectiveness too. Rubbing your belly in soothing motions, shielding your non-born child from the unknown, the uncertain.
How much he would have given to be the one who could have protected you and the baby from the first minute.
“I guess you have questions,” you prompt. “But I have mine too, so if you don’t mind,” you trail off and Spencer understands what you want. He nods, preparing himself to answer whatever question you have. After a pause to collect your thoughts, you start to speak again.
“What really happened in that warehouse? Why you didn't let me go inside with you?”
You are talking about the day Spencer was shot and beaten for the unsub. The day he ended up at the hospital just to be declared dead hours after.
“I thought if we didn't split we could lose him. We were so close so many times. I thought it was our last chance. It never occurred to me it was a trap. That he wanted me there alone. I just didn't see it,” Spencer swallowed hard, remembering that day. You stayed in silence, waiting for him to continue.
“I heard his voice telling me he had you, and I panicked. So I ran to him. I let my guard down. When I realized he was lying it was too late.”
“But you launched at him. Why didn't you try to stall him first?” You asked, leaving your mug on the coffee table, feeling the suddenly urge to protect yourself with your arms around you. You never talked about what really happened with anyone. Not even to Hotch when he questioned you during the FBI investigation of the incident.
The way Spencer reacted with the unsub is something you never understood. The profile said the unsub was a guy who liked to show off, so trying to incite him to do that while waiting for backup would have been reasonable.
“The way he laughed. Maybe sounds stupid, but- I saw the resolve of an end game, and not like the typical bragging-end game, it was an evil-end game. He had the upper hand and he knew it. If I didn't do something first, he would have gone after you. And I couldn't let that happen. I didn't count on the hidden gun, though. Another mistake,” he breaths out.
You remember like it was yesterday rushing to the warehouse after hearing two gunshots. Once inside you saw Spencer lying on the floor, in a pool of blood.
“You were there and I didn't know what to do,” you recount your side of the story. “It was the worst nightmare. I screamed for help and it felt like an eternity before someone came to us. And your eyes-” You stop for a second, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “You - you were saying goodbye and I wasn’t ready.”
Your resolve from earlier seems to crumble as you revisit what happened in that warehouse. Tears are now rolling down your cheeks, and you bite your bottom lip to stop their quivering.
Spencer wants to hold you, but he’s afraid of how you would react, so tentatively rests his hand on your knee. You are shaking and he’s worried this conversation could do more harm than good.
“We can stop. You are not feeling okay,” he points out. But despite Spencer's apprehensions, this conversation must happen now.
“I need to get this out of my chest. Please, let me do this. I know you need it too.”
Spencer knows you are right. You both need this.
“Do you remember anything after the shots?” you ask, and Spencer thinks for a moment.
“I remember being there, the sharp pain in the chest and my ribs. But most of it is a blur. I remember seeing you there. Crying. God. I hated seeing you cry. I think you held my hand?”
You nodded. “I was so scared, but with you there, I wasn’t anymore. The last thing I remember it’s the guilt of not saying I love you for the last time. I really thought it was the end for me,” he admits, his own tears blurring his sight.
“It was for me, though,” you mumbled, a sad look in your eyes. “I mean, I still had hopes when you were moved to the hospital, but deep down I knew I shouldn’t have had them. And everything shattered when JJ came to the waiting room and told us you didn't make it.”
A heavy sigh escapes from Spencer’s lips. Neither JJ nor Hotch had told him how they let it know the team he was ‘gone.’
“I can’t even imagine - It was unfair to you. And I know no matter what I say it won’t make it better.”
Your thoughts wander to the moment after you heard JJ saying Spencer was dead.
Disbelief. Pain. Denial.
And then, days of numbness.
“You know. I just shut off. I have some flashbacks. Rossi hugging me; Hotch telling me to take all the time I needed; Morgan crying with me.”
It feels weird to recall those memories as yours, like an alternative universe that turned different at the end.
“Where did you go?” Spencer asks. The thought of you in the apartment alone after that breaks his heart.
“Emily took me to her place because I couldn't put a foot here. I stayed with her for a couple of days. She helped me a lot to get through this,” you recognize. And for that, you will always be grateful to her.
You also tell Spencer about how the whole team helped you to make it through the days. Some kind of relief washes over him knowing you didn't face it alone.
He can’t fathom how difficult it was for you, also knowing you were pregnant. And about that...
“When did you find out?” He asks, eyes darting to your belly. You follow his gaze trajectory and a little smile creps on your face.
“Almost a month later. I was feeling sick all the time. Emily pushed me to get checked. They took blood tests and stuff. When they told me I couldn't believe it. For me, it was a twisted joke,” you admit, hanging your head low.
Spencer dreads asking the next question but you already know what is, so you keep talking.
“Yes. I had thought about it. I didn't feel in a good place to be a mom, Spencer. I barely could make it through the days. And having a baby? Fuck, just thinking about it was too much.”
You tell him about how you cried your eyes out. How lost you felt for days. The doubts about the future, but above everything, the protectiveness that aroused in you once the idea settled. Yeah, you couldn’t keep Spencer safe, but you were determined to save the part of him growing in you.
“And seven months later, here I am. About to give birth to our baby,” you conclude, lovingly rubbing your belly.
“It’s weird, you know?” Spencer begins. “The last time I saw you and now. It feels like I lost time. And I know I lost it. It’s just - I never expected to see things so changed. I don’t know how I fit here. What I’m saying doesn’t make any sense right now-” he trails off, darting his gaze to the fidgeting hands on his lap.
He’s been holding back. You notice. Since you both crossed the threshold he has been afraid of invading your personal space, of touching you. Now it makes sense.
“That's why you have been keeping your distance from me?” you ask. Spencer’s eyes quickly flash to you. Guilt is written on his face.
“What?”
Your gaze soften seeing him so stressed by being caught. It's true the past months have been tough for you, but they have been tough for him too. And to see a before and an after so different probably has him reeling.
“Since we put a foot in this apartment you have kept a safe distance. I’m not judging you, I really don’t. I just want to know what’s on your mind right now,” you explain, shifting on the couch to change your position. With an eight-month belly is difficult to be comfy in any position.
Spencer sighs. There are so many things revolving inside his brain that it’s not easy to put them in words.
“When I woke up in a hospital bed in Bethesda, the first thing I looked for was if you were there. But I was alone. A strange feeling squeezed my chest. For a moment I thought -” he pauses to take a breath. “I thought everything had gone wrong and the unsub had hurt you or the team, or both. I was about to freak out when a marshal came and explained to me what happened.”
Spencer recounts how the agent told him about his new destination and how this assignment was for an undetermined time.
“Since then, not a single day passed without the urge to take a plane and come back. To you. But what if I messed up putting you at risk doing so? It was insane to know I was dead for you and I couldn't do anything to fix it.”
“That's why you wrote the letters?” Spencer nodded. In a notepad, he wrote a letter to you every single day since he landed in Paris. He handed you the notepad at the BAU this afternoon before you stormed out, completely shaken and confused.
“I needed to put in words each day without you. I needed to tell you I was there, even if you never could read it.”
His shaky breath forces him to take some seconds to compose himself. You took that as your cue. Shifting again, you scoot a bit closer to him and reach tentatively for his hand, and he clings to it as if his life depended on it.
“And I’m here right now. And so do you,” you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m as scared as you are, but we need to do something to get through this. If it is something you want to do,” you add. Spencer's glassy eyes find yours.
“It's all I want. Maybe it's hard for me to understand I can’t fix something like this, but I want a chance to make us work again. I know I can’t get back time, but if you let me I want to gain back the place I lost the day I gone.”
Spencer’s free hand flies to your cheek to wipe with his thumb the tears you haven’t noticed are falling.
“We can start with something,” you prompt, reaching for a folder resting at the coffee table. After opening it, you produce a bunch of ultrasound pictures and hand them to him. From the first appointment you had, to the last one from a week ago.
Spencer’s eyes sparkle with excitement, seeing every detail and the way the baby has grown in the past months.
Tears fall freely and there is pure emotion that fills his heart.
So many nights you both spent talking about what it would be like to have a baby. How wonderful it would be to see them grow. About what traits they would inherit from each of you.
You smile at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. It feels so good to see in him the same excitement you have. You both wanted this. And until today you thought only you would get the chance to experience it.
After inspecting and committing to memory each detail from each pic, Spencer’s eyes find yours again.
“Do you know the baby’s-” he trails off. He’s unsure, maybe you didn't want to know or want him to know.
You have known the baby’s gender for a while now but have not told to anyone. From the same folder, you extract an envelope you offer to him. With trembling hands, Spencer takes it and gets the paper from inside. Scanning the words he realizes it is the information of your baby’s gender.
“It's - it's a girl,” he reads aloud with a cracking voice and more tears in his eyes. You nod, your own tears clouding your vision.
“Yes. Do you remember when we talked about having a baby and you told me you wanted a girl? When I found out the gender, I thought about how happy you would have been,” you sniffle, and Spencer reaches for you, now wrapping you in a loving embrace.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he repeats over and over, kissing your temple. You close your eyes, losing yourself in his chest, inhaling his scent.
You stay like this for a moment. Contently in each other arms. Spencer still can’t believe he got the chance to hold you again, and you are still assimilating the day’s events. It's unbelievable how everything changed in less than twenty-four hours.
“I love you,” he mumbles in your hair, a hand moving to rub your belly. “And I love you,” he says now, talking to your baby.
“We love you too, Spencer,” you respond, voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped, and we will never stop.”
Parting from your embrace, you get lost in each other's eyes. Communicating without words what this moment means to both of you. Cupping your face, Spencer leans to find your lips with his in a loving kiss. You kiss him back, pouring all your feelings.
It's a new promise of love.
After breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours.
“Will we be okay?” he asks, almost in a whisper.
“From now on, we will be,” you assure him. It feels like you are telling this to yourself too. Maybe you do. Everything still looks messy right now, but life is giving you a second chance, and neither Spencer nor you is willing to let it go.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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inupibaldspot · 4 months
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From you, For him
| Part 2 of At him, For him
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Normal like no curse and stuff AU where Gojo is in love with Geto’s lover but this time he has the chance to change everything. This contains time travel!
I wrote it in a way you can understand what’s happening even if your don’t read part 1 btw
·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·
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Gojo Satoru feels as if he can’t breathe.
He inhales. His chest hurts and he has a horrible attempt at keeping his glazing eyes in check as he fakes a smile and claps his hands together; there was a blur silhouette of Geto and you in a distance in tears ,both wearing matching rings.
“Woah—! Congratulations you two.” Shoko smiles wildly as she brings her hands close to her mouth,cheering. She briefly turns to Gojo and looks back at the couple. “Keep it together,Gojo… you’ve done that for years so why bother showing it now.”
Gojo lets out a laugh. “How cruel…” of course Shoko knows he has had this unrequited love for years. He breathes out. “I’ll head out for a second.”
Shoko nods as she reaches out and puts a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. He mutters a ‘thanks’ as he opens the door, cold breeze immediately greeting him. He breaths in again as his hands search for warmth in his pockets, turning to the alleyway.
Once when he is secluded, he brings out the piece of cigarette Shoko handed him earlier as he places it in between his lips, his hands bringing up the lighter with one on the lighter as the other hand wraps to protect the small flame.
He did not smoke often—more like he didn’t even the last last time he did. Gojo sucks in a breath, his throat feels hot but his chest is lighter, no-he remembers smoking back in high school simply because of Shoko and Geto. His only two friends would leave him for smoke breaks and he didn’t want to be left alone so he simply picked up the habit. 
Gojo quit after he met you since he didn’t feel the need to tag along Geto and Shoko anymore.
Somewhere in between college,meeting you and now, he didn’t seem to care anymore.
“Hey kid.”
“Fuck!” Gojo jumps, his teeth biting into the cigarette as his eyes glare sharply in the direction of the sound. A man sits along the far end of the alley way, away from him.
The white haired man contains his jumped heartbeat as he walks over the man who called him over. His eyes trail the dress he wore; it was a traditional dark piece of clothing and beads around his hand. This man was cosplaying as a Priest. 
He didn’t say the word ‘cosplay’ lightly because first, to begin with, the man in front had a ‘magic ball’ in front of him as if he was waiting for people to share their future and second, he wasn’t too serious because boy—! That monk had thick hair on his head, not the shaven look you’d normally see.
Gojo met scammers; near the shopping center, outside popular restaurant and tourist attractions, by his house ringing on his doorbell and right now, infront of him.
“What‘cha gonna tell me,old man.” Gojo says as he peers in, with also taking in a puff of smoke. “That I’ll be having a wife and two kids in my 30s… If it’s not that, it means one of you is lying.” By ‘one of you‘ refers to the scammer-I mean fortune teller he let in his house because he was bored. 
“Hahaha-! That’s not it.” The man laughs as he faces Gojo directly, it was then when he finally notices a stitch mark which stretches across his forehead. “Just wondering if you’d ever regretted things… ‘things’ which you wished you could go back and change..”
Gojo laughs as he drops the half-piece of cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. No long interested. “Of course. I still wish I could go back in time and not erase my answers because my teacher made all the answers to the MCQ ‘c’ just when I didn’t study.” 
Fuck—just why did Yaga REALLY do that? Gojo thinks back at the thought.
“That’s what I like to hear.” Gojo turns when he hears the man speak. 
The man stands close—very close to him as his hands were making a V-sign (a peace sign) , fingers pointed near his eyes before the old man was stabbed into his eyes.
“Oh my god— shit! That hurt, old man.” Gojo places his hands on his eyes as he tries to soothe the pain from it. “What are you trying to do—huh…?”
He blinks once.
Twice.
He takes a deep breath. ‘It’s fine.’ He thinks to himself. ‘I’ve just lost my mind a tiny bit because y/n and Suguru are getting married.’
Gojo let out the breath and opened his eyes. Same scene. He was by a tree, near a building; he remembered this place being behind the building for the Class 1-3 who were studying the normal curriculum whereas advanced classes of class 4-5 students were in another building. 
“What the actual heck is happening?” Gojo grumbles as he looks at the calendar on his phone. He was back in high school. He was sent back in time by about 7 years. “Fuck… I guess that man wasn’t a quack….”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“That’s why I need you to help.” You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you stand, smiling. The teacher,Yaga Masamichi, was in front of you, sitting on his chair as he continued to talk- maybe complain would be a better word- about a certain boy from the advanced class. “The boy is smart but he lacks discipline! He needs someone as hardworking as you and maybe it’ll rub on to him.”
You’ve heard of Gojo Satoru. You’ve never seen him but he was very infamous in high school . First, for being the son of the Gojo Estate. Two, for being a very tall, conventionally attractive boy. Third, for being a delinquent. 
And that last part bothers you a lot, you’ve heard him get into fights, rumors of him smoking along the alleyway, ripping love letters into pieces and recently he skipped over all his tests making him fail his mid-terms. 
You gulp. Hope he doesn’t beat you up… 
Just then the door to the staff room slides open. You see enter, he was tall with white hair and lashes and the eyes in the most beautiful shade. No way this was Gojo right? He was so— beautiful.
Did he just make eye contact with you?
“Gojo come here.” Yaga calls out as he huffs. Gojo clears his throat as he walks to the teacher. When he was close enough Yaga continued. “This is y/n and I’m assigned to be your teacher. She’ll make sure you get all your works done plus make you study for the reassessment for the exam you skipped on.”
You watch Gojo who was towering beside you raise his hands and brought it up to his face, but from the angle you see the upward turn on the corner of his lips. Why was he smiling?
“Isn’t this -he points at you- from the normal department?” You huff when you were referred to as ‘this’. “You sure she is smart?”
“Don’t mess with y/n just because she isn’t from the advanced class— And also! In the last exam she was placed third overall , right below Suguru.” Yaga shouted back.
Your eyes trail back to him when the boy beside you seemed to still, You’ve heard of Geto Suguru too. Apparently a boy from the advanced class who was also popular for his good looks. But not only that— he had a delicate aura around him which makes people like him and to add on he was very much academically smart.
Gojo lets out a breath, as if it were more of an amazement in your opinion. You watch him take a small step back as he turns around and gives you a smile, god was unfair when he crafted this smile. “Then please take care of me, my tutor.” His face was close to yours.
‘My.’ You face almost burst with heat.
“Gojo stop bothering y/n.”
“Ouch—! That hurt sensei.”
Ever since then, once you hear the bell ring indicating school was over for the day, there would be Gojo poking his head into your class with a boyish grin plastered on his face, he takes your book-filled bag, slings it over his shoulder as you guys would walk to the library.
He sometimes passes by your classroom which is in the opposite building whenever he wants to go to the restroom in between classes—I mean he never did specify which restroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.
And when he does, his gaze flickered towards you, taking in the way your gaze reflected the warm sun from outside.It becomes clear to Gojo then that even now, despite everything—in between ever but of confusion, anger and guilt, he doesn't actually want to lose you. To his best friend. To anyone else.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Warm.
The way the curtains fluttered from the gentle wind, letting in a cool breeze and a glow of the evening sun and you. You sitting not even an arm's length away and just like the pace of his heart which picked up, pushing every worry he could still have further and further away because there was no space for those in that moment.
There was just you. And he could feel your presence a lot closer now, her warmth not far away from him.
God, you were beautiful.
So beautiful, he would not mind spending the rest of his life memorizing each feature belonging of yours.
“Stop staring at me.” You let down the pen you were holding, looking away from your homework.
“I can’t stop.” He admitted.
You huff, the smirk on Gojo widened as he could see a faint color rush to your cheeks. “Just do your work…” you wave him off as you grumble.
“I’m already done,love.” He continues his teasing.
You pink as you let out a small shriek at the nickname; you rush close to him as you cover your hands on his mouth. “Shut up—Gojo, I don’t want to be murdered by your fangirls because of this.”
He pecks your hands by pursing his lips forward, into the palm of your hands making you shriek once more pulling away.
“Gojo!” You glare at him as you reach your hands out and comically wipe your hands on his blazer as he laughs at your reaction. He leans forward as he looks at your books. “What’s this?” He asks.
“Ah…” you say as you bring out a book closer to him. “I’m studying for my entrance exam for this university.”
“Already?” But that’s like months away.
“Yeah.” Your voice is laced with a smile, gojo almost sees shining glitters surrounding you. “It’s like… kind of my dream as a kid to go here.”
Gojo laughs at how adorable you sounded. “Why that university though?”
“My parents-“ you turn almost too quickly to face him but then you stop yourself as you clear your throat. “My parents went there and that’s how they met and fell in love.”
“Ah…” Just like you and Geto… His heart pains again as he is reminded.
You bend down as you lean your head on the table, letting out a sigh with your hands on your sides. “I hope I get in though…”
“You will.” He says confidently. He knows you will. “Nerds like you will get in.”
“Gojo, I’m not a nerd.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“I’m not princess either!”
“Sure thing, love.”
“Oh— Gojo,stop that!”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“I need you to be serious, Satoru!”
He listens to you shout, even without turning to your direction he could basically sense you ‘huffing and puffing’, a habit you took till adulthood. He reaches out into the bushes, pushing the leaves away. “I am—! Sheesh, let me breathe.” Gojo laughs.
You two were currently near the patch of grass by the football ground; you had lost your key to the music club room—a room which was basically unused but you guys needed a room so you two can continue on with your study lessons. 
You bend to look over the bushes while Gojo does around the bushes checking every shrub. “Oh lucky— someone’s cigarette and lighter is hidden  here.” His smile widens as he reaches out for the gift, someone had kept here. “Satoru, don’t steal others' stash.” He puts it down upon hearing your words.
“So this where you go after classes,Satoru?”
He knew it was inevitable but he hoped he could extend it for as long as he could.
In front of him, holding a key was Geto Suguru, smiling at him with Shoko, a lollipop in her mouth peers over from beside him. “What you doing?”
Geto throws him the key at him which is catches instantly.He wanted the two of his friends meet you but he selfishly hoped it would be after like maybe, after you and Gojo date. Wow—what an optimistic! Gojo gulps, afterall what would he do if the two of you fall in love again? 
“You found it!” You jump, unaware that the two figures were his friends. You turn your head to look at him, at him. Despite Geto Suguru standing near you, you looked at Gojo. The white haired boy’s heart pulsed, the slow and steady pump now erratic and heavy with emotions. Just you looking at him with a smile, at him like he was the only one on the planet m. For the first time.
“Who is this?” Shoko says as walks to to the bush and sticks her hands in. You laugh. “That cigarette was yours?” Shoko nods.
“This… this is y/n.” Gojo grumbles, speaking low. “She is helping me with my reassessment.”
“That’s what you get for skipping assignments and test.” Shoko teases. 
Geto laughs.
Gojo eyes at your reaction and sighs in relief when you were still acting the same. Thank god, there was nothing of that ‘love at first sight’ going on. “I don’t need to take those test.Even Yaga knows I’m smart.”
Your roll your eyes. “I guess we won’t have those study sessions of now on, Gojo.”
“Wha— no! I need it.” Gojo jumps, as he comically starts shaking you, as if he got the most shocking news of the century. “No- nope! You can’t do that. I need you—!”
“Geto, let’s get going now.” She turns. Shoko looks over to Gojo, they make eye contact and the brown hair girl smiles. 
He knows that smile. 
That’s the smile Shoko gives when ever she figures out something. And equipped with a teasing look, Gojo is certain she knows that he is in love with you. “Good luck,Gojo.” With his studies or with you? Geto gives you guys a wave as he also turns around and walks way. 
From then onwards, it’s as if the friendship which you guys have in the future,college days were happening now. Hanging out, study sessions, sometimes sneaking into parties and café date; the four of you. Just like right now as you’re in Gojo’s room, a flat rented nearby your future college.
“No way.” Shoko starts. “We’re all going to be attending the same college.” Her smile widens when you cheer and jump into her arms, she quickly looks over and sees a fond smile on Gojo’s face…hilarious!
Geto laughs as he takes a sip on his coffee as the two girls snuggle closer to each other. “Did you know about this?” He peers over to Gojo who finally seemed broken from his trance—you.
Gojo nods. “Yeah… I mean I’ve seen her study for her exams.” He clears his throat. “Have you played the new ‘digimon’ game?” He changes topic, whenever Geto speaks of you or to you, it makes him feel small. This isn’t good. He relishes this yet it was suffocation. Gojo would never hate his best friend—never, but sometimes it’s insecurity and sometimes it’s guilt which swallows him whole. ‘Is this okay?’ 
Shoko breaks away from the hug and she pulls on your cheeks fondly, she thinks you’re the most adorable human as she turns to Geto. “Smoke break.” Geto smiles and nods, following behind Shoko who led the way.
Gojo turns to you, eyes carefully trying to take in your presence that is before he notices something—your eyes are ‘lingering.’ He follows your gaze, carefully in the direction.
You were looking at Geto.
All emotions are wiped from his face. Gojo knew this could happen, you can fall in love with Geto all over again. He was the one who was messing with fate and time, yet— it hurt.
You turn to Gojo, your face tilts up to meet his gaze as your lips turn into a teasing smile which quickly flatters when you see Gojo’s expression. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of his hands. “…Satoru?”
He turns to you, and smiles. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“No…just thinking.”
You gulp wondering why it felt as if suddenly there was a huge rift when they were barely centimeters apart; for someone as big as Gojo his voice was so—so small. “…About?” You were almost scared to ask.
“Are you in love with Suguru?” Gojo beats himself for this, he has gone and done it now! 
You tilt your head. “where did that come from?”
“Friends don’t give each other love-filled lingering looks.” He scoffs. “So tell me-“ no he was being pushy. Gojo felt so backed into a corner for a moment but when he locked eyes with you, he was hurting you with the way he was acting.
He stands up. “I think I need some fresh air.”
“If I did love him, what would you do?” 
Were you testing him? 
“Please—please don’t fall for anyone but me…” he mumbles.
You watch as he slumps down on the floor, on his knees, burying his face into his hands, curling up almost as if to protect himself. Gojo is no longer confident egoistic boy you know, right now he seemed so weak; as if he was tired after a long journey. “I have surrendered myself to you for all of time; past, present and future I am yours…”
Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. Gojo feels like he is losing himself in his thoughts and also rambles with no coherence to what his mind has to say. “I don’t know what do do with this emotion but if I try to stop them they overflow and-” 
His heart seemed to thud to a stop in his chest and then start up again erratically, hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang close by his sides.
“Satoru, I love you…” you whisper and it is only then when he realizes you were also on your knees in front of him, thumbs wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry for joking— I don’t love Geto. It’s you I love. Don’t hate me?”
How can he hate you when you were still his everything: you were his everything even when you were intertwining hands with someone else?
“It’s me?” He breathes out. “Did you say you’re in love with me?” 
You nod.
“Oh wow.” He says which makes you laugh.
“I love you…” He says, years of these words inside the depth of his heart, was dug out. “From the bottom of my soul, I’m head over heels for you, my love.”
You almost cry at his tone, so gentle.
He caresses your hair, tenderly, running his fingers through the soft, silky strands. When he eventually has his hands on your cheeks; your cheeks flushing as he gazes at you, captivated by your presence. Your eyes sparkle with wonder, your lips plush and rosy. 
You are flawless, perfect in this moment and beautiful in his embrace.
Gojo didn’t even realize when he started to get so close to you. His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin.His limbs burned where he touched you, you were warm. So it was cold after all, he realized somewhere along the line. His hands were freezing, clinging to your lower back. 
Gojo wants to stay like this, holding you for a minute longer or forever.
A whisper in his head was telling him to let go—that it wasn’t right, but Gojo wouldn't. He was hanging onto a life line, it hurt, but if he let go now, he would drown.
Gojo was vulnerable. And you kiss him back. Kiss him till he is fine. Kiss him until all his worries fly— till he understands, you are equally so stupidly in love with him. 
Unbeknownst to you two, Shoko peeks over inside the door, a small crack reveals what’s inside “You think they’re done?”
Geto laughs. “Of course not…but give them more time and they’ll be in bed.”
Shoko laughs lightly making sure she isn’t spotted yet as she then peers over to the taller boy beside her. “What about you? You good?”
“Yeah… it was just a crush.”  Geto looked at Shoko from the corner of his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. Shoko was always so observant. 
Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆。—I tagged people who voted for time travel! Hope you guys don’t mind: @uuu55r64z46 @leviswifey-act62 @royaleashlyn @bakananya @bejwls @ritsatoru@washeduphasbeen @satorus-babygirl
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astraystayyh · 11 months
Text
Somebody else
Hyunjin x reader. Exes to lovers. Miscommunication. Hints of past toxic relationships. Flawed characters and happy ending :)
Inspired from Somebody Else by The 1975, highly recommend listening to it while reading!
You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?
skz song series masterlist.
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Strobing lights, vibrant streaks of blue and red ricocheting off your skin. Bodies pressed to yours, trying to fray themselves a passage to dance in. Someone bumps onto your shoulder but you don't care enough to even glance at them. Your eyes are fixated on Hyunjin.
You broke up two weeks ago, you don't even remember why. Petty arguments and even pettier reactions from both of you, your egos holding you back from saying what you truly feel. 
You hated arguments, especially with him. Because they reminded you of how much you cared for him, immensely so, how you regarded him as a part of your soul, one you couldn't part with. The mere thought of his departure left you feeling like a seashell washed ashore- hollow and condemned to echo the sounds of the ocean it was forcibly separated from. 
So, in the heat of the moment, you let anger pull you in her fiery hold- she's all encompassing, wrapping around you like a steel shield, making you less vulnerable in Hyunjin’s hands. But she also clouds your senses, and you find yourself uttering stupid nonsense, such as ‘Maybe we should break up’.
You’ve never thought about it, let alone wanted to end things with him. You wanted to take those words back as soon as you said them, to rewind the seconds and erase them from both of your memories. But then Hyunjin agreed, so easily, as if he was eagerly awaiting the bait you just threw at him. 'You know what? Maybe we should' and he left, slamming the door of your apartment. 
You stayed up all night, waiting for him to come back. He knew you didn't mean it, right? Surely, he understood that it was your feeble attempt to guard your wounded heart. It's been stomped on carelessly, thrown around enough that he must know you were just afraid.
But you haven’t seen him since.
And now you're both here, at the party that Changbin organized. He's your mutual friend and he insisted that you'd come as well. "Binnie, I don't want to."
"You both are just idiots who'll get back together. You’re coming," he silenced you, and you sulked in your place. But his words ignited something in you- a childish hope, that maybe he was right and Hyunjin still cared about you.
But all of it was shattered as you set foot inside Changbin’s house. It was easy to find Hyunjin, sitting in the middle of a couch, legs slightly spread apart. He was wearing a white shirt, its top buttons undone. You watched as he easily captured the attention of everyone around him, as they hung into his every word, admiring him. That's the thing with Hyunjin, it's easy to admire him, to crave being near him, because he's enchanting, and his laugh makes you want to make him happy ten times fold.  
You scoff bitterly, as someone places their hand on his arm and he doesn't move them away. He leans onto their touch and a surge of bile rises in your throat. Perhaps this is what you fought about- anger that cowardly hid behind it your insecurity at dating someone so sought after. It was foolish after all, to believe that the sun would get attached to a mere speck of light.
"You're here alone?" a voice interrupts your train of thought, and you turn around to find Chan. You smile at the familiar face, a welcome respite from the dull ache settling in your heart, making itself a home within your veins. 
"Our friends are all over the place," you explain, and he nods in understanding. "Changbin made me come but I don't know where he is," he whines, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear him over the pulsating music. 
"So, we're all here because of Bin?" you giggle and Chan's laugh fills the air, his dimples proudly on display. There was this comforting aura surrounding him, which made it much easier to breathe in his presence. And you needed to feel safe somewhere at this party, where all you saw were glimpses of Hyunjin and the hurt he inflicted on you. 
"Do you want to dance?" you ask, and Chan's grin widens in response, so you grab his forearm leading him to the makeshift dance floor.
Hyunjin silently watches as you and Chan dance with one another. He can’t see you properly, hidden by the swarms of bodies pressed together. But he gets glimpses of you each time someone moves a bit away. You appear to him like a mirage- something he once had and yet so unattainable right now.
I don’t want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else
Hyunjin is fine with the fact that you left him, that’s what he tells himself as he downs his drink. He’s used to people leaving after some time when he’s no longer enough. He did think that maybe things with you would be different, that for once, someone would stay. That you would shatter this idea ingrained in his mind- that he’s easily disposable, as someone told him a long time ago.
But you wished to leave him too, and for the first time in his life, Hyunjin wanted to beg someone to stay. He thought of pulling you in for a dizzying kiss, so you’d second-guess your decision, so he’d show you that he’s still good at something. But he swallowed this pathetic want and he left.
He walked slowly, thinking that maybe you’d follow him. You’d shout his name and then he’d turn back and run towards you. He’d throw his pride over his shoulder and he’d apologize.
But you didn’t.
So, he’s okay with it, or at least that’s what he thought. He doesn’t want you anymore. So why does it hurt to watch you with Chan?
Our love has gone cold you’re intertwining your soul with somebody else
An ugly thought rears itself into his brain. You’ve liked Chan long before you broke up with Hyunjin. Maybe the time you've spent with Chan, working on your musical project made your heart gravitate towards him, and you were simply awaiting the right moment to end things with Hyunjin. That’s why you’re smiling so effortlessly at Chan. That’s why he’s spinning you around, and holding your arm to move you away from a drunk couple.
Hyunjin lost you before he realized he lost you. Maybe when he laid next to you in bed you were thinking of Chan. Maybe it was his touch you longed for whenever Hyunjin hugged you. You wouldn’t be the first to do this to him. 
I’m looking through you while you’re looking through your phone and then leaving with somebody else
You’re laughing hard, and your hand is on Chan’s shoulder as he steadies you. But then you look up and your eyes lock with Hyunjin’s. He can only watch as the happiness slowly drains from your face, as you whisper something into Chan’s ear who then leads you outside. 
Hyunjin's heart sinks in his chest- he couldn't recognize you anymore, the affection once present in your eyes diluted to a mere semblance of indifference. And you still looked so beautiful to him, despite it all. He felt as if you were stabbing him with a rusty knife, and yet all he focused on was how soft your hands looked holding the bloody blade. 
Hyunjin gets up to pour himself another drink, shrugging away the hand of the person who was sitting next to him. He doesn’t want you anymore, he doesn't care that you're probably kissing Chan right now. But he secretly hopes that if he drinks enough, the faces all around him will blur until all he sees again is you.
No don’t want your body but I’m picturing your body with somebody else
"Are you okay?" Chan asks, his voice soft and concerned as you draw in a deep, shuddering breath. It feels as if there was no room in your heart anymore for oxygen, the ache for Hyunjin taking it all up.
"Is it bad that I miss him so much?" you ask, your voice sounding frail to your ears. 
"He misses you too. You know that, right?"
"He left, so easily. I don't think he does after all," you smile sadly. It hurt to utter those words out loud, because it made them feel much more real, intensifying the raw pain within you. 
"I’ve never seen him look so sad before," Chan points out and you know he's just trying to help, but it just further tears you apart. You don't want false hope, you don't want to build yourself a world where Hyunjin still wants you, only for it to be shattered afterward. 
"Can we talk about something else?" you plead and he nods, before sharing with you the ropes of his latest project. He's working on a ballad for once, and you listen attentively, allowing yourself to be absorbed in the intricacies he describes. It provides you a temporary solace, which then makes a frightening thought dawn on you. 
Is this how it will be from now on? Seeking distractions from the people surrounding you, in the hopes it will quest the thirst of the ache threatening to drown you? 
Oh, come on baby, this ain't the last time that I’ll see your face
"Yn!" Hyunjin calls out, breathless, watching you abruptly stop in your tracks. It's foolish and pathetic, but he couldn't resist following you when you bid goodbye to Chan. He was sick of the tumultuous thoughts swirling in his head. He wanted to hear them from you. It'd make accepting them easier.
"Leave me alone," you shout back, walking even faster and away from him.
"Fine, leave again. That's all you fucking do anyways," he yells angrily, frustration seeping into his words. It makes you pause once again, and you suck in a deep breath before marching back to him. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" 
"Chan? Out of all people?" he scoffs, ignoring your question. That's the only thing he kept thinking of. You and Chan, laughing, talking, dancing, the way you used to with him.
And come on baby, you said you found someone to take my place
"Fuck you Hyunjin," you spit out, turning around but he stops you, a hand wrapped around your forearm. Despite the anger cursing through him, his hold on you is still gentle. You can free yourself from him, easily.
"So, it's true, then? You replaced me with him?" Fresh pain swims in his eyes, and he makes no attempt to conceal it anymore. He was tired of pretending he was okay with you leaving.
"What is it to you, huh? You left me," you shout back, jabbing your finger forcefully into his chest. 
"I left? You're the one who said that it'd be better if we broke up!"
"It's not like you disagreed, huh? You probably felt so relieved that I handed you this outing, didn't you Hyunjin?" 
"Don't twist this on me," he says firmly, gripping your finger to halt your repetitive jabs. "Am I that easy to forget? Did I matter this little to you?" He questions, voice cracking with his every word. 
"Let me go," you plead, tears brimming in your waterline. 
"Answer me. That's the least you could do for me. I need to hear it from you." Hyunjin has never been this unguarded with you, searching your eyes with an intensity that shakes you to the core. He's asking and yet it feels as if he's just expecting you to say yes, to reiterate the idea drilled into his mind, to prove everybody right once again. 
"I didn't forget about you, is this what you want to hear?" you whisper, voice laced with excruciating exhaustion. "You're all I thought about for the last two weeks. I heard your voice in my mind more than my own. I even kept your opened drink in my fridge just in case you might come back for it." 
"You're killing me, yn," he shuts his eyes closed forcefully, as if your words physically pained him. "Didn't you tell me that we should break up?" 
"You don't understand," you shake your head, a bitter chuckle leaving you. "Everyone loves you Hyunjin. Everyone would fight to be with you. You must know it, and it's dangerous when someone knows they can easily replace you. I have no one to protect me so I tried to protect myself. I didn't think I’ll survive if you left me too."
"Everyone loves me?" he repeats, as a newfound emotion shines in his eyes. "Are you in this everyone too? Do you love me, yn?" his voice wavers, as the weight of his question hangs in the air. 
You feel as if the world around you stills, holding its breath for your response. You know that any possible future with Hyunjin rests upon the words you'll choose to speak. You already know the answer, even though you decided to not tell him. Out of all the emotions you've ever experienced, love still scares you the most. And you're afraid of what your confession will entail, of tipping the balance towards a crueler reality- one where Hyunjin doesn't return your feelings. 
"Please let me go," you beg, as a singular tear trails out of your eyes. 
"Look at me," he urges, desperation lacing his words. But you shake your head, unable to meet his gaze, afraid that he will peel all your defenses with it. "Baby, look at me," he calls softly, as he gently wipes away your tears. The nickname sounds so familiar coming from his lips, and it further crumbles your shaky resolve.
"Don't call me that if you're leaving, please," you beg and he smiles softly at you, hooking a finger under your shin.
"Can't you see I'm too in love with you to go again?" he whispers, the tenderness in his voice washing over you, casting a flicker of hope into your heart. 
"I'm scared too," he speaks again, placing your hand on top of his widely beating heart. "I'm scared and so tired, yn. Of feeling disposable to everyone around me. When you... When you told me it'd be best if we broke up, it felt worse than anyone leaving me before. Because it was you. And I really wanted you to stay." 
"I didn't mean it, I never thought of it even, I promise you. I'm so sorry." The words tumble from your lips in a rush, an earnest attempt to keep the hope alive, to prevent it from withering down. "Please stay. I love you, I truly do," you plead, no longer caring how vulnerable you sound in that instant. You curl your hand around his, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing them gently. And you feel as if the universe exhales in relief, resuming its usual course. 
"I never wanted to leave either. And when I saw you with Chan I thought I lost you for good," his voice is softer now, as if embarrassed of his own admission. "It hurt, more than I imagined it would." 
You press your forehead against his, closing your eyes to relish in the feeling of being so close to him once again. 
"Really?" you tease gently, a glimmer of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "You looked perfectly fine to me."
"What do you even know,” he mutters quietly, before pressing his soft lips onto yours.
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
Text
Just Like Dad (1 of 4)
Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, brief mention of pregnancy, canon-typical swearing, Simon is a girl dad
Word Count: 890
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
Filling out a parent questionnaire leads to Simon having to answer a hard question.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad
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“Daddy.”
 A small fist curls around the bottom of Simon’s shirt, tugging. He glances down, finding his daughter there holding out a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” Simon takes it from her, his gaze shifting to the black ink.
“It’s for school.”
It’s a questionnaire. Simons scans over the questions quickly before returning his gaze to his daughter. “Give me a second, love.”
Simon packs up the files he brought home from work. Grabbing a pencil, he strolls out to the living room, his daughter on his heels. Simon takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, placing the paper and pencil on the coffee table. His daughter snags a pillow off the couch, dropping it on the floor next to his legs. Sitting, she stares at him expectantly.
Simon nods toward the paper. “You need to practice your letters.”
She groans. “But it’s about you!”
Simon slowly slides the paper and pencil over to her. She pouts but takes up the pencil, the graphite tip poised above the first line.
“Name,” she says, glancing up at him.
“You know my name.”
She squints at him and looks back at the paper, taking her time to write each letter. She holds it up and Simon smiles. It’s stilted and a bit sideways, but it’s there. She asks several more questions like favorite food and color. Simon doesn’t understand the point to it but they’re likely doing a project on a parent.
“Job,” she says, expectant.
Job. His occupation. That’s a fucking complicated question.
“Military,” he answers.
She frowns. “How do you spell that?”
“Sound it out.”
She does so slowly, elongating each letter as she writes.
Simon glances over her shoulder and chuckles. “That’s an ‘i,’ darling.” He points and she aggressively erases her mistake.
When she finishes, she looks up at him. “Explain.”
Explain. Explain.
Explain…what?
That he kills people? That he negotiates the release of hostages? That he faces violence every day he’s on the job? That he sees some of the worst in people?
How the bloody hell does he explain all that to a six-year-old girl? How does he summarize the violence into a watered-down version that’s digestible enough for her, her teacher, the other students, and her school.
Simon swallows. “I stop bad people from doing bad things.”
She blinks. “Do I have to write all that?”
Simon barks a laugh. “It’s one sentence.”
She silently mimics him, shaking her little body in annoyance as she begins to write. Simon has no idea where the attitude comes from, but it’s likely from Johnny.
“Next question,” prompts Simon once the sentence is written down.
She hesitates and then turns in his direction. “Can I be like you when I grow up?”
Could she? Yes. But the very idea of her in the line of danger frightens him. It twists his stomach, knowing all the things that could befall her if she were to follow in his footsteps. Simon’s gut-instinct is to tell her “No.”
“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks.
She shrugs. “You’re strong. I want to be strong like you.”
“You don’t need to do what I do to be strong.”
“Uh, no,” she says, matter-of-fact, peering at the next question.
Fucking hell, she’s going to be an absolute hellion when she hits puberty. Sighing, Simon rubs at his temple. For some reason, he glances away from his daughter, his gaze landing on you in the hallway. With your hand cradling your slightly swollen belly, you watch on with an amused expression.
Number two. Will this one be like her? Wanting to do what he does?
“Daddy.”
Simon turns back to his daughter. She points at the paper with the tip of her pencil, head tilted slightly to the side.
He leans forward. “What’s the next question?”
“What does your day look like?” She grins up at him, ready for his answer.
Simon hears your soft laugh from the hall, and then your footsteps across the carpet. Your hand reaches out to cradle the back of Simon’s neck. On instinct, he lifts his arm, resting his hand on the small of your back.
“Go on, Simon. Tell her,” you tease, knowing that he’s struggling to form an answer.
“Do you put your mask on first?” The question is innocent but Simon laughs anyway.
“No,” he chuckles, gently taking the paper and pencil from her. “I kiss your mother first.”
Simon drags you in for a kiss.
“Ugh. Gross.” She makes a face, tiny nose scrunching up in disgust.
“Still want my job?” Simon presents the paper and she snatches up in her little fist.
“No thanks,” she sing-songs, stuffing the paper in her backpack, crinkling it up.
You hide your grin in Simon’s shoulder, and Simon tugs you closer. “Good save,” you murmur.
Simon presses his lips to the top of your head. “She has one of my masks.”
“I know,” you giggle. “Found it under her pillow this morning. I put it in your bag.”
“Was it covered in your makeup this time?”
“Had to wash it.”
Simon shakes his head in exasperation. He’s not annoyed. Just perplexed. He doesn’t understand why his daughter wants to be just like him.
It’s because she doesn’t know.
No. She doesn’t know. But one day she will. She might even change her mind.
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holybibly · 3 months
Text
Personally, I think we don't talk about Professor Choi San enough, don't you?
I don't like Mondays, but I like San, and this is just what I need to start the week sinfully.
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"You've been behaving very badly lately, Y/N." The voice of your literature professor sounds light-hearted, as if he's talking to you about a fun game rather than an exam that you already failed three times. Besides, you have committed a number of other offences that could have earned you a reprimand, and Professor Choi seems to take every opportunity to remind you. "Skipping classes, constantly getting bad grades, and a generally destructive attitude..." He lists, turning to the blackboard to erase today's topic: "Sins and desires in Dante's Inferno." It was almost impossible not to look at his firm, toned ass, wrapped tightly in the fabric of his trousers. He reached for a particularly large inscription on the board. "For lack of a better term." He says this, turning to meet you, and the expression on his face tells you he notices where you're looking.
You lower your head in embarrassment, avoid making eye contact with him, and pull your skirt down a little.
"You and I both know that we've tried just about everything we could to correct your inappropriate behaviour." Professor Choi says this as you continue to look down in guilt as he walks over to you and slightly loosens the tight knot of his tie around his long, freckled neck. There was something about the way he was able to make such simple things seem so incredibly sexy, with no subtext at all, that made your stomach tingle. You'd be lying if you said you couldn't picture him tightening the tie around you and putting you on a leash as you rode his cock. "You were detained, suspended, counseled..." He stops in front of you, and you can smell his scent—something heavy and dark, like amber and whisky—or sex. God, you thought you couldn't be more despairing, but apparently Choi San was designed to destroy your sanity. "There is only one way that I can think of to solve this problem." He says. Professor Choi brings his hand to your chin, his fingers surprisingly cold, but the metal of his ring is hot on your skin as he gently raises your head to meet his feline eyes.
You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you stare into the handsome face of the man. If you didn't know better, you'd say Professor Choi's face was hand-carved by the finest Renaissance sculptors, because it's hard to believe that those sharp, perfect lines were created by something as trivial as genetics. He raises a questioning eyebrow and watches your reaction like a predator waiting for you to fall into his trap. Without realising it, you give him what he wants, nodding obediently to his words, your lips parting slightly.
"You have behaved very badly, and to correct this you must obediently follow what I tell you. Do you understand me, or not?" This could be your only chance to back out, but instead you look up at him through the lace of fluffy eyelashes with wide, innocent eyes.
"I do, Professor Choi."
His eyes grow darker and more predatory than they were before.
"I'd like you to bend down over my desk. Now." Professor Choi commands, and you obey immediately, throwing your bag on the floor and resting your forearms on his desk, facing the perfectly clean board. You can feel the fabric of your pleated skirt lift a little and slide higher up your thighs, exposing the delicate ruffled panties made of silk.
You hear Professor Choi move in behind you and feel his sinewy hands sliding down your sides in a teasing way to your hips before he pushes one hand down your lower back until your chest is pressed up against his desk. You support yourself with your arms, your plump tits falling out of the cups of your bra, and your hard, swollen nipples rubbing against the lace of the bra. You hear the rustle of fabric, and when you lift your head to look, San slaps your thigh so hard that you jerk at the impact, and your skin is instantly red.
"You better not move." He says it with a growl and puts his hand in front of your face. "Open your mouth for me." The tie that he has rolled up ends up in your mouth as soon as you open your lips—an effective gag. It's elegant, just like Professor Choi himself.
"Right now there are many other students here, obedient students who listen and respect their professors, unlike you, little whore." San whispers in your ear as he presses his chest against your back, his voice dropping several octaves. "We don't want anyone else to know what a whore you really are to me, do we?" His voice is becoming hoarse and sultry, and goosebumps creep across your skin.
A few moments pass in silence as you become more and more lost in the forbidden sensations of Professor Choi's hands as they slowly explore your body. Your eyes open as you feel San's warm breath on your thighs, his hands pulling down your panties, and the silk moving teasingly slowly against your overheated skin. A small stream of sticky liquid drips from your pussy as soon as your underwear is removed, and you hear San hiss at the sight of it.
"Look, you're dripping for me. Do you always feel like this during my classes?" San moans as he blows lightly on your wet folds, and the sensation makes your knees weaken. "Shhh, honey, I'll take care of that little cunt." Suddenly, the tip of his tongue plunges in and slides between your folds, drawing a strip from your little hole to your throbbing clitor. You gasp for air, but the sound is muffled by the gag. Your legs tremble, and Professor Choi slaps your thigh once more, this time stinging you even more on the skin.
"You will learn that lesson next time, but for now, you are going to take everything that I am giving you." You hear more of the rustling, and then, without warning, his cock is thrust into your tight, humid cunt. Your high-pitched moans are muffled by the gag, but San gives a contented, low purr as he pushes deeper and deeper into you until he's completely inside you. You can feel the fabric of his perfectly pressed shirt brushing against your naked skin as his balls slap against your buttocks.
He doesn't hesitate for a second before he pulls his cock out of you completely and immediately plunges back in. He puts his strong hands on your hips to pull you closer to him, your hands desperately gripping the edge of the table to steady yourself. The drawers of his desk rattle every time his dick slams into your pussy and you realise that, despite the gag in your mouth, anyone passing by at that moment would have no doubt as to what was going on inside the room. 
The sensation you are feeling now is so strong, almost overwhelming—the gag restricting your breathing and making your consciousness seem distant and hazy.
Blackened bruises were left on the tender flesh from Professor Choi's firm grip on your soft thighs. The almost painful friction of your breasts against the table and the lace of your bra made you whimper quietly from the rough stimulation, and of course San's cock—thick, warm, and veined—buried itself right into you, striking all the right places with each thrust. 
It was enough to make your toes curl up and your pussy squirt out of control. Your juices were sticky and glistening, sloshing around San's cock with every thrust he gave you. A wet, squelching sound filled the entire space of his office. It mixed with his hoarse moans and your pitiful whimpering, muffled by the thick fabric of his tie stuffed into your mouth.
"You won't come until I say so, you little bitch." San hisses, slapping both your buttocks, but not stopping his thrusting, continuing his cock deep and hard into your plump cunt. You whimper, but of course, not a sound comes out of you. Professor Choi leans over you and pulls his tie out of your mouth. "Say my name, pretty." You gasp for breath, the air burning your lungs, but you obediently follow his command.
"Professor Choi!" You squeal as his hand lands on the reddened skin of your ass once more.
"Say my name, Y/N." He growls, and the meaning of his command finally dawns on your mind, clouded as it is by lust.
"San!" As San pulls your shirt off your shoulders, along with your bra straps, and kisses your skin fiercely, the painful sound of pleasure turns into a prolonged moan.
"That's right, beautiful. Be obedient to me." He begins to fuck you more intensely, the thick head of his cock pressing against your cervix with each hard thrust, and before you can make another high-pitched squeal, San pushes two long fingers into your mouth.
You can feel the drool running down your chin, and you can imagine how dirty you must look right now.
"Fuck, look at you, darling." San moans softly, as if she can read your mind. "You're such a good girl, a perfect student." My little obedient slut." You moan around his fingers, and he reminds you that you can't come without his permission, but you can hardly stand it any longer. There's already so much tension in your stomach, and you know you'll be coming on his thick, long cock any minute.
He lifts his other hand from your hip and presses down on your throat, further interrupting your breathing as he drives you mercilessly into the table and fucks you with all his might. You have no chance to hold on.
"Fuck!" You moan, your juices squirting out with every thrust of his cock, and you squirt around him, coming in profusion with his name on your lips. "San, oh my God!"
He pulls out of you, and you feel your cum dripping down your thighs as you struggle to breathe. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence pass before Professor Choi chuckles darkly. He caresses the sore skin on your bottom.
"I thought I told you not to cum, my little one. I'm afraid it's time for your punishment now." When he speaks, his voice is dangerously calm, full of sugary menace, and yet your hole tightens at what he says. "On your knees, my love. I'm going to fuck your pretty little slutty mouth." You moan and almost fall to your trembling knees as you hurry to do what he asks you to do.
You look at Professor Choi for the first time since he asked you to bend over his desk. Apart from the trousers and boxers that have been pulled down around his hips to expose his thick, throbbing cock that is now right in front of your face, he still looks good—almost damn perfect.
"Fuck, are you going to smear that pretty pink lip gloss all over my dick, darling?" San strokes your hair like you are a kitten. He looks amazing—hair slightly damp with sweat, eyes dark and lustful, biting his plump lower lip as he shoves his thick cock into your mouth until the head hits the back of your throat. You gag on him, instinctive tears leaking from your eyes as he tangles his fingers in your hair, forcing you to swallow more and more of his cock as he goes deeper and deeper with each thrust, sloppily fucking your mouth. Your sticky lip gloss leaves a pink glow on his dick and is probably smeared all over your face, and you can see why this is such a turn-on for San.
Your eyes close as you concentrate on the relaxation of your throat and the rubbing of your tongue along the underside of his heavy cock.
"That's right, such an obedient girl." He moans, and you can feel San's cock pulsing in your mouth; he's about to come. He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling at it as you hear his sharp breathing through his nose. You whimper around his cock, the extra stimulation making him growl with pleasure.
"You're going to swallow every drop of my sperm. Every damn bit of it. Just like the pretty little bitch that you are." San gasps to breathe. You suck in your cheeks, suck hard on the head of his cock, and he curses fiercely. He comes out all the way and cums into your open, waiting mouth, spraying thick cum all over your tongue and some on your cheeks until his orgasm subsides. You swallow obediently, and the warm, bittersweet cum rolls down the back of your bruised throat.
You look up at him through your lashes and stick out your tongue to show him what a good girl you have been for him, swallowing every last bit of it.
San leans over, grabs you by the chin, and pulls you into a dirty, wet kiss. You can't even imagine leaving his office looking like that; you look like a total mess. As soon as Professor Choi lets you go, he brushes the sweaty hair from his forehead, runs his hand through it, and hides his dick in the trousers.
"I hope you've learned how to behave yourself, right?"
"Yes, Professor Choi."
"All right, you can go now." You nod in what you hope is a convincing manner and turn to pick up your knickers from the floor.
He quickly picks them up for you and puts them in one of the drawers on his desk.
"You'll have to come back for another lesson, love, if you want them back.".
"I understand, Professor Choi." You mutter, pulling your skirt down over your hips to cover everything.
You walk out of his office, not missing the way San is smiling at you, admiring the sight of your swaying hips, and you close the door to his office behind you.
You don't have any idea how you will come into his class next Monday.
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rklve · 10 months
Text
RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE
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summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
➣ pairing: jk x f!reader
➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut (eventually).
➣ 3.4k words
warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a confused mess. mutual pining. cursing. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. tae is bitter asf but he's right on this one. jk is the best boy I WANT HIM!!!!!!!!!!
song inspo: rainy days — V
wish I knew how to find the way right back to you, on rainy days like
part one | part two | drabble one
“I can't take it anymore,” Jungkook says as he stumbles for the seventh time on his feet walking around the living room “I’m losing my mind, Bamie.”
The dog looks at his owner with his head pointed sideways as if he understands what he’s been sorrowing about for the past 10 minutes. The rain pours angrily outside the apartment, Jungkook sighs as he realizes talking to his big ass puppy won’t solve any of his problems.
“She’s like, 5 min away from us, Bam! I should text her, right?”
He looks over his phone again, your instagram story is open and a picture of a window full of raindrops is seen — he knows where you’re at, you’ve both been to that coffee shop over a hundred times for the past years now. Can’t remember the last time he’s been to that place ‘cause he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without you. Now he’s wondering, wondering, wondering. Wonders if you’re back for real this time. If you are alone. If you are thinking about him too. Wonders what would happen if he just replied your story right now.
@jeonjk97: heard it’s the best caramel macchiato in town 👍
No— that’s too lame. Quickly erases the message.
@jeonjk97: want a ride home? it’s pretty bad outside. 
Throws his phone on the sofa as he realizes he doesn’t know if you would accept his offer, doesn’t know if you’re sharing an apartment with Lola again either. Realizes he doesn’t know anything that’s been going on with you for a while now. More than what you let your 897 followers on Insta know too, at least. Blames himself for it, but knows it was for the best. Misses you like a fucker anyway.
“I should just call her.”
He picks up his phone, then also realizes he deleted your number months ago so he wouldn’t call you whenever his drunk ass thought it was the right thing to do. 
“For fucks sake, grow some balls, Jungkook” he whines angrily at the air purifier as if it is the source of his problems. “Okay, Taehyung will know what do.”
He calls his best friend quickly, and prays Taehyung picks up before he grabs his car keys and drives himself to the colorful little cafe at the end of the street. Remembers how much you loved that place and the cookies they served. One caramel macchiato with extra topping and two medium chocolate cookies. You always ordered the same thing. Every damn time. Said it was in you, to never let go of the things you loved. You let go of him anyway.
“Jungkook-ah! Why are you calling? I told you I can't go out—“ 
“She’s back in town.” He cuts Taehyung abruptly and suddenly the other line is mute as well. Probably doesn’t believe it’s happening just as Jungkook didn’t believe himself minutes ago. 
“Man, are you sure? Like, back for real?” he says, and Jungkook swears he can hear the disbelief in his tone from the other side. Yeah, he knows Taehyung is full of his late night calls to talk about you. Knows he is the one that’s been listening to it for months now —besides from his dobermann, of course— he’s the one who gets it, ‘cause he’s the only one who feels bitterly betrayed too. You were one of his best friends and yet, he didn’t knew your plans to move out from Busan as well. 
“Aish, I’m not sure hyung. But she posted a picture a little while ago at the cafe down the street.” he blurted out, “Can’t even think straight now, man. You think she’s back for the holidays?” 
Taehyung wondered for a little while. It was still August, Chuseok was weeks later. He didn’t say it out loud, but it wasn’t like you to drop work for so long, even if it was to visit your hometown. Nevertheless, he didn’t want Jungkook to get his hopes up. He knows how he is. Doesn’t want to see his friend’s heart breaking all over again.
“Mmm. Maybe, don’t know.” he sighed out loud “I thought we agreed to unfollow her after the second month.”
He hears Jungkook’s sad chuckle on the other side of the line, “Yeah, we did.” 
Taehyung knows Jungkook wouldn’t bring himself to do it tho, and now he just confirms it. Being a little bit more resentful than Jungkook gave him the motivation to do so, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been missin’ your ugly face. 
“Ok, so I need you to refresh my mind now. Tell me something so I won’t step outside that door right this second and make a fool of myself.” Jungkook continues to talk as if he’s been charged on 220W. And maybe he was. His heart has never beaten so fast for the past twelve months. His hair is all over the place from the countless times he grabbed it since he saw your photo. The tip of his fingers are tingling. Yeah, maybe he’s been electrocuted or something.
“Go.”
“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief. Doesn’t think he hears straight, ‘cause Taehyung would be the last one to say such a thing. 
“I said go, Jungkook.” he sighs for what it seems to be the tenth time on the phone call. “I know you need this. You haven’t been yourself for so long now. You two have to talk properly at some point.”
“Ay, how frustratin really—” he tsks.
“For real, man. Go. Now.” he firmly says “What’s the worst she can do, leave?” Jungkook senses the bitter words coming from Taehyung’s mouth. He knows he’s not mad at you, just hurt. Knows Taehyung would forgive you in a heartbeat if you said how sorry you were for everything that went thru. Wonders if he would forgive you that easily too. But he knows his friend is right. He needs closure. Needs this.
“Yeah. Right.” he bites his lips and looks around. Sees Bam looking at him, as if he’s expecting an action from him too. “I’ll talk to you later, bro. Thanks.”
He turns off the phone and grabs his car keys tightly. Yeah, he’s doing it. Won’t think too much, it’s better this way. He will get in the car, drive for 5 minutes. Enter the coffee shop. Order. Pretend he doesn’t know you’re there. Eventually look over the spot he knows you’re at, the same table over the corner where you two always used to sit together, by the large window. Grab the coffee and go over casually, ask how you’ve been. Offer you a ride home —to your parents, probably, since you moved out from your apartment on the neighborhood for a while now. Say it’s because of the rain, he knows you hate to ask for Ubers on the rain. Didn’t trust just anyone driving on bad weather. Such a smart girl. He misses the shit out of you. 
“Damn, ok. Pack it up, man.” 
He calls Bam to his house and watches as the dog quickly follow his lead, as if he knows Jungkook is too anxious to play around right now. “Dad will be back soon, okay? Behave.”
And so he checks out his hair one last time on the mirror at his bathroom and goes before he changes his mind.
The drive is pretty quick. It’s actually a route he does walking, but it’s still pouring rain so he’s carrying on. On a rainy day. To a coffee shop. To get a coffee he could have made at the comfort of his home with his own little coffee machine. But it’s okay, he will just play pretend for this time.
He stops the car and just realizes he forgot his umbrella. “Are you fucking serious, Jungkook?” 
Great. Brilliant. He feels so fucking dumb right now. 
Thankfully, due to the cold season he was wearing his black sweatshirt and sweatpants so the rain wouldn’t do so much damage. He quickly got off the car and ran inside the cafe. 
Surprisingly, it was full for a rainy night. Perhaps everyone had the usual thought; too lazy to make their own foods, they step out to grab something warm on the best coffee in the neighborhood. 
Jungkook plays the script on his head over and over again as he whipes his hair side to side like a fluffy dog to get rid of the water that soaked it a little bit. 
He looks ahead to the counter and his mind goes blank as he sees you over there now. At the little chair on the middle of the cafe. You seem lonely, messing with your hair a little bit, making a braid with a single tiny lock. It’s an old habit to make time pass, and Jungkook hates he remembers every little detail about you. His heart now has stopped, dropped to his knees. He really misses you. 
“Bee!” the waiter calls, and Jungkook recognizes the nickname. Knows it’s you, ‘cause he’s the one that gave it to you years ago. Used to call you bee just to make fun of you, ‘cause you’re such a sweet tooth. Never met someone that loves sugar more than you do, so he started to call you that since you two became friends.
He watches at the end of the waiting line as you get up, straight your hand and pick up two cookies in a little pink plate. Chocolate chips cookies. Your favorite. His favorite as well.
You start to eat slowly so he averts his eyes. Doesn’t want to be catch staring and look like a fucking weirdo. It’s not like he drove here to see you. Talk to you. Not at all, the coffee here is great. 
Finally the line walks and it’s his turn. “One black coffee, please. No sugar.” He says softly and suddenly feels his neck start to tingle. Knows you just realized he’s here, and you’re staring at him. Pretends he doesn’t tho, so continues to talk to the waitress as she asks who she would call when it’s ready “JK.” he says, then turns around to look for somewhere to sit and wait for the order. Looks over the table that you originally were, the one you posted a photo of. Then realizes now there’s a couple there, laughing together and taking pics of each other. He knows you. Knows you most likely offered the clingy couple the table, cause the house is full, and you wouldn’t take the table just for yourself. Even if it meant you would end up eating by the counter on the little puffed chair, you loved to drool over the pastries anyways.
He slowly looks the other way. Knows you’re on this direction so he has to be careful. You’re looking down. Seem sad all of the sudden and he just wants to hug you. For fucks sake. This is harder than he thought. 
He sighs again as he realizes the only spots available are the 2 chairs on your right. He chooses the one that’s a little bit far just to be safe.
As he walks down, his chest tightens a little bit more. Now he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It was a bad idea. Doesn’t even remember what the plan was at the first place. 
He can smell your perfume as he walks past you and it’s like someone punches his stomach. Your sweet smell fills his nostrils and he just wants to be closer. Shove his nose on your hair like he used to. Then go down your neck and feel your skin respond with little goosebumps as he moves along it softly. Damn it. Jungkook wants to curse the life out of you but he can’t even bring himself to be mad right now. Only knows he misses you. Your touch. Your kiss. You.
Finally he sits and pretends as if he didn’t notice you there, continually looking over his phone as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world trying to figure out what to do next.
“JK!” The waitress calls him and he’s put out of his own world, looking up right away. You seem to be startled too as you look directly at him. You two look at each other for what seems to be minutes in a trance. You give him a tiny smile. He gives one back.
“JK!” he hears the call again and pulls himself out of the trance, going to grab the coffee from the waitress who’s on your left side. He pays for it and looks at you again. You’re still looking at him. Kinda unsure on how to act, he figures. It’s okay, cause he doesn’t know how to either. 
As he sits, now on the chair closer to your right, he looks straight ahead and takes a gulp of the coffee. “Fuck!” he curses and pulls the coffee cup away as he burns his tongue with the damn thing.
You laugh thru your nose and his ears rapidly catch the sweet sound he used to hear all the time. Looks sideways to you, “Funny, huh?” he feels the air a little bit less heavy now, and he’s relieved.
“You just never change, Koo.” you say, still with that damn smile on your face he adores so much. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Realizes he never got over you, not even for a second. Probably never will.
“Don’t call me that.” those damned butterflies on his guts as he digests what you’ve said. You know it’s his favorite nickname. Knows only you call him by it. Knows he melts alway with this shit everytime.
You’re staring at him like that. So pretty. Soft brown sparkly eyes he missed so much. Now they seem to start hardening. “I’m sorry.” You say with a broken voice, and he feels the air shift all over again in a matter of seconds. Doesn’t know if you’re apologizing for the sweet nickname. For leaving him. For not calling. For not coming back. For everything. 
“How’s everything?” He tries to ease the air back again. “It’s been a minute.”
He sees the corner of your lips tremble a little bit and you gulp. His chest pangs. Wonders if he did the right thing by pretending you never existed for the past months now. Just wants to make up for all the time both of you lost.
“Yup, it has.” You reply after a while. “I’m doing okay. What about you?” 
You look up at him like everything is okay. If he didn’t know you, he would believe you were. But he knows better. You can’t hide anything from him, really. At least that’s what he thought. Knows he could be wrong, just like he was a year ago too.
“Cool. I’m cool.” he licks his dry lips and starts to think about his next move. Mind starts to blow up, a trillion thoughts at the same time and he’s back at it again. Can’t put his neurons to work properly. You’re actually right here in front of him, how is he supposed to?
Seems like you’re struggling yourself too. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to come up with an excuse to leave right now, or trying to find a subject in common as well.
 You stare at your now half eaten cookie like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. The other one is already on the bag to go. You probably were planning on taking home to eat when the late night sweet crave hits you, like he remembers. Will put it on the microwave so it gets warm again and take a cup of milk with you, like you used to. Turn on netflix and watch one of those lame cooking programs, ‘cause you loved to waste your time watching people losing their heads to make giant chocolate sculptures. He secretly loved watching it with you. It’s the reason he watched every episode back and forth while you were away too.  
“Is Bamie okay?” you murmur, now staring at your coffee cup with a little smile, thinking about the little puppy. Remembers how energetic and loving he was. Just like Jungkook. “You haven’t posted him in a while now.”
His tongue feels bittersweet again. He’s somehow happy knowing that you’ve been catching up with his life throught social media, even tho he disappears once in a while. At the same time, he’s sad. You could have been there for Bam. Should have, since you are the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Said he needed a little friend to match up with his chaotic energy. He ended up convinced and adopted the little guy. You always tended to get the best of him. Promised you’d help him to take good care of the baby, but only spent three months with Bam. Still, it’s like the puppy knows something is missing. Every night he looks over the door at any noise, like he’s expecting you to come throught it. Just like Jungkook used to do for the first months back then. 
“He’s great, actually. Bigger than I expected him to be. Eats like a fucking bear.” he giggles a little remembering his big boy. “He’s loud too. Don’t know how the neighbors still haven’t ganged up against me to kick us out of the apartment.”
You giggle alongside him imagining the chaos those two must have been doing together. “I figured. You always have spoiled him too much. Told ya he would get bad habits.”
“Hey! You spoiled him too!” he throws it right back. Remembers how you used to let Bam sleep with the two of you on bed. It took him months to break that habit from the puppy’s routine.
You look up at him and smiles. Bright now. You know he’s right. You’ve treated that puppy like it was your own son. Kinda misses the three of you together like a big happy family.
Suddenly a loud thunder is heard and both of you look out the foggy window at the same time. The sky is even darker now, angrily pouring rain like it’s the end of the earth. The coffee shop is emptier. Everyone outside your bubble must’ve realized that it was no longer safe to be out in the streets. But here you two are. Letting time pass by, enjoying each others presence even if it’s kinda weird. Kinda sad after all these months apart.
Jungkook knows it’s time to act. Step up and do what he was planning since he left home. Can’t bring himself to. Is too scared you will say no. Too scared you will let him down again. 
“I think I should get going.” you say softly wrapping up what is left of the cookie and putting it on your bag over the counter. “The weather is getting worst.”
“Want a ride home?” Jungkook quickly says before he looses the sudden courage. Sees you're taken aback so he continues, “I know you won’t be able to catch an uber or taxi right now.”
You still wonder a little bit. Jungkook’s anxiety is bubbling up again as he waits your answer. Why can’t you accept a simple offer? You can’t stand the thought of being around him? Do you hate him? Perhaps you don’t want him in your life ever again. You want to stay like this. Just be somebody that he used to know.
And that’s what scares him the most.
“I brought an umbrella” you finally say. Jungkook frowns. Knows you have no umbrella with you, he would’ve seen it by now.
He puffs. Knows it’s bullshit, but won’t call it. “Right. Suit yourself.” Then he gets up, forgets his full coffee by the counter, now cold. He feels fucking cold too. Already regrets coming to this stupid cafe, in this stupid weather, for no stupid reason. He takes his sweatshirt off and puts it over his head so the rain won’t get to him this time. Opens the door.
“Jungkook! Wait!” you suddenly say. “I actually didn’t.” you say pouty, coming up to him.
He doesn’t say anything. Just takes his sweatshirt, puts it over your head instead. He was wearing his taegeuk warriors jersey underneath it, will definitely get soacked but can’t bring himself to care at all. Just cares about you. Holds the glass door for you just like old times. You look up at him with your big doll eyes and he can’t do anything but look back. It’s like you want to talk through them. He wonders what’s going through your pretty little head right now. Probably overthinking too much, just like he does. 
“C’mon," he softly says "Let’s get you home.”
yayyy there it goes! my first ff ever i'm so happy <3 this was supposed to be an oneshot but i got carried away and wrote more than i expected so i had to cut it off hehe
also, please be aware that english is not my native language so i’m sorry if there’s any typos 🥹
i'll upload part 2 soon! if you want to be tagged pls comment under the post :) thanks for reading xx
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roseychains · 3 months
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Bone jaw٫ could you maybe pretty please do a thick thigh reader with jk men 👉👈 smut of fluff doesn't matter to me cause all I want is to finally see a thick thigh reader cause I never do its fine if you dont tho thanks for doing/considering this!
Jjk men with a reader with thick thighs ~
A/n: I’m literally sobbing I accidently clicked out of this tab and it erased everything I had done 😕 it’s okay tho I rewrote it all
C/w: everything is fluffy. Maybe slightly suggestive in getos & toji? But nothing smutty.
Bonus Gojo smut at the end, c/w: written by a minor, thigh fucking, somno but he wakes you up to ask for consent. Needy Gojo.
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Gojo: his love language is physical touch. He can’t keep his hands off you, esspecially your thighs. The bigger the better, I can imagine him using your thighs as pillows. Being a jujutsu sorcerer is stressful and tiring, and being the strongest, naturally he has to take on the most begrudging tasks. Everyone has their own way to desensitize after a long day. His method just so happens to be falling asleep on his gorgeous wifes thighs while she plays with his hair. It’s just so comforting to him, a change of pace from his otherwise violent day.
Geto: geto is obsessed with your body. Especially your supple thighs. He’s handsy, and finds them incredibly attractive. He also finds himself unable to look away from him, he can’t help it. One of his favorite things is making out with you while your straddle his lap and your thighs rest on either side of his waist. It drives him insane, being able to hold not one but both of your lovely thighs in his hands while he kisses you.
Nanami: this man is such a provider, he can’t help but keep a gentle hand resting on your large thigh at all times. Sitting at a restaurant? His hand is on your thigh. Being his passenger princess? His hand is on your thigh. It’s not rough, just enough pressure for him to feel your skin and you to feel his hand. He wants you with him 24/7, and having his hand on you is a relief. He knows your right next to him, safe.
Toji: this man can pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. And to him, you do. But one of his favorite things about carrying you in such a manor is your thighs draped over his abdomen. He will grab you buy the thighs and support you buy the thighs anytime he’d holding you. Be that pinning you against the wall, princess carrying you, or thrown over his shoulder, he’s holding you by your thighs.
Choso: he’s a big sensory guy. Whenever you guys are just laying around cuddling, he will poke and hold your thighs. He loves the way your skin feels to his fingers, how soft and pliant your thighs are, a nice contrast to all the sharp and rough feelings in the world. He’s fascinated , almost, absolutely lost in though when he’s touching your thighs. Start stroking his hair and he’s asleep. He’s just so cute
Bonus Gojo smut ~
Waking up in the middle of the night, with his cock throbbing in his boxers, he’s just so happy his lovely wife is beside him, wiling to help. He doesn’t want to wake you though or make you put in any work this time at night, so an idea pops into his head.
Rolling over and crawling on top of you, he’s pushing your hair gently away from your face, gently tapping your head till you squint your eyes open. “Pst.. I know it’s late, but I’m really fucking horny. Do you mind if I use your thighs?”
It takes you a minute to process what he just said, but after you understand what he’s saying, you nod your head, about to get up when he pushes you back down “nonono go back to sleep, I’ll be so gentle and quite you won’t even hear or see me. Please go back to sleep baby, I don’t need you to life a finger.” Leaning down and kissing your forehead.
“Mmm are you sure baby? I don’t helping” he nodded his head, cupping your face. “Your the sweetest love, but yes I’m sure. I don’t need an ounce of effort on your part, now go back to sleep sleeping beauty~” you nodded, closing your eyes and turning back to your side.
He returns to your back side, quickly freeing his member from his boxers, jerking himself a few times before lining himself up with your thighs, gently sliding his cock inbetween your plush thighs.
He began thrusting slowly, his tip poking out through your thighs, right over your panty covered clit. He kept his voice down, letting our soft moans as he pushed in and out of the space.
His thrusts sped up, rutting into the space between your thighs, needy hands grabbing your hips pulling himself as close to you as he could, and after a few, sloppy thrusts, he’s spitting thick ropes of cum out from between your legs, landing on the sheets and of course your thighs.
He puts his cock back in his boxers, pulling your body close to his, wrapping your body up in his, spooning you. Thinking to himself, “Eh. I’ll change the sheets in the morning.”
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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months
Text
Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {3}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It's Charles birthday and you have to find the perfect gift. Warnings: 18+ only, allusions to smut, alcohol WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four
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Charles’ Birthday Week 2022 “I need you to steal something for me.”
Lando blinked twice as he tried to compute your words before giving up. “What?”
Despite hearing the shower still running, cupped your hand around his ear and whispered, “I need you to go to Charles’ apartment and steal a race suit. It’s for his birthday and I’m running out of time. Please?” 
He perked up knowing you weren’t going to actually get him arrested and started to get a little excited as he nodded. “Okay, but you have to keep him distracted so I can borrow his keys.”
“You’re not even going to ask what I’m doing?” 
“No, I want to be surprised too.” Lando grinned and kissed your nose before getting out of bed and dressing in record time to leave. 
You had spent a long time wondering what to get Charles for a birthday gift when he could literally afford to buy everything he wanted. It had only been when an old video began circulating online a few days ago that the idea sparked to life. You just hoped Lando remembered to disable the alarm.
“Where’s Lan?” Charles asked when he found you alone in bed. 
For a moment you were struck by how good he looked with just a towel slung around his hips and water running down his chest. “He had to pop out, shouldn’t be too long.”
Charles smirked as he climbed onto the bed, the towel falling away as it got caught on the bedpost. “That’s a shame,” he chuckled, caging you beneath him as droplets of cold water fell onto your skin. “He can join in when he gets back.”
Your lips parted to meet his but before they could touch an alarm sounded on Charles’ phone and he pulled back with a frown. “That’s my home security…” He reached for the phone and you snatched it from him before he could open the live video feed and see what Lando was taking. “What are you doing?”
“It’s just Lando,” you admitted as you buried the phone under your pillow. “I sent him on an errand to your place so we could have some alone time.”
“Why would you do that?” Concern contorted Charles face as he sat up and pulled the sheet around his body. “Is this not working for you?”
“No, no, shit, it’s not like that. I love what we have.” The lie didn’t make him relax like you were hoping and your stomach knotted with the need to erase the look from his face. “I love you, and Lando.”
“Moi aussi,” he replied but he still kept his distance as he tried to understand. “Do you want to spend time one-on-one, is that it? I should have offered…”
“Charles, please, shut up,” you groaned as your head fell into your hands. “I don’t want that, I always want us to be together. When we are together I feel like I finally know where I belong, like I have a proper family, and I really wanted to do something special for your birthday to thank you for giving me that and now the surprise is ruined.”
The sheet slipped from his fingers as he reached for your hands and pulled them away from your face. “My birthday?” 
“Since I have to share you with everyone else for your party I thought I could give you a present early but I needed Lando to help. Now it’s not a surprise.”
“I still don’t know what it is, so that’s a surprise,” he reminded softly. 
You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I guess that’s the most important part. But the suspense is gone.”
“I think I can help with that,” he smirked and reached under the pillow to grab his phone before calling Lando on speakerphone. “Mon cher, where are you?”
“Well, uh, you see, we…needed milk,” Lando lied weakly before you heard the bell of the convenience store door in the retail shops downstairs before Monsieur Verne greeted him like an old friend.
“Oh, I thought, nevermind. I should call the police, I think someone has broken into my apartment.”
You clapped a hand over your mouth before you could laugh but a small choked sound broke through at Charles' growing amusement. 
“Fuck, okay it was me, please don’t call the cops,” Lando admitted as the elevator pinged and you heard his panicked voice repeat the request before the line cut out as it always did on the ride to the top. 
“You are so mean!” you gasped but it ended in laughter as Charles tossed his phone to the side table. 
“He lied to me,” Charles chuckled with a shrug and you both turned at the sound of the front door slamming shut and feet sprinting through the house. 
“I don’t think that can really count as a lie,” you teased before Lando filled the doorway, a bottle of milk in his hands even though there was a new bottle in the fridge. “Hi baby.”
“Please don’t call the cops,” he pleaded as he climbed onto the bed. “I forgot the passcode again.”
“No shit,” you giggled as you combed his hair out of his face and he relaxed enough to see the glint of mischief in Charles’ eyes. “He’s fucking with you.”
You took the bottle from his hands as Charles reached for him, tugging him against his body before taking his breath away with a heated kiss that left Lando in a daze. “No more lying,” Charles warned as he nipped at Lando’s bottom lip just hard enough to make him whimper. 
Raising your hand, he turned his attention to you and the small smirk tipping up your lips. “Yes, amour?”
You bit your lip and eyed the flushes on their cheeks, wanting that heat for yourself. “I lied too.”
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Your fingertips hurt and you remembered just how much you hated sewing when you were younger. You thought needlework would be like riding a bicycle and it took a few stabs to prove right as you looked at the final product with satisfaction. Just in time too.
The big celebration was set to start in a few hours but you and Lando were going to meet Charles at his house to get ready for his birthday party together. He had spent the afternoon at his mother’s with his brothers and it was times like this that you wished the relationship could be made known. Then you wouldn’t have to miss sharing these moments with him and his family. 
Next month would be the same with Lando’s birthday.
“Spitz, baby, ready to go?” Lando had been serious about wanting to be surprised and had kept out of the office which was filled with your computer desk and sim-setup. 
“Ready!” You grabbed the bright red gift box and folded Charles’ race suit up before carefully placing it in and sealing it up with a big bow. “What did you get him?”
“Another bottle of Tom Ford.”
“Nice,” you grinned. It was certainly a favourite for all of you and Charles knew it since he wore it more than any of the other bottles he owned, depleting the bottle quite a bit in the last few months. 
Lando carried the box for you, balancing his smaller one on top, and grabbing the keys for your Mercedes Maybach that was parked in the garage next to his Fiat Jolly. The heavy tinting that your car could provide was definitely needed since it was going to be impossible to keep your hands to yourself. Lando hadn’t even changed into his clubbing clothes and he looked mouthwatering, it was only going to get harder for you when he and Charles were dressed up in their finest.
It seemed like all of Monte Carlo had taken to the streets for their Saturday night and it was gridlocked. The minutes ticked away and you ground your teeth as you debated parking and making the rest of the short journey on foot to Charles apartment.
“We’re going to be late if this doesn’t start moving,” you grumbled and Lando reached across the driver’s seat to squeeze your thigh.
“Relax, Spitfire, it’s not race day.”
“Not helping, Norris. I’m not good with going slow.”
His warm laugh filled the car and his hand ran dangerously high up your thigh. “Don’t I know it.”
There was hardly any time to get dressed when you finally arrived at Charles’ and you were in such a rush that you completely forgot about the present in your car. It wasn’t until you climbed in the backseat and Charles found it waiting on his seat in the front.
“C’est risqué?” Charles asked as he lifted it up and gently shook it beside his ear, trying to figure out what it was.
You chuckled and leaned through the middle of the seats to fix up a few strands of his hair that had gone amiss. “It’s not a double ended dildo, if that’s what you were thinking.”
“So I can open it with the others?” You were suddenly nervous but gave him a nod because shying away wasn’t in your nature.
The exclusive club was just ahead and you knew it would be a few hours before you would be able to indulge yourself again so you trusted Lando not to crash and half climbed through the seats to kiss Charles.
“Happy almost Birthday.”
Three tables had been pushed together for all the presents the guests had bought but, after Lorenzo and Arthur had carried out a large cake and everyone had sung Happy Birthday, it was your gift he picked up first.
“Is it kinky?” Pierre asked in your ear as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “Personalised, diamanté cock rings?”
“I swear you think about our sex life more than we do,” you teased with a prod to his ribs. Charles scanned the crowd but like magnets his eyes found yours almost instantly and you gave him a smile as he tugged the bow open.
The material shook slightly in his hands and you wondered if maybe you had overstepped the line when he lifted it out of the box. Beside you, Pierre gasped and his arm fell away as Lando slipped in the narrow space.
“I, I, um, saw an interview,” you stammered as you felt the hundreds of eyes on you. Lando placed a comforting hand on the small of your back and you tried to calm your racing heart before continuing. “And you mentioned your grandma and your race suit and I thought you might like…”
Charles ran his hand over the stitching where you had unpicked the Shell logo, replacing it with a cross. “I love it. Thank you.” He slung the racing suit over his shoulder and crossed the floor to pull you into a friendly hug but his words were certainly more as he hid his lips in your hair. “I love you.”
Max found you as the lights dimmed and the party started to get into full swing. Lando had disappeared into the DJ booth while Charles was being pulled every which way by his friends and family wanting a minute of his time.
“That was nice of you, the gift,” Max said after he ordered two gin and tonics. “Kind of weird too.”
“I'm still more normal than you.”
“Debatable, we are equally fucked up,” he argued, passing one of the drinks to you. “Didn’t know you could sew.”
“You learn a whole lot of useful skills when you can’t afford new things,” you murmured into your glass before taking a sip. “It was either darn secondhand, worn and torn race suits or not race at all.”
“Fuck,” Max swore and tipped his glass back to gulp a few mouthfuls down before changing the subject from the reminder of your fathers lack of decency to provide for all his children equally. “What have you been up to? I hardly see you anymore.”
“I see you literally everyday at work.”
“Yeah, but that’s work, it doesn’t count. You haven’t raided my fridge in weeks.”
“I’m maturing, Max Emilian,” you said as you clapped him on the shoulder, “buying my own groceries and potpourri. You should be grateful, not asking me twenty questions.”
You turned away from the bar and grinned at the sight of Lando at the mixing board, a headset over one ear as he bobbed his head to music he was making. The dance floor was full of people from the F1 world but there were still a lot of faces you didn’t recognise and you wondered if Charles would’ve introduced you to them under other circumstances.
“Fine, no more questions if you come to breakfast tomorrow,” Max bartered and you nodded absentmindedly, throwing a thumbs up as you made your way to the dance floor.
You spotted Charles’ white shirt and snuck up behind him to cup your hands over his eyes. Rising up on your tiptoes your lips brushed the shell of his ear and you purred, “Hey, big boy, wanna dance?”
Your hands were torn away and you frowned as Charles turned, but the eyes that met yours weren’t the right shade. “Fuck me, you look like your brother from behind.”
“He went to the bathroom,” Arthur said as he jutted his thumb towards the dark hallway. “Do I even want to know…?”
“Nope, definitely not,” you cut him off. “Just have a few more drinks and forget this happened, yeah?”
“I don’t think I am ever going to forget you calling me, well Char, big boy, Verstappen,” he laughed.
“She’s not a Verstappen, petit frère,” Charles corrected him as he threw his arms around the both of you and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “What did I miss?”
“She called me-”
“Arthur!”
Arthur clamped his mouth shut with a laugh that rocked his shoulders and he wriggled out of his brother's grasp to disappear into the crowd. Charles kept his arm around you as he started dancing along to the music Lando was playing, both of their smiles brightening when their eyes met.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked in your ear.
Your nose wrinkled and you shook your head. “Nothing, just an inchident.”
Click here for part four.
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lostfracturess · 6 days
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Hi Nici! Not sure if you take these types of requests (more a plea for the soul at this point sigh) but is there a possibility that you write one of your amazing short one-shot where reader is having a bad body image day and Satoru comfort-to-fuck the hell out of these silly thoughts? God do I crave some body worship from of this man. Please, please, please?
18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content
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boyfriend!gojo who wakes up to you avoiding eye contact and tugging at the hem of your oversized t-shirt. he knows that look, knows the subtle self-doubt clouding your eyes.
boyfriend!gojo who wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on you shoulder and murmuring, "what's troubling you, love?"
boyfriend!gojo who listens patiently as you voices you insecurities, never interrupting or dismissing you feelings. he understands that these doubts are real to you.
boyfriend!gojo who gently cups you face in his hands, tilting it up so their eyes meet. "look at me," he says softly, his thumbs tracing the curve of you cheeks.
boyfriend!gojo who tells you with unwavering sincerity, "you are the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. every curve, every freckle, every inch of you is perfect to me."
boyfriend!gojo who kisses away the tears that well up in you eyes, each kiss a silent promise of love and acceptance.
boyfriend!gojo who knows that one day won't erase all you insecurities, but he's committed to loving you through them. he'll be you constant reminder of how truly beautiful you are, inside and out.
boyfriend!gojo who suggests you go out for ice cream, knowing your favorite parlor has the best chocolate fudge sundae.
boyfriend!gojo who pulls you into a playful twirl as you walk down the street, holding your hand tightly and stealing kisses whenever he gets the opportunity.
boyfriend!gojo who orders your favorite sundae with extra whipped cream and sprinkles, a mischievous grin on his face as he watches your eyes light up with childlike delight.
boyfriend!gojo who leans in close as you share the sundae, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "you know, you look absolutely stunning today."
boyfriend!gojo who sees the surprise in your eyes, followed by a flicker of doubt. he gently takes your hand, intertwining your fingers as he looks deeply into your eyes.
boyfriend!gojo who tells you with unwavering sincerity, "i mean it. the way the sunlight catches your hair, the way your smile lights up your whole face... you're breathtaking."
boyfriend!gojo who continues to shower you with compliments throughout the day.
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nsfw
boyfriend!gojo who, as the day goes on, can tell that something is still bothering you. he decides to take matters into his own hands (and other parts) to help ease your worries.
boyfriend!gojo who leads you to the bedroom back at home, where he begins to undress you slowly, taking his time to show you just how much he adores every part of you.
boyfriend!gojo who kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as he holds you close.
boyfriend!gojo who, before things go any further, stops and looks into your eyes. "i want you to forget all your doubts right now," he says firmly. "you are amazing, and i am so lucky to be with you. remember that, okay?"
boyfriend!gojo who kisses you again, harder this time, as he guides you towards the bed to worship your body, taking his time to explore every curve and angle.
boyfriend!gojo who kisses you fiercely, his tongue probing deep into your mouth as his hands roam over your body.
boyfriend!gojo who pushes you back onto the bed, spreading your legs wide apart. he kneels down between them and presses his lips to your inner thigh.
boyfriend!gojo who wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you open wide as he slowly, tantalizingly, kisses his way up to your core, his breath warm against your skin.
boyfriend!gojo who, without warning, he dives in, his tongue expertly circling your clit. you gasp, arching your back as he sucks and licks, building you up higher and higher.
boyfriend!gojo who slides two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out in rhythm with his tongue. you moan loudly, grabbing onto the sheets as he curves them upward, hitting that spot that makes you writhe underneath him.
boyfriend!gojo who, just when you think you can't take it anymore, slows down, drawing out the tension until you are practically begging for release.
boyfriend!gojo who has you orgasm in mere minutes when as he resumes his pace, crying out his name as you come undone beneath him. but he's not done yet.
boyfriend!gojo who crawls up the bed, positioning himself above you. his cock is rock hard and already leaking pre-cum. he rubs the tip along your wet folds, teasing you before pushing inside.
boyfriend!gojo who stretches you in the most delicious way possible. he starts slow, giving you time to adjust to his size. he took his time, moving slowly and deliberately, making sure to hit every sensitive spot of yours.
boyfriend!gojo who pays careful attention to every reaction, every sigh and moan that escapes your lips. whenever he senses a hint of discomfort or insecurity, he pauses and shifts his approach, determined to banish any negative thoughts from your mind.
boyfriend!gojo who soon picks up speed, thrusting hard and fast, pounding into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. you match his pace, wrapping your legs around his waist as you pull him deeper inside of you.
boyfriend!gojo who loves the sound of flesh slapping flesh, mixed with your cries and moans. nothing gets him off more than your voice really.
boyfriend!gojo who knows exactly which angel to take, what pace to pick to have you orgasm again in mere minutes.
boyfriend!gojo who groans loudly as he releases inside of you, pulsing deep within your walls. exhausted and spent, you collapse onto the bed together, panting heavily.
boyfriend!gojo who looks over at you, his expression soft and gentle. "did that help chase away your doubts?" he asks quietly.
boyfriend!gojo who gins when you say yes, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "good. because you are beautiful and deserve to feel nothing but happiness, my love."
boyfriend!gojo who cuddles with you in bed afterwards, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest and planting soft kisses on your forehead, your cheeks and your lips.
boyfriend!gojo who whispers sweet nothings in your ear. he tells you how much you mean to him, how beautiful you are, and how lucky he is to have you in his life.
boyfriend!gojo who plays with your hair as you lie in bed together. he gently runs his fingers through your curls, untangling any knots until you fall asleep, holding you close.
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author's note: sorry that your request was in my inbox for so long, and that i didn't write a full story bc that would take forever too, but i tired to write a little story in headcanons. hope you enjoy, felt very soft today haha :)) <33 headcanons m.list
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andvys · 7 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 20
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Warnings: angst, kinda mean!Eddie, mentions of an ED, fluff at the end
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Tension arises between you and Eddie when Steve steps back into your life.
Word count: 8k+
A/N: If there's any typos or mistakes, you didn't see them! @hellfire--cult thanks for feeding me ideas, I'm blessed to have you
series masterlist
-
You can’t explain the awful feeling in your stomach or the suffocating feeling in your chest.
You have trouble understanding why it all feels so wrong when it’s all you have dreamed of for so long. Steve kissed you in a way he had never kissed you before, not even when you had just started dating did he kiss you with so much passion and love the way he did last night. 
His touch was gentle, his lips were soft and he was so desperate to feel you against him – you were just as desperate and the kiss just showed how much you still love him, how much you still want him, how much you crave him even after everything that happened between you both. But, not even the passion of the kiss could erase the things he had done to you. 
The moment it all caught up to you, the moment something else came to your mind, you pushed him away and you ran, you ran away from him and now you feel guilty for it but you couldn’t stay, you couldn’t stick around any longer. 
You found Robin and Chrissy, blabbering out what happened to you before you begged them to take you home.
Now, you are laying in your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You’re glad that you haven’t had much alcohol last night. The sharp pain in your lower stomach is already bad enough, you wouldn’t want to deal with both a headache and the awful cramps. 
You don’t know how, but you manage to drag yourself out of the comfort of your bed. When the pain in your stomach gets sharper, you suddenly regret the plans that you had made with your friends for today. 
Your heart leaps to your throat when your phone starts ringing. You don’t bother to hurry down the stairs to pick it up. You know who it is but you aren’t ready to talk to him. 
Eddie had done nothing wrong, he had never done anything wrong. 
But the thought of talking to him or even facing him fills you with an awful feeling, one that you can’t describe. You know you can’t run from it, you had made plans with Robin, Chrissy and Eddie. 
You let the phone ring and disappear into the bathroom, you close the door and drown out the voice of the shrill sound. 
You hope that a hot shower will help you get rid of that sickening feeling but your mind can’t rest and every time you think back to that kiss, you feel that immense guilt. Why? You wanted it, you wanted it just as much as he did. 
Steve is single and so are you, there is not a reason for you to feel guilty about something that you had wanted for so long. 
Or, maybe you feel guilty for doing this to yourself… again. Because why are you letting him back in? Why are you giving him the chance to hurt you again? 
It doesn’t matter how he feels about you, it doesn’t matter how much he loves you, it doesn’t matter, not anymore. 
He hurt you too many times for you to just let him back into your life like this. 
You cannot give him the chance to hurt you again. 
The clock strikes 2 when the doorbell rings. You furrow your brows when you look at the watch on your vanity, the one you never wear. Eddie is always on time when it comes to you but never when he picks up Robin first, she is always running late. You take one last look at yourself, fluffing out your hair a little more before you drop the lipgloss on the table. You smoothe down your skirt and reach for your little purse, picking out your favorite cardigan on the way out. 
The doorbell rings again when you walk down the stairs, “I’m coming!” You sigh. 
When you open the door, you don’t expect to see him on the other side. The smile that tugged at your lips instantly falls and tension arises in your body. 
“Hi.”
Steve. 
Your shoulders slump as you take in the sight of him. The soft and apologetic eyes, the hopeful look in his features. The messy hair. 
“Hey,” you whisper. 
“C-Can we talk?” 
You’d rather not. The fear that he will pull you back in is too big. 
“What about?” 
You keep holding onto the door, staring at him as you try to calm the feeling in your chest. He had already walked you home last night, even though you tried to protest against it, he could’ve talked to you then but he stayed quiet, you did too. 
He licks his lips as he looks down nervously. The atmosphere around you had changed yet again. You were ready to let him back into your life. You smiled at him again, you talked to him again, you wanted to be his friend – he ruined it all with a kiss and he knows it.
“I-I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 
As you look into his eyes, you know, you just know, he is genuine about it. There’s remorse lingering in them and fear – fear of losing you again. 
“Steve,” you sigh. 
“I-I wasn’t – I wasn’t thinking about how much I would hurt you again a-and, I-I just wanted, no, needed to kiss you again. I messed up, I was a selfish prick. And I promise, it won’t happen again if you don’t want it.” He is pleading with his eyes as he looks down at you, “I loved every second of it b-but I shouldn’t have done it. I-I just, please forgive me, dolly.”
Steve had never begged for forgiveness when you were still together, he had done so many awful things, he hurt you so many times but he never begged for forgiveness, he just dismissed them and moved on and acted like he had never done anything wrong. 
“I won’t ever do it again,” he says, even though kissing you is all he wants to do. “I just, I don’t want to lose you again.”
You don’t want to lose him again either. 
Something about the look in his eyes and the sadness in his voice makes you feel guilty. 
You nod. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, “just, promise me that you won’t kiss me again.”
“I promise!” He exclaims with wide eyes, “I promise, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I-I know that we’re not exactly friends but I-I’d love for us to be friends again.”
Right now, you don’t see the Steve that hurt you. You see the boy you used to play hide and seek with. The boy who used to pick flowers for you. The boy who used to pick you up in the afternoons to get sundaes at Benny’s. The boy you made a pact with when you were little kids – that you would stay friends, no matter what. 
And Steve really needs a friend. He doesn’t have Tommy anymore, he doesn’t have Nancy anymore – who is left?
“Steve?” 
“Yes?” He asks, furrowing his brows when you completely dismiss his words. 
“Who do you hang out with?” 
“No one,” he says without a single moment of hesitation. 
It might be his fault but you still feel bad for him. You and Tommy were his only friends and now he has neither one of you left. 
He has no one. 
No friends and not even his parents to come home to – they are never there.
Maybe it’s the image of him alone or maybe it’s just the look in his eyes that makes you feel heartbroken, sad for the man in front of you, the one who used to be your everything. 
Suddenly, you feel the need to keep the promise that you had made as kids. 
You open your mouth to speak but the sound of a car – a van pulling up to your driveway makes you freeze in your spot. Your heart leaps to your throat and you swallow harshly. 
Eddie.
Oh no. You had been ignoring his calls all day, breaking the promise that you would call after every party – you didn’t, at least not last night. You couldn’t. 
He gets out of the van and closes the door. You are so focused on him that you don’t see Chrissy and Robin on the other side of the van. Eddie stares at Steve’s car with a frown on his face and when he looks your way, he freezes. 
Steve notices the panicked look in your eyes, the nervousness is written all over your face. He turns around. Eddie stands there with a frown on his face, anger in his features and disappointment.
Robin and Chrissy share a look when they find Steve on your front porch. They are the firsts to walk towards you, glancing at Eddie nervously. 
You tear your eyes away from Eddie when Chrissy walks up the stairs, brushing past Steve, completely ignoring his presence. 
“Hey!” She smiles but with a questioning look in her eyes. You know what she is thinking; what is he doing here? 
“Hey Chris,” you smile and greet her with a hug. She places her hand on your shoulder when she pulls back, eying the skirt you are wearing, her eyes lighten up, “oh my god, is it the one we bought last week together?” 
“Yes!”
“I love it, it’s so cute!” 
“Don’t you have the same one?” Robin asks, chuckling as she approaches you, eying Steve weirdly. 
He rolls his eyes and sighs. 
“Yes but it’s not the same color, Robs!” 
Robin gives Chrissy a teasing smile before she looks over at you, “hey wild child, are you good after last night?” She tilts her head in his direction, raising her brows at you as though to say ‘what the fuck is he doing here?’ 
You would’ve laughed at the nickname she just gave you if it wasn’t for the intense look that Eddie is giving you as he walks up the stairs as well. You see his clenched jaw, he is angry – angry that you ignored his calls, angry to see him here. But there is also a hint of sadness in his brown orbs and you can’t take it – you can’t stand to see even a sliver of sadness in his eyes. 
He quickly masks it with something else, just the way he always does. 
“Thanks for the call, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically, furrowing his brows with a fake smile on his lips, “I mean for thanks for letting me know that you got home safe. Oh and super nice of you to keep ignoring my calls all day too.” 
You can’t even look at him so you look down. 
Steve’s brows stayed furrowed, the tension and the awkwardness isn’t hard to miss. Eddie looks at him in a way that almost makes him shrink under the weight of his eyes. So he turns back to you. You are blinking, chewing on your bottom lip and breathing heavily. You feel guilty, so guilty that you can’t even look at Eddie. Steve’s heart drops a little. He remembers how he felt when Nancy kissed him, how he couldn’t look into your eyes without feeling like the guilt was eating at him. He felt horrible, even when it wasn’t a kiss he initiated or even let happen, he still felt guilty, just as guilty as you are feeling, right now. 
But you and Eddie are just friends, right? 
Robin and Chrissy look at each other awkwardly. 
“Eddie, I-I’m sorry,” you say softly, “I had the worst headache–”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he mumbles, glancing at Steve.
Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie’s attitude. 
“Look, can we just go?” Robin asks, wanting to escape the awkward situation. 
“Yes please,” Chrissy mumbles. 
You look up, slowly looking between your friends. You already know that Robin and Chrissy are both going to be too busy with each other and Eddie is clearly pissed – you have seen him angry before but the anger was never directed at you and you know very well how he can be when he’s pissed.
Before you can stop the words from spilling, you look up at Steve. 
“Steve is coming too.”
All four of them turn to you, looking at you wide eyed – as though you had gone crazy. 
Chrissy looks annoyed, Robin looks confused, Eddie looks at you in disbelief and Steve, he stares at you with softened eyes. 
“I invited him,” you lie. 
Steve shakes his head at you, he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to include him, this is not what he came here for. He just wanted to apologize and make things right. 
Robin looks away with a clenched jaw and Chrissy looks down to hide her eye roll. 
“Can I talk to you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, tilting his head. 
“Yeah,” you whisper, nervously. 
You walk past Steve and the girls, clutching your cardigan tightly as you step out on the porch. Eddie places his hand on your lower back and leads you down the stairs and towards his van. 
“Eddie, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to ignore you–”
“Did something happen?” He asks and finally swallows the anger down. He can hear the trembling in your voice, the shakiness of your hand which might be caused by something else. 
He feels the urge to cup your cheeks so he can see your eyes but you keep looking down at the graveled ground. 
You simply shake your head. 
“Why didn’t you call me?” He asks softly, this time. 
“I was really tired and I drank too much, I wasn’t thinking.”
You raise your head a little, daring to look at him. 
“You’re lucky Robin called me otherwise I would’ve broke into your house.”
Your lips twitch and you break into a smile, “wouldn’t be the first time.”
He can’t help but smile back at you, his anger melting away. 
“I-I’m sorry for inviting him, I know none of you want him around.”
“Then why did you invite him?” He asks, not out of anger but out of curiosity.
You can see the annoyance lingering in his eyes, the same annoyance you saw in Chrissy’s and Robin’s eyes. 
You don’t know why you feel the need to explain yourself but when you look at him, you know you have to. 
“He is just a friend now, I promise. I-I don’t want him like that – he’s just my friend.” 
Eddie’s eyes skip over your face. Your brows are furrowed, eyes pleading and filled with honesty – he just doesn’t understand what the guilt is for. 
“I still don’t understand why he has to be included.”
“He’s alone, Eddie.”
His brows knit together and he shakes his head. 
“No, he isn’t? He’s with Nancy and bitchy Carol and fucktard Tommy–”
“He broke up with Nancy and he doesn’t have friends. Not anymore.”
Oh. 
If there is one thing Eddie knows, it’s loneliness. And he can’t help but pity him. There isn’t much that he knows about Steve except for the things that you told him and his absent parents – it’s something that he unfortunately can relate to. He knows what it’s like to have no one. But fear grows inside of him at the news of Steve being single. 
“Fine, don’t expect me to not mess with him though.”
You roll your eyes, snorting at his words. 
“You two will be menaces to each other.” 
Whenever Eddie felt vulnerable, angry or hurt, he’d put on a mask, he would hide his true feelings by putting on a front. He had never felt that need to do that with you, not until now. 
He watches you with a weird feeling in his chest when you walk back to Steve. 
Robin gives Eddie a pitiful look but the latter refuses to show how insecure or sad he is. He puts on a fake smile and looks over at Steve. 
“I always wanted to take your girl for a ride.” 
Steve’s head snaps towards him, halting his movements, he stops jingling with his car keys and gives Eddie a weird look. 
“Excuse me?” 
Robin and Chrissy look at you before they turn to each other, erupting into a fit of giggles at the double innuendo. 
Eddie briefly glances at you before he nudges his chin into the direction of Steve’s BMW. 
Steve squints his eyes, “yeah, keep dreaming, Munson.”
Eddie chuckles, “I will.”
“Wait, are we taking your car?” You ask, turning to Steve. 
Robin mumbles something under her breath and Chrissy shushes her in response, nudging her shoulder. 
“Can we talk, y/n?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, at the movies.” 
You know exactly what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t want to intrude and he probably feels awkward to be around your friends. 
“Come on.”
Steve sighs, knowing that you won’t take no for an answer, he just gestures for you all to get in his car. He expects you to take the passenger seat but instead, you take Eddie’s hand in yours and lead him to the passenger side. 
“You can sit in the front,” you smile at Eddie as he looks down at you in confusion. 
“I’ll sit in the back with Chris and Robin.”
“Uh–” 
“Let’s go before the movie starts!” You say before anyone else can protest. 
Eddie and Steve share a look, not a very excited or happy one, it’s more one of annoyance. Neither of them want to spend time with the other. But they get in the car nonetheless. 
Chrissy and Robin get in as well, begrudgingly so. 
“Are we still going out for pizza afterwards?” Robin asks, looking between Chrissy, Eddie and you. 
Steve looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing the way you scrunch your face up in disgust. 
“Yeah, we can order some when we get back to my place,” you mumble, “I definitely need some McDonald's today though.” 
Robin raises her brows in surprise, “what, is that hangover food for you or something?” 
Chrissy chuckles beside her. 
“Not exactly.”
No. It’s not your hangover food. Steve knows it. You only ever craved McDonald’s once a month. 
“Hey Robin, did you tell y/n about your new job yet?” She asks, trying to ease the tension in the car. 
Your lips part when you look over at your friend, “wait, what new job? You found something new?” 
“Yes!” Robin says, pretending to be excited, “I’m starting next week.”
“Where?”
“Scoops Ahoy!”
Chrissy smiles, nodding in excitement. 
Steve turns around, looking at you, surprised. His lips twitch and you almost laugh. Eddie glances between the two of you.
“Oh,” he furrows his brows, “the ice cream shop, huh?” 
“Yup.”
Robin doesn’t even acknowledge him properly, just nods into his direction. Oh, this is going to be interesting. 
“So, have you met your co-workers yet?” You ask. 
She twists the rings on her fingers, shaking her head. 
“Nope, I guess, I’ll meet them on monday.”
“You don’t have to,” you giggle.
“Huh?” 
The look of confusion amuses even Steve. 
You point your finger at Steve, who waves at Robin mockingly. 
Her eyes widen, for a moment she looks shocked before she lets out a groan of annoyance, “you gotta be kidding me..” 
“Hey there, co-worker,” Steve says, unable to hold back his chuckle. 
She slumps back, looking very miserable before her eyes light up and she sits back up, “wait! Does that mean that you have to wear one of those sailor uniforms too?”
At that, Steve groans and looks away. 
“Sailor uniforms?” 
“Come by on monday and you’ll see Steve in a pair of skimpy sailor shorts,” Robin winks at you. 
While you and Chrissy laugh and even Eddie joins in, smirking at Steve, “are you gonna wear some slutty shorts, Harrington?”
“Shut up,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. 
“Alright, alright,” Robin mumbles, “can you start the car, dingus? We’re gonna miss the movie!”
“Yeah,” he sighs as he starts the car.
-
The drive to the movies wasn't the most joyful one you’ve been on. Eddie kept pestering Steve about his music choices. Steve kept rolling his eyes at him and Chrissy and Robin kept whispering to you. 
‘Why is he here?’
‘Why did you invite him?’
‘Are you with him again?’ 
‘What about –’
You never got to hear the end of Robin’s question, Chrissy slapped her shoulder before she could finish it. 
Walking into the movie theater has always been a nostalgic feeling to you, it always takes you back to your childhood. It’s oddly comforting. The smell of popcorn and butter makes your mouth water and you can’t wait to dig into the sweet treat. 
After buying the tickets, Chrissy takes your hand and leads you over to the lounge area while the others go to buy the snacks. 
The moment you take a seat, she starts bombing you with questions again. Rambling and throwing one after the other at you, not even giving you the chance to reply. 
“Chrissy–”
“No, please don’t tell me that you’re getting back with him,” she says, crinkling your nose. She watched you cry over him more than once, even before the break up. 
You shake your head, “no,” you mumble, taking a look at the others as they stand by the counter. 
“I just – he’s different now.”
Chrissy scoffs at your words, rolling her eyes. 
“Right, they all change when they get dumped.”
“He didn’t get dumped, he broke up with Nancy – and it doesn’t even matter! I don’t want to date him, I-I just, we’re friends now, I guess.”
Chrissy knows that Steve had always been more than just your boyfriend. He was your best friend, long before she became friends with you. 
“I just don’t want him to hurt you again, y/n.”
You tilt your head and smile at her, “please, don’t worry about me. I won’t let that happen, not again. We’re friends. That’s all.”
She nods at your words and glances at the others. Steve and Eddie seem to be fighting about something, she can’t help but chuckle in amusement. 
Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, leaning closer to him to mock him about something. 
“What’s so funny?” 
She tilts her head at you, “well, I guess, Steve tagging along makes things more entertaining.”
With furrowed brows, you take a look at them – Eddie is holding a bag of popcorn in one hand, throwing some at Steve with the other.
“Guys!” You hear Robin’s annoyed voice. 
You snort. 
Robin is the first to come back, annoyance written all over her face,“they are so immature.”
She hands Chrissy the bag of popcorn and a box of Reese's pieces. 
“They’re men, what do you expect?”
“You’re right,” Robin says to Chrissy. 
“Sweetheart, tell Steve that you prefer salted popcorn,” Eddie says when he comes back, “he insisted on sweet popcorn.” 
Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie, stopping next to him. 
“Here we go again,” Robin mumbles under her breath. 
Steve already knows your answer so he doesn’t even look at you expectedly. Eddie seems to look like he knows your answer too and he does, but today it isn’t the right one. 
“Uh.” You get up and look at your best friend with an apologetic look in your eyes as you reach for the bag in Steve’s hand. “I’m sorry…”
Eddie’s eyes flash with confusion and his face falls. If you didn’t feel so guilty already, you would’ve been amused by the look of betrayal on his face. He is so dramatic. You’d be lying if you said that it’s something you don’t love about him though.
“W-What?” He scoffs as his lips set in a pout, “we always get salted popcorn!” 
“Yeah and it’s my favorite but I’m craving something sweet today. I’m sorry, Ed’s.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and looks away from you, “and how did you know that?” He asks Steve. 
Steve could have been smug about it, especially, seeing as it makes Eddie mad. 
He shrugs, “it’s just something that we always used to get when we came here,” he lies. 
Suddenly, you want to run, you want to escape. So you grab your purse and leave the group, pretending to look at the ticket that you were holding all this time. Chrissy gets up to follow you and so does Steve. 
Robin and Eddie stay back though, glancing at each other.
It’s not that they hate him. They don’t. But they know what he did to you, they know how much he hurt you, how much you suffered because of him and he had done nothing to earn your trust back. He just weaseled his way back into your life and you let him. 
And despite his jealousy and the fear of losing you, Eddie still isn’t as angry as Robin is – because he thinks about your words; ‘He’s alone, Eddie.’
Eddie and Robin follow the three of you, he watches you, he watches how you interact with Steve and Chrissy, laughing at something he said. 
“I’m so fucking pissed,” Robin says. 
“Why?” He asks but keeps his eyes on you. 
“Because he will just hurt her again. I can’t believe she feels bad for him after the shit he did to her.”
“Well, can’t really fight her when she’s this stubborn,” Eddie shrugs. 
“Yeah, but he doesn’t want to be friends with her – I mean, when Billy kissed her he was like all rough and shit, and then Heather – fuck, when Heather told me she kissed Steve, I was fuming!” She says, looking up as she groans in anger. 
Eddie feels like someone had dropped a bucket of ice cold water over him. He freezes and halts in his tracks, eyes widening as he feels his heart sinking to his stomach. 
“W-What?” Eddie mumbles. 
Robin stops walking when she notices that Eddie is no longer beside her. She glances at the three of you before she turns back to him and sees the look of confusion and sadness in his eyes – fuck. She should have known. She should’ve known that you didn’t tell him. That is why you didn’t call him. That is why you didn’t pick up any of his calls. 
“S-She kissed Steve a-and Billy?” He asks with widened eyes, “please, tell me you’re joking, Robin.”
Robin’s own eyes widen as well and she starts shaking her head wildly, “no! It was spin the bottle.” 
A part of him feels relieved but the other part is still tense. His eyes begin to hurt. 
He curses at himself for not being there last night. You wouldn’t have to kiss Billy if he was there, you wouldn’t have to kiss Steve. 
“B-But it was just a game, right?”
A guilty feeling overcomes Robin and she already begins to regret that she even mentioned it. 
She wants to say ‘yes, it was just a game’ but Robin was never a good liar and even if she tried, he would know that she is not telling the truth. 
“It was just a game,” Eddie repeats, “her kissing Steve was just a game, right?” 
He doesn’t even care about Billy, the kiss with him was just a game. 
“Eddie–”
“Come on, Robin,” he mumbles, shakily. 
He knows he has no right to be upset over a kiss. You are not even his to lose. But he always hoped, deep down, he always hoped that there might be a chance for him someday. 
“She told me that he kissed her again afterwards – outside.”
Eddie’s shoulders slump, his heart feels heavy in his chest. He feels so stupid to think that you wouldn’t do this. You could only resist him for so long. Steve Harrington still has your heart after all. 
“But Eddie, I don’t think that it meant anything to her. She rejected him and then came to find me.”
Her words do nothing to make him feel better. 
Robin looks at him, anxiously. She knows how resentful Eddie can be when he’s hurt and by the look on his face, she knows that he is deeply hurt. 
“Are you guys coming?” Chrissy asks, interrupting Robin who was just about to say something. 
Eddie looks down with a clenched jaw. He doesn’t even want to be here anymore. 
“Yeah. Come on, Eddie.”
Eddie follows begrudgingly. He knows that he shouldn’t feel that way. It shouldn’t hurt as much. You are still just friends after all, you are not his girlfriend, you are not his, your heart isn’t his. 
You never gave any signs that you wanted him back, not even once. 
He shouldn’t be this upset. He shouldn’t feel so jealous. 
But it isn’t just the kiss or the kisses. 
You have only spent one evening with Steve, kissed him twice and you are already distancing yourself from him. Ignoring him and his calls. He is already losing you. 
His mood only gets worse when he finds you sitting next to him, giggling at something he said to you. He rolls his eyes and sits down on the other side of you. 
You turn away from Steve and towards him, smiling at him, “hey.”
“Hey,” he grumbles. 
He doesn’t even see the creased brows or the saddened look in your eyes, he’s staring at the white screen. 
“How was the campaign last night?” 
“Good.”
“Okay,” you mumble and lean back again, you frown in confusion. Is he this upset over some salted popcorn? 
Steve looks over at Eddie, his jaw is clenched, he blinks faster than usual, he is pissed. He was pissed before but not like this, he seemed to have calmed down on the drive here and even while they were at the counter, buying snacks, he seemed fine and even laughed and teased him, now he just looks angry. 
He glances at Robin who sits next to him, she is chewing on her bottom lip and bouncing her knee, completely ignoring Chrissy’s rambling. The room might be dark, but Steve can see the guilt in her eyes. 
“Hey Robin,” he whispers. 
She rolls her eyes at him, “what?”
“You didn’t tell Eddie about the kiss did you?” He whispers, careful that you aren’t listening. 
She freezes a little and that is enough of an answer. Shit. Steve doesn’t really care about Eddie or about what he feels. He understands him but he still doesn’t care. 
He cares about you. Back at your house, he saw the way you avoided Eddie’s eyes, the way you looked so scared and guilty, you were scared of his reaction that’s why you avoided him. You didn’t want him to know. 
Now he knows and you don’t know that he does. 
“Are you not gonna tell me about it?” Steve hears you asking him. 
Eddie doesn’t even glance at you, he only leans further away from you. 
“I would’ve told you if you picked up the fucking phone last night.”
You’re taken aback by the anger in his words, by the curse words that he never ever directed at you. 
Normally, you would have said something but the guilt that you are still feeling makes you unable to talk. Besides, you are too intimidated to say anything back, scared that he will lash out on you because, clearly, he is deeply upset about something. 
Steve watches how you turn away from him, you roll your eyes but the sadness gives away how hurt you are by Eddie’s attitude towards you. 
Steve glares at Eddie, the urge to whack him across his curly head is strong. 
He nudges your shoulder and gives you a soft smile when you look at him, “you okay?” 
You hesitate, “...yes.”
Eddie narrows his eyes to look at the two of you and he keeps doing it during the whole movie. 
Normally, you would comment on certain scenes, so would he. Normally, you would laugh together and you would lean your head on his shoulder, he would wrap his arm around you. 
Today, he leans away from you and after a few attempts to talk to him or make him laugh, you give up when he keeps brushing you off. You lean away from him as well. He doesn’t comment on anything and neither do you anymore. He is still pissed and you are still tense, your mind is filled with thoughts that you don’t want to think about and despite the painkillers you took earlier, your stomach is still cramping. You are hurting today. 
Despite the funny moments in the movie, you cannot laugh, in fact, you feel like crying – whether it’s your period making you overly emotional or just Eddie.
Eddie is giving you the cold shoulder and it hurts, it fucking hurts. 
He had never done anything like that to you before. 
You have been close friends for almost a year now and not once had he said or done anything to hurt you. But now, he is giving you the silent treatment, the cold shoulder and you can’t stand it because it’s something that Steve used to do to you. 
Whenever he was upset about something, he wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t tell you what was going on in his mind, he wouldn’t tell you what you did wrong, he would simply give you the cold shoulder and ignore you for the rest of the day.
And now Eddie is doing the same to you. 
Eddie who you thought would never do this. 
The moment the credits start rolling, you jump up from the seat and push past Eddie. You rush out of the room after making up some excuse that you have to use the bathroom. 
“Is she okay?” Chrissy asks Eddie. 
“How would I know?” He snaps at her and gets up as well, leaving the others behind as he makes his way out as well. 
Chrissy scrunches her face up and looks at Robin, “what’s gotten into him?”
“Jesus..” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, “what a brat.” 
“Who?” Chrissy asks as she takes a proper look at his face for the first time today, “Eddie?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re right,” she mutters under her breath as she gets up, “I can’t believe I’d ever agree with you.”
Steve isn’t offended by her words. He knows that your friends never liked him and he doesn’t blame them. They have always been protective of you and of your feelings, something that he wasn’t when you were dating. 
“Let’s just go,” Robin says, “I need the pizza now.”
After some internal pep talk and five minutes of trying to keep yourself from breaking down, you leave the bathroom and step back into the empty hallway – almost empty hallway. You are almost startled by his presence. Out of all your friends, you didn’t expect to see him waiting for you. 
You halt in your tracks. He is looking at you the same way he did when he just came to your place. 
Eddie looks at your eyes, he notices the glassiness right away, whether you cried or not, he feels awful, despite the jealousy and the anger that he is still feeling. 
“Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” You finally snap at him. 
If he wasn’t so on edge already, he would’ve laughed and he would’ve loved the cute frown on your face. 
If he didn’t have a sleepless night, he maybe wouldn’t have been so pissed but the sleepless night was your fault. 
Even through the angry haze, he can see how beautiful you look today – you always look beautiful but something about the way you look today makes his heart race even faster. Maybe it’s the new skirt or maybe it’s the way you did your makeup or the fact that you are wearing his ring – you always wear it but, somehow, it means even more to him that you are wearing it today, even after the kiss with him. 
Eddie never gets to answer your question. 
Your friends join the two of you and interrupt your little tense moment. 
“Let’s go, we’re gonna order some pizza.”
You tear your eyes away from his, sighing as you walk past him. 
“Yeah, can we order? I don’t feel like eating there.”
Robin and Chrissy nod. They pull you away from Eddie and Steve. 
Both men stay behind for a moment, Eddie looks at the ground, a mixture of guilt and anger still deep in his features. 
Steve wants to say something and he opens his mouth but decides against it. Anything that he will say, will only anger the metalhead even further and he doesn’t want to risk making things worse.
So he turns around and walks away. 
You are surprised to see Robin and Steve sharing a knowing look when you all get back into his car, they both take a look at Eddie, who is silent, unlike on the drive here. 
Chrissy leans closer to you, she cups her hand over her mouth, “did something happen between you and Eddie?” She whispers, giving you a look of concern and confusion. 
You shake your head at her and shrug. You are just as confused. 
Her eyes soften when she sees the worry and the hurt in your eyes, she gives you a sad smile and takes ahold of your hand, trying to comfort you. 
Your lips twitch, you squeeze her hand back before you turn away, looking out the window instead. 
The day started off good, the sun was shining and the breeze was warm but, just like your mood, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The clouds appeared like dark shadows over the pretty blue sky and the breeze turned into a harsh wind. It isn’t raining yet but you know it’s about to start falling any minute.
Somehow, the weather always matches your mood. 
“I thought we were getting pizza?”
You were so focused on watching the clouds move, you didn’t pay attention to where you were driving. 
Your eyes light up a little when you see the McDonald’s sign. 
“Y/n doesn’t want pizza,” Steve says as he pulls into the drive through, “she wanted burgers.”
For a moment, you forget about Eddie’s anger, the pain in your stomach or the guilt. Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you have been craving burgers and fries all day. 
“Oh! Fries too, please, Stevie!” 
You don’t hear Eddie’s scoff over Steve’s chuckle, “I know, dolly.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and clenches his fist.
“Does anyone want anything?” 
Eddie mumbles a ‘no’. 
Robin simply shakes her head and Chrissy leans closer to Robin to look out the window, reading the menu board. 
“Oh, can I have a strawberry milkshake?” Chrissy asks shyly, already reaching for the walled in her purse but you stop her, placing your hand over hers. 
“I got it, Chris.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Steve mumbles, looking over his shoulder, he glances at you both, “I’ll pay.”
She raises her brows, forcing a smile as she mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’. 
Robin is awfully quiet and you just notice it now when Chrissy leans back and you get to take a look at her. She keeps running her fingers through her hair, looking out the window with tense shoulders, just like Eddie. 
What the hell is going on?
Chrissy looks just as clueless as you though.
When Steve hands you the bag and the milkshake, a few minutes later, you almost squeal in excitement. Chrissy laughs at the look on your face and takes the milkshake from your hand. 
“Do you wanna share?” She asks, offering you the drink after taking the paper off the straw. 
“No thanks, I need the fries now.” You rip open the bag, the smell of greasy food makes your mouth water, “I’m so hungry,” you mumble as you reach for the fries. 
“Want some?” You ask Chrissy and Robin, “I’ll share, it’s too much for me anyways.” 
Robin shakes her head, “nah, I’ll wait for the pizza.”
Chrissy takes some, “you’re missing out, Robin.”
“Right?” You mumble through a mouthful, “you gotta dip them, Chris.”
“Not in a strawberry milkshake though!” She laughs, “it’s gotta be vanilla.”
Steve glances at you through the rearview mirror. His heart flutters when he sees the smile on your face. 
“Do you guys want some?” You ask, offering some to Steve and Eddie.
“It’s all yours, hangry,” Steve chuckles, using an old nickname. 
“I’m not hangry!” You slap his shoulder. 
“You want some Eddie?” You ask softly. 
He shakes his head, continuing to give you the cold shoulder. So he really is mad at you. Eddie never says no to fries, he steals some from your plate every time you go out to eat – or he finishes the ones that are left on your plate when you get too full to finish eating them yourself. 
You exhale and slump back in your seat, feeling sad all over again. 
You look down at the fries, suddenly, not feeling as hungry as you did before. Still, you continue snacking on the fries, choosing to save the burger for later. 
Chrissy looks at you worriedly when you frown and look down at your food, sadly, not as happy as you did a few moments back. She knows that you had been struggling in the past few months, you haven’t been eating as much and whenever you do, you quickly lose your appetite. Whether it’s the past memories that take away your appetite or something else – you have a problem. A problem that Eddie usually tries to help you with. 
She doesn’t know what happened but she can’t help but glare at the metalhead. 
But Robin is acting off too, so when you finally arrive back at your place and you all walk into your house. Chrissy takes Robin’s hand and pulls her away to the dining room to talk to her. 
“We’re gonna order the pizza!” Chrissy shouts as they disappear in the hallway. 
“Uh – okay.” 
Throwing your cardigan and your purse on the dresser, you walk into the living room. 
“Should I get some drinks?” Steve asks you, following you. 
“I can do it–”
“No, sit down, I’ll get some,” Steve mumbles, giving you a smile before he walks past you, disappearing in the kitchen. 
You reach for the remote to turn on some music on the TV, you always need the background noise, even in a room full of people. From the corner of your eye, you see him. You are surprised that he’s still here, you figured that he’d take his van and leave the moment Steve parked the car in your driveway. 
A part of you wants to say something but the other part doesn’t. You don’t want to give him the silent treatment back, you are just scared of his explanation. 
On the way home, you kept trying to figure out what made him so angry. 
Did he know about the kiss? Did Robin tell him? Is he upset about that?
Even if he knows, he can’t be upset about it – even when you think about what Nancy said to you, it still makes no sense. Why would he be upset? You aren’t together. You are not his girlfriend. 
Then again, it doesn’t explain your guilty feeling either. Just like you aren’t his, he isn’t yours. You have no reason to feel so guilty about kissing Steve – you can kiss whoever you want. 
Besides, you went on a date with Ray and even kissed him before he turned into a major douchebag – Eddie never got upset about the fact that you wanted to go on a date. So he can’t be upset about this either, right?
It has to be something else. 
Is he sick of you?
Did he finally realize that you aren’t worth his time?
Did he have a sudden change of heart just like Steve did when he went from loving boyfriend to awful boyfriend overnight?
Did your radio silence piss him off that much?
He is still standing by the doorway. 
You can’t help but roll your eyes at him and of course, it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You still don’t say anything though, too afraid to make things worse. 
The tugging in your chest gets even worse, if that is even possible. 
“What’s wrong, dolly?” 
All appetite is lost the moment you hear the mocking in his voice. You still blame your emotions on your period but deep down, you know that it’s not that. 
You feel the coil in your throat, the hollow feeling in your stomach and the sickness in your chest. You don’t know whether you want to throw up or break into tears. 
You can’t take this, not from him. 
His words weren’t even bad or offending in any way but to hear the tone in his voice, to receive the cold shoulder from someone who you wouldn’t hesitate to give your everything to, makes you feel like you’re taken back to Halloween – where it all fell apart.
“Did you have fun last night?” 
His question makes you frown. For the first time, you look at Eddie with a glare. 
“I did.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he scoffs and looks away. 
What the hell?
Chrissy and Robin walk into the room, both looking a little tense. 
“Uh, pizza is ordered,” Chrissy says awkwardly. 
She notices your heavy breathing and the way you are blinking quickly. The way you keep glancing at Eddie who refuses to look at you. 
Steve comes back into the room with a few cans of coke, he places them on the small table. Steve’s presence seems to anger Eddie even further and Chrissy is starting to get annoyed by the attitude that spawned out of nowhere. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks you. 
Eddie is not looking at you. He isn’t even glancing at you. He doesn’t care. Why doesn’t he care anymore? What happened? 
Your eyes burn. You can’t sit here any longer, you get up and walk away. 
“Hey, do you not want to eat your food?” Steve asks, pointing to the takeout on the table. 
“Not hungry,” you mumble. 
“But, you haven’t eaten all day!”
Suddenly, Eddie feels even worse than he did before. He let his anger control him, all fucking day. 
Steve sees your trembling lip and the tears in your eyes when you look back for a split second before you brush past Eddie and disappear into the hallway. 
Chrissy calls out for you, jumping up from the couch, she runs after you, bumping into Eddie on purpose with a death glare. 
He looks down with a sigh. 
Steve has had enough of his behavior. He shakes his head in disbelief before he walks over to him, startling Eddie by grabbing his shoulder roughly, pushing him forward. 
“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie snaps at him, trying to push Steve’s hands off of him but the latter has a strong grip on him and he pushes him towards the entrance, ripping the door open, he pushes him out. 
For a moment, Eddie thinks that he’s getting kicked out. 
Robin jumps up, looking panicked as she watches them both leaving the house. She follows behind, opening the door that Steve just slammed shut. 
“What the hell is your problem?” Eddie asks, pushing Steve’s hands off with force.
“What’s my problem?” Steve chuckles in disbelief, pointing to himself. 
Eddie scoffs and looks away. 
“Get your fucking jealousy in check before you keep hurting her!” Steve yells over the harsh rain that is falling. 
“She is not – I-I’m not..”
“Yes, you fucking are. You were fine before the movie, so I’m guessing you –” he points at Robin, who breaks eye contact right away and slumps, “told him something and I have a pretty fucking good idea of what it is!”
Eddie’s shoulders slump, he looks down, his eyes are burning. 
“It’s just–” Eddie’s words get cut short because what can he say? How can Eddie tell him he is mad because he can’t compare himself to Steve Harrington? How can he tell him that he isn’t just jealous but also hurting? How can Eddie say anything at all when he has no chance whatsoever? 
For a split second, Steve is able to see through Eddie, the look in his eyes gives it all away. 
“Eddie,” he sighs, hurting himself with what he is about to say. He could lie to him, he could leave it all like this, be your knight in shining armor and pick you up after today but he won’t use Eddie’s insecurities and your vulnerability to weasel his way back into your heart. 
Steve looks up, taking a deep breath. 
“She pushed me away when I kissed her and I think we all know why.” 
Eddie’s eyes widen. 
“Now get your ass up there and fix it,” Steve says angrily. 
A million questions run through Eddie’s mind but now is not the time to ask them. Steve won’t take no for an answer. He simply nods before he walks back into the house. 
Robin crosses her arms over her chest, she is impressed by Steve. She’s a little surprised, she expected a fight to break out, she didn’t expect this to be cut… so short.
“Good job, Dingus.” 
He rolls his eyes at her, “let’s get inside.”
Chrissy is standing in front of the bathroom door, leaning against it as she keeps trying to convince you to come out. 
“Please, y/n,” she sighs, softly. 
Eddie eyes the cheerleader warily, for someone with such a kind face, she sure gave him the kind of death glare that even intimidated him. 
He takes a deep breath. 
“Can I try?”
She turns around at the sound of his voice, snapping her head up with a frown. Her brows knit together, her mouth twists and she rolls her eyes but steps away from the door nonetheless. 
“Yeah,” she mumbles, “don’t mess it up, Munson.”
That is a threat. Yeah, with the look on her face, it definitely is a threat. 
He really messed up. 
He knocks on the door softly, closing his eyes as he tries to calm his breathing. 
“Sweetheart,” he speaks with a much gentler voice than before, “can we talk?”
Silence. 
“Please?”
He opens his eyes when the faint click of the lock sounds through the hallway. He grabs the doorknob and twists it, he opens the door and steps inside. You are sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wiping away the tears that keep rolling down your cheeks – because of him. 
But why? Why would you cry over him? 
You look up at him with glossy eyes and you rise to your feet. 
“D-Do you hate me Eddie?” 
His eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly.
Eddie doesn’t even hesitate, he immediately pulls you into a tight hug. His own heart breaks, not once in his life did he think he would hurt you but, here he was, causing you pain because of his own selfishness.
He can feel you clinging to him, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your tears are seeping through his shirt but he doesn’t mind. 
“No baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid,” he sighs, not even noticing the nickname that rolled off his tongue so naturally. 
“I don’t want to lose you, Eddie.”
The trembling in your voice and the sadness makes his heart hurt even more. 
Not once in his life was anyone ever scared to lose him, yet, here you are, the girl that he loves, scared to lose him. You could have anyone, you could have Steve but you are scared to lose him. 
Whether it’s platonically or not – you are scared to lose him and that has to mean something. 
“You won’t lose me, I promise, you won’t,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. “I’m so sorry – fuck,” he blinks his own tears away, hating himself for what he did. “I’m such an asshole.”
You only hug him tighter in response. 
“No, you’re not,” you mumble, “just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”
“I’m so–”
“Stop apologizing. Just hold me,” you mumble into his chest, “we can talk later.”
“Okay,” he whispers, hugging you even tighter. 
This is what you need. To be held and comforted by him. 
You lean your chin on his chest and look up at him, “will you stay with me tonight?” 
For some reason, your question has him stunned.
You have had sleepovers before, many sleepovers in fact. But, something feels different. He doesn’t know what it is but something has shifted. 
Something has shifted between the two of you after last night, he felt it earlier already and he feels it now as well.
His heart thumps wildly in his chest and he’s sure that you can feel it because he can feel yours.
“Yeah, I’ll stay with you.”
-
tagging mutuals
@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @succubusmunson @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked
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akindplace · 2 months
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The thing about romanticizing the tortured artist trope is that it takes very serious health conditions, physical, mental, and emotional ones, and it turns it into a very empty aesthetic made for consumption. It takes a life story, and it turns it into a punch line, an easy way out to explain a lifelong struggle while having no regard for the person who actually lived it.
It’s a way of simplifying something so complex as a whole life story, take away the good parts, the artist’s talent, and atribute years and year of studying and practicing their craft to an illness. As if it makes people feel better that maybe they aren’t geniuses but at least they aren’t “insane”.
Artists are constantly working to the bone to get people to see and understand their art, to change the current status quo, to perfect their craft. The most important thing is not how an artist died. It’s the life they lived, the work they’ve left behind, their mark on the world. Reducing people to a tragedy is not a way of appreciating their genius: their art is.
No one is a genius because of their illness, their trauma, their suffering, but because they studied and worked hard to develop the aptitude they were born with. Talent is not a miracle, it’s a lifelong effort.
This stereotype is extremely harmful to people who are currently struggling with those health problems, and it should not be used to “give pain a meaning”, because there is always so much more to someone’s life than suffering, and there is always so much more to your own life than romanticizing your own struggles and those of others.
Pain is meant to be worked through, not fed. And when you feed yourself the myth that an artist was brilliant because they were sick, you are erasing a big part of their life to try and make sense of yours. But you won’t find true meaning in life if you’re only feeding your sorrow instead of maybe, just maybe, doing what those artists did and work through it with your own art.
A lot of them did not have any access to healthcare because their conditions were unknown, but they did what they could to keep going. Their deaths don’t mean they gave up in a big tragic ending, and reducing them to that means you’re erasing everything they did to keep going, every fight, every effort they put into their own health and into their life’s work.
I love impressionist art ever since I was in elementary school, my favorite artist being Vincent Van Gogh. I was first introduced to his story as a man who had a mental illness and died a tragic death, while struggling financially and never being recognized properly during his lifetime.
But you see, Vincent Van Gogh had his brother Theo, who kept all the letters his older brother sent him, and sent his brother words of admiration, support, and unconditional love in his own.
He helped Vincent financially so he could pursue his paiting career. He saw the talent in his own brother even when others might’ve not. The period when Vincent was doing a little better with his health was actually when he was most prolific in his painting, which shuts down the idea that someone must be on the gutter and on the deepest pain and sickness to produce great art.
Most people in really poor health have a hard time managing daily life, and they probably won’t miraculously produce their best work yet while they in extreme suffering (I dare you to make the greatest work of art you’re capable of while you’re down with the flu, now imagine being in constant physical, mental and emotional distress and people think you can just make just about anything). Great art takes a lot of work. Genius and suffering don’t go hand in hand, and it reductive to explain away talent by an illness, as if any effort artists put into their craft was meaningless.
Theo named his own son after his brother, and after Vicent died, he still wanted to make his work known, and after his own death, his wife Johanna kept working on Theo’s mission besides her own political activism. She published the letters between the two brothers, and her own son helped in making Van Gogh’s work even more well known. Even though he was just a baby when his uncle died, he kept his memory alive by founding a world famous museum in his name.
Vincent Van Gogh was able to keep working because he was helped by his own family, financially, emocionally, and was given every encouragement so he could go on with his own career. He painted more when he got medical help, even though in his own time he would have had access to much simpler treatments, since the understanding of illnesses has largely changed in the last centuries.
Healthcare, support, compassion and understanding go a long way, and that’s why it’s important to keep pushing society to be more inclusive to people with illnesses - so they will get the help they need, so they won’t leave earlier than they should.
Vincent Van Gogh’s name is not well known just because of his own efforts, but also by the efforts of those who loved him and kept his name alive long after he was gone. He is not famous because he was a tortured artist. He is famous because those who loved him tried to help him in the ways they could, even after he was gone. His fame is not the result of his death, but of his life’s work and the work of those around him.
Love made him known. Support allowed him to keep working. Getting some help even at a time people did not understand his condition well enough meant he could paint more.
Van Gogh was only human, and he felt such a broad spectrum of emotions and lived through so many things, just as we all do. Behind those paintings, there is a person, a story, and so much hard work, and none of that can be reduced to the romanticized ideal of a tragic death of a tortured man.
It is not about his pain, his suffering, his death, you see. It’s about his life. And it’s about the life of those who loved him. He was able to do what he loved because he was loved, and that is the reason is remembered to this day.
I will end this long post with one of his most famous quotes:
“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”
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thefiery-phoenix · 2 months
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I have a request if that's OK can you do Yandere class 1a(romantic) (and Yandere eraser mic platonic ofc) x reader with powers like starfire or raven
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Sure and I'll go with the reader having powers like Starfire if that's okay with you and I sincerely apologize if this sucked
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You were a part of class 1A and over a period of time, they started growing obsessed and possessive of you so much that you weren't even allowed to hang out with students from the other classes. To say you had powers was an understatement, you were basically a walking weapon with your abilities of being able to fly, shooting laser beams from your eyes and hands, superhuman strength and agility. You aced the UA entrance exam like it was nothing and left everyone awed and speechless of your powers. You were soon sorted into class 1A after you received your acceptance letter and you became friends with your classmates, unaware of their darker masked desires and hidden intentions for you
You were book smart but when it came to figuring out the intentions your classmates had for you, you were quite naive indeed. The other day Monoma, TetsuTetsu and Kendou wanted to hang out with you and you agreed to hang out with them, when your classmates found out about your plans to hang out with some other class instead of them, they were annoyed and their jealousy bubbled inside him. They usually couldn't stand each other at times, each of them wanting to have you for themselves, however during times like this they were forced to work together. "HAH!? TF DO YOU MEAN HANGING OUT WITH THAT BLONDE RAT!? NO WAY!" yelled Bakugou as he muttered profanities and cursed under his breath while threatening to blast Monoma to the orbit. Uraraka, Momo and Mina had resorted to trying to guilt trip you by telling you that you barely ever hang out with them and you wanted to spend time with other people instead of them. Even the usually calm Deku and Kirishima had dark looks plastered across their faces, looking deep in thought while Iida was busy lecturing you as usual about how you shouldn't ignore your classmates when they wanted to spend time with you and besides, you also had homework to do and started listing out every possible reason why you couldn't hang out with the class 1B students
Eventually you ended up giving in and decided to have a movie night in the common room with your classmates since they just wouldn't stop with the incessant pestering. You don't know what it is they've done, but they've done something for sure since no one from class 1B decided to approach you the next day. Even Monoma kept his distance from you and scurried off in the opposite direction as your spotted a few scars on his face and hands which your dear classmates may or may not have caused. They won't allow anyone else to steal you away from them, you're theirs. From hanging out with Shoji and Koda and playing with Koda's pet bunnies to helping Sato bake his goodies and doing homework with Iida and Shoto to going shopping with the girls, you feel like your classmates are monopolizing your time way too much but you can't really do anything about it, how could you possibly prove that they're in the wrong for wanting to spend time with you?
Your teachers are of no help either whatsoever, Aizawa sensei and Present Mic think it's a GOOD thing your classmates are so protective and possessive of you. They're worried you might become reckless one day and your powers might end up hurting you which is the last thing they all want, so it's like a mutual silent agreement and understanding between them to keep an eye on you and protect you. Even if they have to get their hands dirty. Aizawa and Mic see you as one of their own kids to take care of and they take that role VERY seriously. The other day some random dude actually had the GUTS and audacity to try slipping in a love note into your locker while Aizawa was passing by and his eyes narrowed as he wrapped the guy in his scarves and gave him detention for the rest of the semester every day. If someone dares to make the mistake of bullying you, Mic would be the one to deal with that by using his quirk on them to make their eardrums literally BLEED till they apologize
Now, about your powers, it's a tricky situation. As much as they all love you for who you are and how capable you are to take care of yourself, they're also worried you might end up getting hurt one day because of them. No way in hell would Aizawa ever give you strenuous training tasks despite your whining and pleading, you could get hurt. They ALWAYS have eyes everywhere and they know your every move no matter what. Some of your classmates have literally resorted to stalking the living daylights out of you and you're still unaware of the secret cameras placed in your room, courtesy of Iida when you both had that study session a few days ago. Your every movement is now watched by all your classmates and your teachers as well. They don't even realize they're doing something wrong and they're lost so far in their delusion, they think they're just doing their jobs as good heroes in protecting you, their loved one and keeping you safe
Denki, Kirishima, Sero, Hagakure and Ojiro think your powers are cool but the rest of them are really worried for your safety. You always get lectured by Iida whenever you end up doing something risky and Deku would just be pleading with you to never do something like this again while Bakugou would lovingly insult you to knock some sense into your head. You are NOT to be fighting villains, they've all established that already and made that rule VERY clear. If there's a villain attack at some point, you'll be taken to safety because they do not want you engaging into such dangerous stuff. Look, you might have strong powers and you might be a good fighter but that still doesn't mean they'll let you fight villains and criminals, you'll always be seen as someone naive and sheltered in their eyes, someone they need to protect from the darkness of the world. But not to worry though, after the villains are dealt with (Or probably murdered), Aoyama will comfort you with cheese, Momo will make you some tea and Jirou will play some of her music for you as you'll spend the rest of your time surrounded by your classmates once again, your teachers pleased with the turn of events of the extreme lengths your classmates are willing to take to protect you. What sort of heroes would they be if they can't ensure their loved one's safety after all?
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boobamilktease · 7 months
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“Studying”
Aemond Targaryen Modern AU! x Reader
Warnings- Smut, filthy, oral, p in v sex, creampie, leg shaking, somebody lock me behind bars for this
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Aemond Targaryen was a man not easily swayed, especially not when he knew it was wrong. But, his eyes couldn’t help but greedily look at your exposed legs. He had invited you over for you weekly study sessions, but if anything he wasn’t focused on the calculus work in front of him. He was focused on the way your lips wrapped around the eraser part of your pencil, nibbling on it with concentration. God he imagined those sweet lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him so sweetly.
Gods, he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, he knew. You were his best friend, his sunshine in his darkness. Hell you met his dysfunctional family during the holidays, and they loved you. His mother Alicent was happy that her son had a good friend to rely on during college. If only she knew the way his cock hardens whenever he sees your tongue peak ever so slightly out between your lips.
You groan, feeling your brain is too numb to work on the calculus equation, effectively snapping him out of his embarrassing daydream. Fuck….he knew he was doomed if she saw his boner in his grey sweats. He saw you sigh and take off your sweater, leaving you in a small tee, and it took everything in him to not roll his eyes and fuck his hand like he’s a teen boy who just saw a pair of tits for the first time.
Aemond can feel a heat rise, sweat forming on the back of his neck, and he swallows hard. He bites his lip subtly, and stares at you with eyes clouded with lust. You stand up, stretching, causing your shirt to ride up exposing your stomach. His eyes burn the sight into his memory, happily. You yawn and walk over to the kitchen part of his dorm and grab a glass of water. Aemond asks for one too, his voice hoarse.
He watches you, eyeing you like a predator. His cock is so hard, it almost hurts. He watches as you set the glasses of water down and take a large gulp of water. He watches the way your throat moves and wants nothing more than to shove his cock in your mouth and facefuck you, but he refrains, biting down on his lip.
“I just don’t understand this problem Aemy. It’s too hard.” You say and Aemond nods, not listening to what you’re saying at all, only watching your lips. “I mean I thought since I was taking a degree in fucking education I wouldn’t have to do math!” You rant and Aemond just stares at you with lust in his dark eyes. “I’m so stressed and finals are coming up and this is supposed to be on the final and ugh this is the worst!” You say, groaning.
Aemond finally speaks up. “I know how you can de-stress.” You look at him confused, your head tilted ever so slightly to the side. “What do you mean Aemy?” You ask, to which he retorts. “I know of a way that you and I both can de-stress….would you be interested princess?” You can’t deny the way his pet name for you makes your thighs clench together slightly.
Aemond pushes his chair out from the table, giving you a good look at his clothes bulge. It massive…just how long has he been like that? You wonder. You bite your lip slightly and stare at his bulge, feeling yourself become aroused at the sight. A small blush coats the tops of your cheeks, causing Aemond to chuckle darkly.
“It’s your choice princess. We can have a good time or we can forget this ever happened and go back to studying.” Aemond says, placing a hand on his inner thigh, close to his bulge. Your thighs rub together as you think over the choices, before settling on one. Aemond was hot, you knew it and he knew it. You can’t remember the last time a guy looked at you with a fraction of affection and love.
You swallow slowly and nod, standing up from your chair and making your way to him. Aemond leans back in his chair and feels himself get harder, if he even could at that point. Once you’re in his vicinity, he grabs your u waist and places you on his lap, your clothed pussy right above his throbbing cock. He lets out a soft groan feeling your warm body on his.
Aemond’s hand caresses your cheek before gently grabbing your chin and placing a hot kiss on your lips. His lips move against yours feverishly, wanting to devour you whole. His hands roam, landing on the curve of your ass, fondling gently. You kiss him passionately, feeling his tongue meet yours in a fiery kiss. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling his pecs before making their way to his hair, gently tangling them in his silver locks.
He leaves hot open mouthed kisses trailing from your lips down your neck. Aemond leaves hickeys on your neck, claiming you as his. He pulls away to remove his shirt, revealing his toned body. He is built like a Greek god. His abs look so pretty in the soft dorm lighting. He goes back to kissing your neck, whispering against your skin, “fuck..you’re so fucking pretty Princess… do you feel how hard I am for you?”
You let out a soft moan as he grinds his cock against your pussy. You feel wet in your underwear, only making you more horny. His hands roam down your body and they go up your shirt, groping your tits gently. He groans and kisses your neck, sucking a pretty hickey on your neck. Aemond tugs at your shirt and says “fuck baby I need this off..”
You take off your shirt and throw it to the side somewhere in his dorm. He groans and his eyes roll in the back of his head, seeing your gorgeous tits. You unclasp your bra and fling it to where you put your shirt. When Aemond sees your bare tits he almost cums.
You were so pretty, and he wanted you to know it. He gently reaches up fondles your tits, rolling the buds around, making them perk up. You moan feeling his warm, wet mouth on your pebbled nipple, sucking. He kisses and suck’s your tit, while fondling the other, and then he switches to the other tit.
He moans, looking at your swollen and perk tits. His cock is screaming to be let out and he gently pushes you to your knees, kneeling in front of him. His pushes his pants and boxers down to his ankles, revealing his throbbing dick. He’s leaking precum, the tip red and super horny.
His cock was so pretty, long and with the right amount of girth to make you see stars. He was neatly shaven, and his balls were heavy. He gives himself a few pumps before gently grabbing your chin and bringing you closer to his throbbing dick. You swallow, salivating at the sight. You place a hand on his inner thigh and press a kiss on the top of his cock head. He flexes his stomach slightly, needy for your mouth.
You spit on his tip, watching the saliva run down his hard dick. You pump him with the new lubricant and watch as his head falls back and his mouth opens in a silent moan. You then put his tip in your mouth, kitty licking his tip. He groans and says “baby quit fucking teasing me” and you comply.
You slide his dick in your mouth, feeling his tip touch the back of your throat. You want to gag, but seeing him fall apart all from your mouth is enough for you to bare it. You hollow your cheeks and suck his pretty cock, reveling in his pretty moans and whimpers. His eyes are shut in pleasure and he moans your name. “Fuck baby…you feel so fucking good..keep sucking me like that…fuck!”
You start to play with his balls, massaging them in your hand. His moans increase and for a moment he forgets he’s in his college dorm. He places a hand on the back of your head, forcing you to deepthroat his cock. “Fuck princess…I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t stop!”
He moans, and he flexes his stomach, resisting the urge not to thrust his cock in and out of your mouth. With an audible pop, you remove your mouth from his cock and he groans at the loss. He looks at you with hooded eyes, completely covered with lust. He watches you remove your shorts and underwear, noticing a wet spot in them.
He grins looking at how horny you are. “Fuck princess…you’re soaking.” He says rubbing two thick fingers over your slick pussy. He gathers the slick and rubs it over his cock. You climb on his lap and he searches his drawers in order to find a condom. “I’m on the pill, and healthy.” You say and looks at you with a soft smile.
“You’re too good for me baby..c’mere.” He says and places a sweet kiss on your lips. You two kiss for a moment, grinding against each other. You moan as his cock head catches your clit a few times. “I should stretch you but you’re so fucking horny I don’t think you need it.” He says, slowly lining his cock to your entrance.
With a nod, he thrusts in gently, watching your face carefully for any sign of discomfort. He bottoms out, and rolls his eyes, wanting to thrust his cock in your pussy feverishly. He bites his tongue and waits for you to say that he can start. You say, feeling so full from his cock. “You can move Aemy…”
Aemond begins thrusting slowly and then picking pace hearing your moans. He fucks you like an animal in heat, you’re seeing stars from how good he’s fucking you. His balls are slapping against you with every thrust he makes, you moan and Aemond slaps your tits gently, loving the way they bounce when he fucks you full with his cock.
He’s so close to cuming but he won’t stop. He wants you to cum around his cock. He wants to feel your pussy tighten against him and cream all over his dick. He wants to fuck you full of his seed and watch you be pregnant with his kids. Fuck he’s so close, as he rubs your pearl just right, bringing you closer to the edge. “Aemy! Fuck I’m so close!!” You whimper and Aemond flips the position to where your face is in the pillow and your ass is in the air.
He fucks you from behind with such force, the headboard slams against the wall, but neither of you care. He make you feel so good, he makes you feel like your in heaven, even if your doing the unholiest of things. You feel so close to cuming, and he knows it by the way your pussy is clenching around his dick. He slaps your ass as he thrusts from behind, loving the way your ass jiggles as he thrusts.
Aemond groans and as you clench around him tight, screaming as you cum. Tears are rolling down your cheeks as he fucks you through your orgasm, trying to catch his. He follows soon after thrusting deep into your cervix and cumming. His body shakes and his mouth falls open in a silent scream. He pulls out and he has to resist the urge to get hard watching his seed leak from your swollen pussy. He smiles and checks up on you, before grabbing a warm washcloth we and cleaning you up. He then puts on a pair of clean boxers and sweats, just as the dorm door is knocked on. He makes sure you’re covered, and opens the door, leaning against the door frame.
“Cregan, how can I help you?” Aemond says looking at Cregan, blocking his view of you. Cregan smiles and invites Aemond to a frat party, to which Aemond declines and says that you’re over. “Oh, what are you two doing?” Cregan asks and Aemond says with a sly smirk. “Studying..”
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valkyriexo · 1 month
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You're Drunk | Changbin
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ᑉ³pairing; Changbin x Reader
ᑉ³genre; Sickfic , Comfort, angst with a happy ending
ᑉ³warnings; Alcohol, Arguments, sorrow
ᑉ³Authors Note; a little different that the other ones in this collection. Thank you for all the love :)
Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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"I can't believe you're seriously considering this," Changbin says, his voice tight with barely concealed frustration as he looks at the job offer in your hand.
You can feel his disapproval like a weight on your shoulders, but you can't ignore the excitement bubbling inside you.
"I know it's a big decision, Changbin, but this job could be the opportunity I've been waiting for," you reply, your voice full of hope.
"But what about us? What about our relationship?" Changbin counters, his tone pleading as he searches your eyes for reassurance.
You take a deep breath, the weight of the decision bearing down on you. "I don't want to give up on my dreams. Can't you see that?" you reply.
Changbin's face contorts with hurt and frustration, his voice wavering as he speaks. "Well, it sure seems like you don't care about me," he says, his tone laced with bitterness. "You're willing to throw away everything we have just for some job on the other side of the world."
Tears well up in your eyes as his words hit you like a punch to the gut. "That's not fair, Changbin," you protest, your voice cracking with emotion. "I care about you more than anything. But I also need to think about my future."
Changbin's brows furrow in frustration, his voice tinged with desperation. "But I can provide for you," he says, his tone pleading as he searches your eyes for reassurance. "You don't need to take this job. We can make things work here."
You feel a pang of guilt as you meet his gaze, knowing that his words come from a place of love and concern. "It's not about the money Binnie," you reply, your voice gentle but firm. " I appreciate it. I really do. But I need to work too. I want to have something for myself, I need to have something for myself."
Changbin's expression darkens, hurt flashing in his eyes. "So what, you're saying I'm not enough for you? That I can't provide for you?" he says, his voice rising with each word.
"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," you protest, the tears welling up in your eyes. "You provide so much for me, Changbin, but this is something I need to do for myself. Can't you understand that?"
Changbin's shoulders slump in defeat. "I understand," he replies quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I understand it clearly," he says, grabbing his things and beginning to leave.
"Binnie," you start, your voice trembling with emotion, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head.
"I need some time to think," he says, his voice distant as he turns away, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence that follows.
It was a memory, clear and defined, of a scene that had unfolded just a few days ago. Each detail remained vivid in your mind, as though etched there permanently, refusing to fade with time.
You were alone in the dimly lit apartment, and you found yourself transported back to that moment. The weight of the decision still heavy on your heart, the echoes of your voices reverberating in the quietude of the room. You could almost feel the tension in the air, the raw emotions palpable as if they were still swirling around you.
As you sat there, lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay the scene over and over again. Each time, the words exchanged between you and Changbin felt sharper, the emotions more intense, as if the memory itself was trying to etch its significance deeper into your consciousness.
With each sip of your drink, you tried to drown out the pain, to numb the ache that resonated within you. But no amount of alcohol could erase the memory, nor could it silence the inner turmoil that ate at your soul.
Days passed in a blur of anguish and solitude. Your apartment became a sanctuary for your sorrow, the only constant in a world that seemed to be crumbling around you. You retreated further into yourself, the outside world fading into insignificance as you grappled with your inner demons.
You hardly had the energy to tend to your basic needs. Your phone lay forgotten and uncharged, its silent screen a stark reminder of the darkness in your life. Meals became an afterthought, mere distractions from the relentless ache in your heart.
Most of your days were spent in tears, the weight of your emotions too heavy to bear alone.
You found yourself curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting long shadows across the room. Every corner of your mind is consumed by thoughts of Changbin, his hurt expression haunting your every thought. You replay the argument over and over in your mind, dissecting every word, every nuance, searching for a way to make things right. But no matter how hard you try, the same conclusion stares back at you, cold and unforgiving: 
You and Changbin were drifting further and further apart.
Tears stream down your cheeks as you consider all your options, weighing the pros and cons with painstaking detail. But no matter how hard you try, you can't shake the sinking feeling that no matter what path you choose, it will lead to heartbreak.
With a heavy heart, you bury your face in your hands, the weight of your decision crushing you from all sides. The thought of losing Changbin, of being without him, is almost too much to bear.
As you continue to drink, the tears continue to flow, mixing with the bitter taste of alcohol on your lips. Each sip brings a temporary reprieve from the pain, but as the alcohol dulls your senses, the weight of your sorrow only seems to grow heavier.
Your vision blurs as the room spins around you, the sounds of your own sobs echoing in your ears. You try to steady yourself, to cling to some semblance of control, but the weight of your emotions is too much to bear.
With a heavy heart and weary limbs, you sink further into the cushions, the warmth of the alcohol washing over you like a heavy blanket. Your eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you in a rush.
As the tears continue to fall, you find yourself drifting, slipping further and further into the comforting embrace of sleep. The weight of your sorrow lifts, if only for a moment, as unconsciousness claims you, pulling you into a dreamless slumber.
In the quiet of the room, the only sound is the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts just moments before. 
But in the midst of your slumber, a persistent sound breaks through the silence, pulling you reluctantly back to reality. At first, it's just a faint noise, a distant echo in the depths of your dreams. But as it grows louder, more insistent, you're jolted awake by the realization that someone is knocking at your door.
Your head throbs with the remnants of your earlier drinking, the room spinning as you struggle to sit up. With a groan, you push yourself off the couch, stumbling towards the door with unsteady steps.
Outside, Changbin's voice cuts through the fog of your mind, his words urgent and frantic as he calls out your name. "Hey, are you in there? Open up, Y/N," he says, his voice tinged with worry.
You fumble with the lock, your hands shaking as you struggle to grasp the key. With a click, the door swings open, revealing Changbin's anxious face staring back at you.
He rushes forward, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "Thank God you're okay. I've been calling and knocking for days," he says, his voice trembling with relief. "What happened? You haven't answered my calls or texts"
But beneath the relief in his voice lies a simmering undercurrent of frustration and concern. "Where have you been, Y/N?" he asks, his tone tinged with reproach. "I've been worried sick. I didn't know if you were hurt, or... or worse."
You flinch away, a surge of anger coursing through your veins. His sudden appearance only serves to reignite the flames of frustration and hurt that had been smoldering within you.
You take a step back, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you glare at him. "Oh, how thoughtful of you to grace me with your presence again," you say, your tone laced with bitterness. "Are you here to torture me some more, or have you finally come to your senses?"
Changbin recoils slightly, his eyes widening in surprise at the venom in your words. "No, Y/N that's not why I'm here," he protests, his voice tinged with desperation. "I came back to apologize, to make things right."
You scoff, the sound bitter on your lips. "Apologize? Is that supposed to make everything better?" You retort, your anger bubbling to the surface. "You left me alone, Changbin. You walked out without a second thought."
"Y/N, I... I'm sorry," he begins, his words cautious, as if walking on eggshells. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."
You scoff, your anger refusing to abate, fuelled by the raw hurt festering deep within you. "I don't want your apology, Changbin," you snap, with bitterness in your tone. "You don't get to waltz back in here and expect everything to be okay. You hurt me."
Changbin's expression crumples with remorse, his desperation evident in every line of his face. "Y/N, please," he pleads, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, but I want to make it right. Please give me a chance to make things right between us."
"Why? Why should I?" you counter, your voice tinged with bitterness and hurt.
Changbin's eyes plead with you, his anguish laid bare for you to see. "Because I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you."
You scoff at his words, the pain in your heart too raw to be assuaged by mere declarations of love. "Oh? Is that supposed to erase everything?" you retort, your voice laced with disbelief. "You let your fears and insecurities drive you away, Changbin. You left me when I needed you the most."
Changbin's shoulders slump with the weight of your accusations, his gaze dropping to the floor in shame. "I know," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm sorry. I let my own demons cloud my judgment, and I hurt you in the process. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, Y/N, give me a chance to prove it to you."
His words hang heavy in the air, a fragile plea for forgiveness amidst the wreckage of your relationship.
"I know I can't take back what I said, or the way I left," Changbin admits, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. "But I want you to know that I never meant to make you feel like your dreams didn't matter. They do, Y/N , and I was wrong to make you feel otherwise."
Tears well up in your eyes at his apology, the sincerity in his voice piercing through the wall of hurt and anger that surrounds you. Despite your efforts to remain stoic, your face betrays the conflict within you, the emotions waging a silent battle beneath the surface.
"I understand if you need time," he continues. "But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I promise to do better, to be there for you, to support you in pursuing your dreams, no matter where they may lead."
Your vision blurs as tears stream down your cheeks, mingling with the remnants of anger and hurt that still linger within you.
"I... I want to forgive you, Changbin," you manage to choke out between sobs, your voice wavering with emotion. "But it's just so hard..."
Your words trail off as you stumble slightly, your balance compromised by the lingering effects of the alcohol from the night before. Changbin's eyes widen in concern as he reaches out to steady you, his touch gentle against your trembling form.
"Are you okay, Y/N ?" he asks, his voice filled with worry as he takes in your disheveled appearance and the telltale signs of a hangover.
You shake your head, the room spinning around you as you struggle to remain upright. "I'm fine," you say, your words slurred with the remnants of sleep and alcohol. "Just... a little dizzy, that's all..."
You feel his arms around you, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill of the night air. Despite your anger, a part of you can't help but lean into his embrace, seeking comfort in his familiar presence.
Changbin's grip tightens around you, his concern palpable. "You're not fine, Y/N," he says, his voice soft but firm. "You're drunk, and you need help."
"I'm fine," you mumble, your words slurring together as you try to steady yourself against him.
But he isn't convinced, his brows furrowing with concern as he studies you intently. And then, realization dawns on his face as he pieces it all together.
"Did you... did you drink because of me?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of guilt and sorrow.
You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the weight of shame and regret settling heavily on your shoulders. "I... I don't know," you admit, your voice barely audible as you struggle to find the right words. "Maybe... maybe I did..."
Changbin's expression softens, his eyes filled with compassion as he wraps you in a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I never meant to drive you to this. I never meant to hurt you like this."
His words cut through the haze in your mind, and for a moment, you feel a flash of resentment. But as you struggle to keep your balance, you realize he's right.
You're not fine, not even close.
Changbin gently lifts you into his arms, cradling you like precious cargo as he carries you to the couch. With careful movements, he sets you down, ensuring you're comfortable before he disappears into the kitchen.
You watch him go, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Despite the lingering tension, you can't help but appreciate Changbin's efforts to take care of you.
Minutes pass, and Changbin returns with a glass of water and a plate of sliced fruits. He places them on the coffee table before sitting beside you, his gaze filled with concern.
"Here, drink this," he says, handing you the glass of water. "It'll help with the dehydration."
You take a sip, grateful for the coolness of the water as it soothes your parched throat. Changbin watches you closely, his brow furrowed with worry. With a soft sigh, he reaches for the plate of sliced fruits, carefully selecting a piece and holding it out to you.
You hesitate for a moment, but the earnestness in Changbin's eyes urges you to comply. You take the fruit from him, feeling the sweetness of it on your tongue as you chew slowly, savoring each bite.
Changbin watches you intently, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes your reluctant compliance. He looks relieved, as if seeing you eat brings him a sense of comfort and reassurance.
Once you've finished the fruit, Changbin disappears into the kitchen once more, returning with a small packet of liquid IV and a fresh glass of water.
"Bottoms up." He says handing it to you.
"I don't need you to baby me," you snap, the words sharper than you intended.
Changbin recoils slightly, his expression a mix of hurt and concern. "I-I'm sorry," he stammers. "I just... I just want to make sure you're okay."
You sigh, the weight of your words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know," you say softly, your tone gentler this time. "And I appreciate it, I really do. But I'm not helpless, Changbin. I can take care of myself."
Changbin's gaze softens, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I know you can, Y/N," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "But that doesn't mean I can't take care of you too. I love you, and seeing you like this... it hurts me too." With gentle care, he offers you another piece of fruit.
You sigh softly, and without a word, you reach out and take the fruit from him.
As you finish the last of the fruit, you notice a shift in your body. The warmth from the alcohol is slowly dissipating, leaving you feeling cold and shivery. Changbin notices your discomfort immediately, his brows furrowing with concern.
"Are you feeling cold?" he asks softly, his voice filled with worry.
You nod weakly, the tremors becoming more pronounced as the alcohol wears off. Changbin springs into action, disappearing into the bedroom to retrieve some blankets. He returns moments later, a stack of soft blankets in his arms.
"Here, let me help you get warm," he says gently, draping the blankets over you with careful hands.
As he tucks the blankets around you, you feel a sudden urge to be closer to him. His warmth is inviting, comforting, and you find yourself reaching out to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you.
"Binnie," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "can you stay with me?"
Changbin's eyes soften at your request, a tender smile gracing his lips. Without hesitation, he settles beside you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.
"Of course, Y/N," he replies, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'll stay with you as long as you need me."
"I'm sorry, Changbin," you whisper, your voice laced with remorse. "I didn't mean to push you away. I know you're just trying to help."
Changbin's smile softens, his gaze filled with understanding. "I know, Y/N," he says, his voice gentle. "And I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to make you feel helpless. I just want to take care of you because I love you."
You lean into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. In that moment, you realize how much you truly love him, how much he means to you.
As you snuggle closer to Changbin, resting your head against his chest, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, a reminder of his presence and the love that surrounds you.
But as you listen to the gentle thud of his heart, you feel it begin to quicken, a subtle shift in tempo that doesn't go unnoticed. Changbin's arms around you tighten slightly, as if he's trying to hold you closer, to shield you from the storm of emotions brewing within him.
"Y/N," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry for everything. I was wrong to argue with you about the job. You should take it. It's an incredible opportunity, and I shouldn't have stood in your way."
You lift your head from his chest, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. "Changbin, it's okay," you say gently, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "I understand why you were worried, but you were just looking out for me."
Changbin's expression softens at your words, but there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I know, but I shouldn't have been so selfish," he admits, his voice tinged with regret. "You deserve to chase your dreams, Y/N, even if it means being apart from me."
"Y/N," he murmurs, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "I want what's best for you. And if this job is truly the opportunity you've been waiting for, then you should take it."
You lift your head from his chest, meeting his gaze with a furrowed brow. "But what about us, Bin?" you ask softly, your voice filled with apprehension. "What about our relationship?"
Changbin's expression softens, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "I want to be with you, Y/N," he says earnestly, his voice filled with conviction. "But I also want you to pursue your dreams. You shouldn't have to choose between us."
You feel a pang of guilt at his words, the weight of his sacrifice settling heavily on your shoulders. "I don't want to lose you, Binnie," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Changbin's fingers trace gentle circles on your back, his touch a soothing balm to your conflicted soul. "You won't lose me, Y/N," he assures you.
For a moment, there's silence between you, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a promise. And then, without warning, Changbin pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go.
"I love you, Y/N," he murmurs against your hair, his voice filled with love and gratitude. "I love you more than anything in this world."
And as you melt into his embrace, surrounded by the warmth of his love, you realize that this is where you belong - in Changbin's arms, with his heart beating in time with yours.
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ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 
248 notes · View notes
sluttywonwoo · 9 months
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instead of you [part twenty-six] || l.mh
pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 
warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni)
word count: 5.1k
a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!
series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi
additional smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms
The silence that followed your admission was excruciating. You wished you knew what Minho was thinking. He was impossible to read, aside from the evident anger written all over his face. His body language didn’t give much away either. He was closed off, arms folded across his chest, chin raised just slightly. 
“So who are you then?” he demanded, tone even despite being the exact opposite mere moments ago. 
“What?”
“Who are you? Are you just some girl that Jisung is using?”
“What the fuck, no!”
“Why are you acting like that’s some outrageous possibility? I just found out you’ve been lying to everyone all summer!”
“I’ve been Jisung’s best friend for like four years now, I’m all over his Instagram! Felix came to visit us and we all hung out, there are pictures of that too. I can’t believe you’d think I’m some random person!”
“You’ll have to forgive me for not thinking completely rationally right now!” he spat. “Why the hell would Jisung lie about- why would he say he had a girlfriend if he didn’t?”
“It’s a long story,” you mumbled with a sigh. “But we really don’t have time to get into that right now. I came up here because I was supposed to bring you back to the room.”
Minho made a face. “What, why?”
“Your cousins called.”
The shift in his demeanor was immediate. He visibly perked up, but only briefly, before seeming to remember the conversation he was having. “Jeongin and Yoon?”
“Yeah. Everyone else is on FaceTime with them right now. I told everyone I’d come to get you so that none of them would have to miss out on talking to him,” you explained. “So we should probably get going because I don’t know how long he has to chat.”
“Fine,” Minho surrendered easily, “but we’re not done talking about this.”
“Yeah, yeah I know,” you sighed again, still feeling nauseous. With everything that had already happened, you knew there was no way that this could end well. But now, now that one person knew it was all a lie, you were fucked. “Just… don’t tell anyone, please?”
He pursed his lips but nodded. “You sure have a lot of secrets to keep track of, don’t you?”
It was meant to sting, and it did, but you didn’t let him see the crack in the glass. 
“I could say the same for you.”
-
You slipped into your room as soon as you got back to the penthouse, not wanting to face any of the other Hans, especially not your best friend. You collapsed onto the bed with a muffled scream into your pillow. 
You expected yourself to start crying, but the tears didn’t come. They wouldn’t come. The initial panic had been replaced with numbness. Apathy personified, you could feel it spreading from your heart out through your veins, creating a tingling sensation that reached the very tips of your fingers. 
You had to tell Jisung, right? He’d understand… probably. You hadn’t told Minho. He figured it out on his own. Yeah, you should tell Jisung and then you could also come clean about… everything else. Maybe. But maybe you could also take it to your grave since it seemed like any possibility of you and Minho becoming an item, whatever that implied, was out of the question now. You knew he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Not after tonight. You couldn’t erase his look of betrayal from your mind no matter how hard you tried. 
Just how many people were you hurting by merely being on this trip? There was no way to know for sure, not that knowing would make you feel any less guilty. 
Maybe it was better not to tell Jisung. Maybe you could pretend like everything was fine, and then it would be. But that was what had gotten you in trouble in the first place. 
You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a jolt some hours later. The room was dark. The lamp had been switched off and the blinds were shut. Jisung was snoring softly beside you. He was tucked under the covers while you were still laying on top of them. 
You rolled over and felt for your phone, finding it underneath your pillow. You were surprised to see that you had missed a text from Minho. It was from an hour and a half ago and just said can you meet me in room 422? 
You weren’t sure if he would still be waiting there since it had been so long since he sent the message, but you responded with a tentative sure and quietly snuck out of your bedroom. You hoped Jisung wouldn’t wake up before you returned. Having to explain where you were or why you were there would only complicate things. You still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell him… anything. You needed more time to think things through. At least, that’s the excuse you told yourself. 
The fourth floor was eerily quiet, reminding you of how late it was. Stepping off the elevator into the hallway felt like a mistake, like you were trespassing on private property. Minho hadn’t replied to your text so you didn’t know if he was still awake, but you knocked at the door anyway. He answered after the second knock. 
“There you are,” he said and stepped aside to let you in. He seemed to have cooled down, which was a good sign, but there was still tension lingering between you. 
You slid by him, stopping in the entryway just past the door. The room he had summoned you to was just a plain hotel room. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the room and a desk in the corner, but not much else. 
“You can sit wherever.”
You nodded in acknowledgment and perched yourself on the edge of the bed. Minho followed you but refrained from sitting, choosing to lean back against the dresser so that he could face you. 
“Why’d you want to meet me here?” you asked.
“I, uh, thought that talking in my room back at the apartment would look kind of weird if anyone saw us,” he explained awkwardly, “and the walls are thin too.”
“Alright, you have a point,” you admitted with a shaky exhale. “Whose room is this?”
“It’s mine. I went down to the lobby and booked it for the night.”
Oh to have a K-pop-sized disposable income.
“Oh, right. Should have thought of that.” You swallowed thickly, trying still to appear calm, cool, and collected. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”
You realized that Minho hadn’t mentioned wanting to talk in his text. You were just assuming. But given the events of the night, you felt that it was a pretty safe assumption to make. 
“I wanted to know why you and Jisung lied to everyone,” he took a brief pause before continuing, “and why I now have to lie to everyone too.”
You bit your tongue, stopping yourself before you could point out that he was already lying to everyone, and just nodded. 
“So the thing is, when he told your parents he had a girlfriend, he did have a girlfriend. They broke up, like, less than a week after he told them that and I guess he was too embarrassed to break the news because they were so excited for him and had already invited her on the trip. Jisung figured that maybe he’d have another girlfriend by the time he actually had to go on the trip, but when the end of the semester rolled around and he didn’t, I kind of filled the vacancy because he asked me to.”
“But why?” Minho pressed. “Why was it so important for him to be dating someone?”
“I don’t know, actually. He told me that it was to make your parents happy because they were always bugging him about his dating life, but I thought there might have been another reason that he just wasn’t telling me.”
Minho hummed thoughtfully. “Mom and dad are pretty nosy about our lives, but I don’t know why he would feel pressured to be in a relationship.”
“I think he felt like he had something to prove,” you said, choosing your words carefully. You knew how rocky Jisung’s relationship with his older brother was, at least from what he told you. You didn’t want to give Minho anything he could hold against him. “You’re not going to say anything to your parents or Felix, are you?”
“No,” he answered immediately and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “That’s his prerogative, I suppose. I don’t want to start anything between us- it’s not my place to say anything, really.”
“Thank you.”
He let his arms drop to his sides but didn’t move from where he was standing. “So, there’s really nothing going on between you and Jisung?”
“No, I swear.”
“Even after spending all this time together on the trip?”
“Nope, we spend all of our time together anyway.”
“So are you… friends with benefits?” he asked. 
“No. We’ve made out a few times, but it really just happens when we’re drunk. We never slept together.”
“But what about…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was talking about instantly.
“Oh, no! That was all fake. We just did that to sell it more, and sometimes to mess with you guys.”
“I knew there was no way he could be that good,” Minho whispered.  
You chuckled but came to your friend’s defense. “He seems to do pretty well for himself. Girls usually call him back after staying over so he must be doing something right.”
“I can’t believe it was fake,” Minho mumbled, mostly to himself. “Sorry, I’m still processing this.”
“Take your time.”
You leaned back on the palms of your hands, feeling a little more relaxed now that you knew he didn’t hate you. 
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked finally, letting the mask fall the tiniest bit. “After I kissed you the first time? Or when you kissed me back? This whole time I’ve felt like such an asshole for- for everything that happened.”
“I thought about it,” you admitted, “but Jisung and I agreed that it would stay between us. I’m sorry.”
“I get why you didn’t. I just wish it could have been different.” 
“Me too,” you agreed.
Minho crossed over to the bed and sat down next to you. 
“I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”
You threw your head back laughing. You hadn’t expected him to say that. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s a relief not to have to keep up the act around you anymore.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Minho raised an eyebrow and grinned, making you shy away from his gaze. 
You looked down at your lap. 
“Because it was exhausting! I don’t know how to act.” It was a half-truth, and you suspected that he knew it. 
“You had me fooled.”
You managed to look back up at him only to find him staring at your lips. This was not how you imagined this conversation going at all. 
“Maybe I should change career paths then,” you choked out. 
“Yeah, maybe.”
A few more beats of silence lapsed between you before Minho spoke again. 
“All of this time we could have been doing this,” he murmured gently. 
You scrunched your face up in confusion. “What’s ‘doing this’?”
 He leaned forward and bridged the gap between you by pressing his lips to yours to answer your question. His hand came up to your hair instinctively, muscle memory, and brushed it out of your face before cupping your jaw. You melted into him like you had done too many times before, letting him trace the curves of your face with his thumb like he was trying to memorize it. 
His palm was warm and you could feel the calluses on his hand against your cheek. You were the first to moan, any embarrassment long forgotten as you climbed onto his lap. 
Minho accommodated your weight easily, hands immediately coming down to grab your ass. He allowed you to push him down so that he was lying flat on the bed with you straddling his waist. 
Minho slipped his tongue into your mouth as the kiss intensified, teasing you with it. You whimpered when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. Minho just smirked and used the opportunity to flip you over so that he was on top. 
Then his lips were back on you, brushing against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. As soon as you felt his teeth graze your skin you pushed his head back and gave him a look. It was his turn to pout. 
“You can’t leave marks, idiot.”
“Oh yeah, sorry,” he said apologetically, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know that he didn’t mean it whatsoever. “Well, you can mark me up as much as you want.”
You rolled your eyes. “Lucky me.”
Minho ignored your comment and raised himself onto his hands, still hovering over you. He looked pretty, even in the dim, yellowy hotel room light. His lips were already a bit puffy, but he hadn’t even been kissing you for that long. You briefly wondered how they’d look after making out with your cunt, all swollen and glossy. You tried to squeeze your thighs together at the thought, legs closing around Minho’s hips instead. He seemed pleased at your eagerness and rewarded you with another kiss. 
“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked when he came up for air. You nodded. “Here, lift up a little.”
You did as he asked so that he could work the t-shirt over your head, laughing when he tossed it on the floor. 
“You weren’t wearing a bra?”
“I was about to go to sleep!”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “Likely story.”
“No, you’re right. I came here in my pajamas fully intending to seduce you.”
“Well, it worked.”
“Of course it did. Men are so easy.”
He shook his head, tongue poking his cheek. “You’re going to regret saying that.”
You cocked your head to the side, fully aware that Minho had the physical upper hand. “We’ll see.”
As soon as the words left your mouth Minho’s hands were on your boobs, effectively shutting you up. He circled a thumb around each of your nipples, smirking when you gasped and arched your back. 
“Barely even touching you and look how eager you are for me,” he mused. 
“T-take your shirt off too.” It was meant to be a command, but it sounded more like a plea. 
“What’s the magic word?”
“Fuck you.”
“Fine, since you asked so nicely.”
Minho reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt off, throwing it in the same general direction as he had thrown yours. You had seen Minho shirtless plenty of times before and you still couldn’t help but stare. His body looked like one of those statues you had seen in the Louvre, carved out of marble by one of the artists they named the Ninja Turtles after. 
You reached out to touch his chest, running your fingertips along his pale skin. 
“Can I take these off too?” Minho asked, playing with the hem of your sweats. He snapped the elastic band against your hip, making you flinch. 
“Yes, please get them off of me, it’s hot,” you whined.
You were left in just your underwear beneath him. You were usually pretty confident with sexual partners, but with Minho you felt exposed, vulnerable. You felt the urge to cover yourself, even though he was looking at you like you were a star amongst the cosmos. 
He repositioned himself lower in between your legs and before you could ask what he was doing, he pressed his tongue against your clothed cunt, licking a fat stripe between your folds.
You cried out in surprise, hips bucking into his face as a string of curses left your mouth. 
Minho raised his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been imagining what you taste like for weeks. I just had to know.”
“It felt good,” you assured him, silently begging him to continue. “Was it what you hoped it would be?”
“Better. Can I please keep going?”
“God, yes.”
He placed a hand on either one of your thighs to hold you down as he buried his head in between your legs again. He teased you with his tongue over your panties, finding your clit in an impressively short amount of time. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head against you. He groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening as you pulled his hair.
“Please, need more,” you whined. 
And Minho was all too willing to give you exactly that. Instead of taking the time to take your panties off, he just pulled them to the side so that he could have complete access to your pussy. He went back to work and you both moaned. His tongue was wet and warm and felt perfect on your clit. You frowned when he started moving lower, confused as to what he was doing until you felt his tongue working you open. No one had ever tongue-fucked you before and you thought you might cum from that alone. 
Minho paused again to catch his breath. “Fuck, I knew you were wet, but I didn’t expect you to be this wet,” he rasped out. 
“Sorry,” you hissed, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
“Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?”
“N-no one.”
“Good, because it’s hot.”
You scoffed. 
“Lay back down,” Minho said, nodding at you to punctuate his point. 
You rolled your eyes at him but did as he said anyway. “You’re so bossy.”
“Do you want me to keep going or not?”
“Fine, fine. Sorry.”
“I fucking knew you were a brat,” he sneered. 
“What gave it away?” you asked sweetly. 
“Take a wild guess.”
You propped yourself up on your elbows again despite just being told to lie down. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Instead of answering, Minho hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, making you lose your balance and yelp in surprise. You watched his shoulder muscles flex as he used his strength to push your hips down, preventing you from squirming. The sight was enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together, but of course, Minho was stopping you from doing just that. 
He pulled your panties off completely this time, apparently frustrated with the obstacle in his way. They joined the heap of clothes on the ground. You didn’t even need to look at them to know that they were ruined. 
His mouth was back on you before you could get another word in, causing any snarky remark you’d been about to make dissolve into a moan. It was a little sloppy at first. He had yet to fully regain his bearings, but dove in headfirst anyway. Kisses against the crux of your thigh, nips at your hip bones. Teasing and experimental. 
His touch didn’t have the practiced familiarity of a lover. Each movement was eager, exploratory. He was learning your body like he had all the time in the world, but you were growing impatient. 
Your hands flew to his hair again as he finally laved his tongue over your clit. You suppressed your moans this time, remembering what he had said about the neighbors. 
“Fuck, keep going,” you hissed, encouraging him to continue. “Please keep going.”
You could feel Minho smirking against your pussy, but you didn’t care. He could be as cocky as he wanted if he was going to make you feel this good. 
It didn’t take much to get you to the edge. It had been a while since you’d gotten laid, and you had been wanting Minho for God knows how long… you would usually be embarrassed, not want to give a man a bigger ego than he already had, but you had a feeling Minho was trying to get you to cum before fucking you and you wanted him inside of you as quickly as possible. If anything, you were doing him a favor. 
“C-close, Min. ‘M really close!”
You could barely make out the muffled “already?” that came from him between your legs, but you still rolled your eyes anyway, half-tempted to push his head away. 
He guided two of his fingers inside of you, giving you something to clench around as you came. The intention behind the action is what did it. He clearly cared about your pleasure which was rare to find in a partner, especially when said partner was a man. 
You came almost instantly, catching Minho off-guard as if “I’m close” hadn’t been warning enough. He must have taken it as an advanced notice rather than an immediate head’s up. He grunted in surprise as you bucked your hips up into his face, but recovered quickly, helping you ride out the orgasm until you relaxed back on the bed. 
He lifted his head finally, grinning like he’d just won the lottery, and sucked your arousal off of his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand shortly afterward.
“Good?” he asked. 
“Really good,” you managed to choke out. 
“You okay?”
“Yeah, take your pants off.”
Minho chuckled. “Should’ve known you’d only want me for my body.”
You pursed your lips but didn’t bother responding. You both knew that wasn’t true. Otherwise, why would you be risking everything just to fuck him? 
Minho pushed himself off of the bed and shimmied out of his pants. As good as he looked in the gray sweats, you knew he would look even better with them off. And you were right. Even though he was still wearing his briefs, you could see the outline of his dick much more prominently. It made your mouth water and you sat up and shifted onto your knees to return the favor he had just given you. 
Minho saw you reaching out for him but shook his head. 
“I need to feel you,” he said, voice strained. “If that’s okay. I already almost came in my pants just from eating you out, I won’t last.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Not many men would admit to that.”
“Not many men would admit to getting off on making their partner feel good? You’re right.” 
You watched as he picked his pants up off the floor and pulled a condom out of one of the pockets. 
“Oh now you have a condom?” you teased.
“Look, I usually have them on me, I just didn’t that night,” he exclaimed in defense, the thin foil packet between his teeth. He ripped it open and pulled the rubber out, only pausing when you spoke again. 
“You don’t keep them in your wallet, do you?”
“I do, but I change them out pretty often. Is that okay?” 
“That’s fine.”
With that settled, he slipped out of his underwear and rolled the condom on with ease. He joined you on the bed a moment later. You laid back and waited for Minho to position himself. 
“Wait-” you whispered suddenly, having been so in the moment that you had almost forgotten. “Are you clean?”
Minho let out a sigh of relief, probably having thought something was wrong. “Yeah, I got tested like two months ago.” 
“But the other night with that girl-”
“I didn’t sleep with her.”
“Oh. Why?”
“I mean, I fully intended to, if I’m being honest. But I just… couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t get it up?” 
“Something like that,” he sighed. “I probably should’ve asked this before going down on you, but you’re clean too, right?”
You nodded. “I get tested all the time and I haven’t had sex in a while.”
“That makes two of us.” 
You looked at him expectantly. “You may… continue.”
“I’m surprised that didn’t immediately make my dick soft.”
“Oh, give me a break. My brain is still fuzzy from cumming.”
He snorted. “You’re welcome.”
“I can’t believe that didn’t immediately make me dry up.”
“I’m allowed to be cocky!” he protested. “I made you cum in, what, a minute flat?”
“It took longer than a minute!”
“I don’t know about that. I think we should check the replay.”
“You’re such a dork.”
Minho rolled his eyes. “And that must really turn you on. ‘Cause last time I checked you were dripping onto the sheets.”
“I-” you had nothing. You squeezed your thighs around Minho’s waist, trying to coax him inside of you. “Just stick it in already!”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he repeated.
You held onto his arms as he pushed himself in, sighing in relief at the fullness. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he was still sizable. You had to take a second to adjust to the stretch before he could start to move. He fit perfectly, at least that’s what it felt like. You were positive he could tell how much you liked his cock from the way you unconsciously clenched around him, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. If his ego inflated to the size of the moon after this, fuck it.
“Fuck, st-stop doing that,” Minho stuttered, pressing one of his hands against your hip to try and keep you still. 
“I’m not doing anything!”
“You’re, God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he hissed. “If you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum.”
“Oh sorry, I didn’t even realize.”
You took a deep breath and willed your body to relax. It had been so long since you’d been properly fucked and you didn’t want it to be over before it even started. 
“Are you good to keep going?” Minho asked once he’d regained some semblance of composure. 
“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, fuck please move.”
He leaned down to kiss you as he began to rock his hips into yours and you met him halfway. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and nipped at your bottom lip when you pulled away. 
“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he confessed, voice raspy. 
Baby was new. And it made you whimper in response. 
“So goddamn tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”
Did he say this to every girl he fucked? Because it sounded like a line, but it was working like a charm on you. 
As if he realized he was rambling, he busied his mouth in other ways. He kissed your neck, careful not to leave marks, before moving down to the valley of your breasts where he continued his work. The way he lowered himself onto you pushed his cock in even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible. 
His lips were warm. They were so warm. Each kiss felt like you were touching the sun. You could feel the heat against your skin even as he moved away, pressing kisses elsewhere. 
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Minho asked. 
You hadn’t even realized that you had been smiling, or that he had stopped kissing you. He was going faster now too. You hadn’t noticed that either. You were far too gone, clearly.
“Feels good,” was as much as you could manage, but that seemed to satisfy Minho. 
“Yeah? Have I fucked you dumb already?” he cooed condescendingly. 
You nodded. “Feels sooo good. Feel so full.”
You’d be embarrassed by your barely-comprehensible sentences, but you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure in that moment. You doubted you’d even remember what you said in the morning. 
“You close again, baby?”
“Uh huh.”
“Fuck, me too. I’ll get you there, though. I’ll make you feel even better.”
He brought one of his hands down to your clit and used his thumb to rub somewhat uncoordinated circles on it. He was gentler than he had been before, like he knew you were still sensitive from cumming the first time. The added stimulation brought you back to the edge in record time and all you could do to alert Minho of what was happening was frantically grab his bicep and squeeze it repeatedly.
“Gonna cum? Go ahead, baby.”
Your entire body tensed as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. Minho fucked you through it again, announcing that he was cumming right as you started to come down. Watching his face scrunch up in pleasure as he came was almost enough to send you into a third orgasm. His eyes shut and his mouth fell open into an O shape as his hips faltered. He didn’t stop thrusting until he was certain he’d given you every last drop of his cum, choking out a string of curses followed by your name through gritted teeth. 
He collapsed on top of you seconds later, completely spent and still inside of you. 
“Fuck, that was good,” he panted. You nodded in agreement, wincing when you felt him pull out. “You okay?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think I can walk. My legs feel like jelly.”
“Would another orgasm help?”
“No,” you groaned. “I can’t take another one.”
“I was kidding. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and back to your room.”
“Nooo, I’m tired,” you whined. 
“I know, I know,” he said softly, “but you can’t sleep here. Unless you want Jisung to find out?”
“Fine,” you mumbled. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear him moving around the hotel room. “Just give me like five minutes to nap.”
“You know I can’t do that.” When you opened your eyes he was wearing pants again and standing beside the bed waiting for you. “You need to shower. And pee. A UTI in the middle of vacation would really suck.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You knew that before sleeping with me.”
“Yeah, and I still did it anyway. Now, get up.”
“You’re so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, repeating the sentiment you had already voiced. Minho just chuckled and helped you to your feet.
“You seemed to like that earlier.”
“Yeah, when you were making me cum.”
“Well, I won’t be able to make you cum anymore if you contract an infection. So I have to be bossy or else you won’t listen.” 
“Or else you won’t listen,” you mocked. 
Minho grinned despite himself and shook his head at you. “We should’ve started doing this way sooner.”
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