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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

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Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd. When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life. They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene. For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey. Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did. “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face. She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.” Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well. So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit. “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.” For that, she received a slap on her arm from him. “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.” That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

“Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.” With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise. And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something. But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms. In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head. She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have. And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant. Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all. Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever. He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her. The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her. Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her. That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last. He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him. Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend? Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’ Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others. Bring Back Manly Men. At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life. “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?” “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.” “Why?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.” “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?” “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen. Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle. Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had. Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.” At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!” “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?” “You’re a menace.” Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.” His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head. For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?” Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.” She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!” “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?” “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.” Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?” “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?” “Deal.” “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“ But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call. She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her. When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox. “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.” He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.” “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after. “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.” That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.” “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.” “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.” The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’. To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N. The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck. I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing. Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.” “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.” But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything. Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word. He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on. But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself. Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone. Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.” That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.” “What? Why?” “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.” “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip. She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?” “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood. “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.” Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.” It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time. Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.” She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’ Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry. Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings. As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked. “Have you even slept, Har?” “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.” Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.” “I know, but I will.” Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over. She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head. “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?” But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around. “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two. Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?” “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.” Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?” “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.” Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her. All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together. Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course. For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together. As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot. No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to. A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing. “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.” She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest. Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set. This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’. Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?” “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?” “I told you I would!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.” Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?” “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.” “That’s what friends do.” “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?” And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do. The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest. His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face. She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.” Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.” “And you’re a living furnace.” “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?” The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.” For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work. “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.” He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?” “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.” “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves. “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.” Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.” “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?” “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?” She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?” “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?” “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.” “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back. It was then or never. Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart. “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?” “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.” Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.” “Oh.” That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.” At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session. In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible. As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers. “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded. “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.” Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it. “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.” “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp. “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.” But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on. The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her. But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.” Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.” And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment. “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him. “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.” “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.” “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.” But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?” “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…” Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!” And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes) – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

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A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.

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leonardcohenofficial · 3 years

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Wait Maddie as a certified theater mutual™ what do you think the significance is of like WHY they chose to make emotional vs physical intimacy such a key part of the values of the show? Part of me is wondering how it might reflect the realities of the people involved with the show and the things they themselves are maybe consciously or subconsciously insecure or even defensive about. Or maybe as part of the larger message that the show was trying to get across about how war leaves people untouched. But i don't actually know! Do you have thots on that? The why of it all?

solid question jones; i do think that part of it is likely the context of sex being treated as less weighty/intense within the context of MASH first being produced in 1972 after the kickoff of the sexual revolution. there's not really any moralizing about sex the way that there might have been had the show been produced ten years earlier; the way the show treats henry's sex lectures and the ways trapper and hawkeye are constantly hitting on the nurses and even frank and margaret's whole deal are, to me, reflective of the fact that views about sex in popular culture were shifting and hemming and hawing about everyone at the 4077th fucking all the time wouldn't do much for the show's audience. to me this also relates to the fact that nobody really bats an eye at the idea that hawkeye and carlye were living together before they were married, which is definitely more a reflection of "the more i see you" airing in 1976 than any historical accuracy of how anybody would have reacted in 1951.

which is interesting in regard to why the show emphasizes emotional intimacy over physical/sexual!! i think that the episodes that do explore the dichotomy—henry in love, life with father, bombed, the more i see you, hanky panky, comrades in arms, major ego, war co-respondent, etc. etc.—end up placing more weight on emotional intimacy than physical because it's easier to find a moment of physical respite than it is emotional. it also seems to be less of a moral failing to sleep with somebody than it is to be emotionally unfaithful; not that people are considered "bad" if they get emotionally involved, but that there's a weird weight to "emotionally cheating." of the episodes i've named, i'll briefly talk about what i think they're doing with these themes:

"henry in love" finds henry sleeping with a twenty year old, which is the main point of conflict in the episode between henry and the rest of the 4077th, who don't want him to throw away his marriage. the episode resolves with henry fully realizing that lorraine is the real thing and that his thing with nancy really wasn’t worth it

similarly in "life with father," henry's freakout over lorraine telling him that it's okay if he sleeps with other people seems to be less about her sleeping with other people, and more about the fear of them losing their emotional intimacy if she goes to the dance with somebody else (an orthodontist—!)

trapper's first impulse while margaret is crying when they're stuck in the supply shed in "bombed" is to try and offer her physical comfort, which isn't what she wants or needs in the moment. it's very fitting given trapper isn't great with being emotionally vulnerable, and margaret doesn't want to fuck her problems away, which is pretty much just what she does with frank

everything about "the more i see you" has to do with hawkeye and carlye not only sleeping together, but trying to pick back up romatically, which they can't do because they're in different places emotionally, carlye's married, and their relationship isn't sustainable

BJ compares carrie to peg at multiple points throughout the episode and thinks that because carrie is "right here, and [she's] so attractive and so close and so vulnerable" that he's likely to get too emotionally involved and he'll be moved to try and sleep with her again; hawkeye, who views it as "one lousy goof," makes him swear an oath to "think about peg often," which would presumably take care of the emotional risk

both margaret and hawkeye clearly have their own weird hangups and are acting like cartoonish extreme versions of themselves in part II of "comrades in arms," but i think part of it is that margaret wants emotional intimacy that hawkeye can't give her (that she's also obviously not getting from donald because he's cheating on her, and her response is to sleep with hawkeye in a moment of shared fear); meanwhile hawkeye, who is established to have weird hangups about sleeping specifically with married people, is treating her like an asshole i think partially because, as he states later, "maybe [they] cared for each other a little bit more than either of [them] would like"

"major ego" is a big deal for margaret's personal life because she was able to sleep with tom without the emotional weight or expectation for more; as she says, "for the first time since my divorce, i was free of my husband. i finally let him go"

there is so much to say about "war co-respondent" but it really comes down to the fact that BJ, as he states four seasons earlier, he "can't divide [him]self emotionally [...] not because god'll send [him] to hell without an electric fan, or because it's not the right thing to do. [he] simply [doesn't] want to." until he desperately wants to with aggie. as he states, "'til aggie showed up, i was convinced peg was the only woman in the world for me. i never met a woman like her. she's so different, so exciting. hawk, she's all i can think about. and not just about being in bed with her. i'm thinking about being with her." this is the issue. it's not that BJ just wants to sleep with her, it's about the emotional intimacy and the fear of losing the lifeline to mill valley

i think hawkeye's follow up to BJ's speech in "war co-respondent" is actually the show's mission statement: "funny thing about a war: people with absolutely nothing in common get thrown together and they really start caring about each other." this to me is the theme that runs throughout the entire show; MASH is exploring what it means to build those connections, and seems to put more weight on that type of intimacy—both "good" and "bad"—in a way that's really interesting to see shift throughout the seasons

(i don't have a whole lot to say in regard to the realities of the folks on the show besides alan and arlene alda laughing at barbara walters for suggesting in that one interview that there was even a REMOTE chance alan would be interested in cheating on arlene, but i think generally speaking the people on MASH were intersted in exploring the complexities of intimacy within the context of war and how that shifts priorities and the way we make meaning together)

#jones i'm so sorry this is an ESSAY #mash #hawkeye pierce #BJ hunnicutt #margaret houlihan #henry blake #tv: mash #M*A*S*H

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itadorisgf · 3 years

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Hi! Might I suggest a headcannons request for Gojo and Megumi (separate) with a fem!s/o who happens to be an esper like from mob psycho 100 if you’ve seen that? They have some connection to Jujutsu High but don’t necessary attend there, and her family business exorcises curses as well? Thank you so much if you answer this request, if you don’t feel like it’s for you feel free to delete! Nooo hard feelings at all :)

— fushiguro and gojo with an esper!s/o

note: thank you so much the suggestion!! okay i don’t have the greatest grasp on how being an esper works since i’ve only watched a few episodes of mp100 so far. i hope u still enjoy this!

ft. fushiguro megumi and gojo satoru.

warning: gn!reader

⤷ main page

— fushiguro megumi.

gojo introduces the two of you to each other before fushiguro begins attending jujutsu high. gojo likes to meddle and thinks fushiguro is far too angsty and needs more friends which leads to him whisking fushiguro off to meet you. it's a rocky start, especially since fushiguro doesn’t really care for any of gojo’s antics, but his interest is piqued when gojo states that you're an esper and not a sorcerer.

fushiguro’s never met an esper before, but he knows that they’re rare, even more rare than sorcerers. at first, he thinks you’re going to be totally stuck-up like the other high-up clans, but he’s surprised when you’re not.

much to gojo’s glee, after the rather awkward introduction, the two of you actually get on really well and begin dating right before fushiguro enters jujutsu high.

it’s a little difficult for the two of you to find time to spend with one another since you don’t attend jujutsu high. there are no espers at jujutsu high who can teach you, so you’re home schooled by your family instead. you guys make it work, though.

fushiguro is a private person, so when you show up unannounced on campus and greet fushiguro with a kiss on the cheek, his classmates lose their minds. his upperclassmen, as well as gojo, all know who you already, but itadori and kugisaki are immediately hounding fushiguro for answers.

sliding his hand in yours, fushiguro just says that you’re his partner before promptly walking away from the two. you toss a smile over your shoulder and wave at them, telling them that you’d love to chat with them later as fushiguro drags you away.

though fushiguro is surprised with your sudden visit, it’s not unwelcome in the slightest and he plans on making the most of the time you have together, aka a lot of cuddling in his dorm while the two of you watch movies together.

that becomes the usual for when you drop by to see fushiguro. you inevitably become friends with itadori and kugisaki, and fushiguro doesn’t suppress his mild annoyance at his friends hogging you when you come to visit him. he’d never admit that he’s glad that the three of you get along well with one another.

although you don’t attend jujutsu high, you often get sent on missions with the first years. it’s during one of these missions that fushiguro realizes just how powerful you are. it’s not like your abilities were unknown to fushiguro, you’ve known each other for a long time, but he’s never seen you in action like this.

you move so fluidly, exorcising curses with an ease that fushiguro’s rarely seen in other sorcerers. it’s then that he fully understands how different sorcerers and espers are even though they both exorcise curses.

fushiguro’s proud of how capable you are, but he could do without the gentle teasing that occurs whenever he gets his ass handed to him.

— gojo satoru.

gojo adores you without a doubt. he’s dubbed the two of as the most powerful couple ever, with him as the most powerful sorcerer and you as the most powerful esper.

you smack him on the back of the head whenever he says that. he’s not wrong, but you hate how smug he sounds when he says it. you also think that you don’t need to boast about how powerful you are. you just let the number of curses you’ve exorcised speak for itself.

you didn’t attend jujutsu high growing up. your parents chose to homeschool you instead and help you control your abilities. your family is on par with the highly respected clans within the sorcery community, which led to you meeting gojo who at the time was attending jujutsu high.

though he was pretty full of himself and a bit of a dick during your first meeting, you were intrigued by gojo. he wasn’t as stuffy as the other clan members you’d interacted with and he didn’t treat you so formally either. though his ego could be knocked down a few pegs, you thought you rather liked gojo satoru.

the two of you become friends soon after when he sees you training and cockily states that he could easily beat you. with gojo knocked to the ground and you standing above him with a slight grin, let’s just say gojo was proven wrong. you only start dating when you’re fully adults because it takes gojo some time to get his head out of his ass and acknowledge that he held real feelings for you.

gojo finds your abilities to be incredibly interesting. you both are powerful in your own right, but your techniques are so different from one another. he frequently asks you questions about what you can do because he’s genuinely curious, but he also likes to see how long it takes you to lose your patience with his incessant questioning.

it’s rare for the two of you to be paired up since the higher ups can’t often afford to have two such capable individuals working on the same mission since the number of sorcerers are always lacking. but, gojo loves when you’re assigned joint missions. he’s playful the entire time, trying to show off or flirt with you while on the job. you roll your eyes in fond amusement before exorcising your respective curse.

the fact you’re so powerful is secretly comforting to gojo. though he doesn’t voice it and probably will never tell you, the knowledge that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself eases any potential worries that gojo has regarding your safety. he knows how quickly a life can be stolen in this line of work, which is why it took him such a long time to acknowledge his feelings for you. for awhile he believed that the less attachments the better since it won’t hurt when they leave, but you wormed your way into gojo’s heart anyways.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #celeste.scribs #celeste.adores #adoring.fushiguro #adoring.gojo

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momota-kaiharem · 3 years

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maybe this is just my kinnie speaking but i think a lot about the way that shuichi and maki interact with kaito. let me take an interaction from the talent development plan as an example.

just rewatching this interaction made me pretty mad again FLKJDSLKFJ i love training trio and i freaking love their relationship, but god, the way that maki and shuichi treat kaito here just drives me absolutely crazy, so let’s break it down.

i think maki is the more egregious offender here (because shuichi is a simp with manners) but throughout the interaction she’s very dismissive towards kaito, asking why he brought them out there (when shuichi says it’s something they do a lot) and then saying he was useless when he went with them to the novoselic, and saying he didn’t need to go along at all. but up until here shuichi does defend kaito a bit, even if it’s in a bit of a patronisng way (remarking that kaito “does this a lot” but “isn’t it fun” and remarking that kaito’s use on the novoselic mission was to invite maki).

and then kaito says that when he goes to space, he wants to see if he can see shuichi and maki from up there, which is a really sweet sentiment, albeit unrealistic. maki shuts him down pretty fast saying he couldn’t see them from that far, and shuichi says that he might be able to see the general region, and then kaito says that he’d like to take them up to space, and THIS is the thing that really frustrates me.

kaito loves shuichi and maki. romantically, platonically, however you’d like to describe it, it’s obvious that he cares about them a LOT. i mean, he tries to convince kaede to become an astronaut too in his ftes with her, but you could argue that kaito was trying to convince her to go to space because he really respects her (as indicated by the way kaito was the only one to consistently stand up for kaede through chapter one, and the way he was willing to fight the exisals to keep monokuma from executing her, and the way he was crying after she got executed... also he asks her for hugs a lot and it’s really cute kaito you simp ilu) so again, it shows, kaito says he wants to take people to space because he loves them. space is what kaito has always been most passionate about. it’s his longest standing goal and something he wants to share with the most important people in his life.

obviously he’s being unrealistic here!! but maki and shuichi have been friends with kaito for three years by now, and they should be used to it-- they are used to it, actually, as shown by maki’s response-- but maki’s response is mean!!! it’s mean. kaito shared a sweet sentiment about wanting to share his most treasured thing with them and maki responded by calling him stupid-- which, if you remember, kaito really doesn’t like being called!!! i’d go grab screenshots, but i don’t want to go sit and watch trials until i can find it, but often when kaito is called an idiot he responds by yelling that he’s not, and that he doesn’t like being called that. i know with maki a lot of it is just banter, but still, the utter disregard for kaito’s feelings just because he’s a hahaha positive himbo man hee hee hoo hoo is... ugh. it happens a LOT throughout the game and it’s really upsetting to me.

and then shuichi’s response is what really upsets me. i know it’s just meant as a tease, but let’s think about everything that kaito has done for shuichi and maki for a moment, here. sure, his practical abilities might not be on par with theirs. he’s not a detective and he’s not an assassin, so he can’t solve murders or fight off danger, but his EQ is INCREDIBLY high. he saw maki and shuichi, and he saw that they were struggling, and he decided to take them under his wing and help them to grow. he didn’t have to do that!!! he didn’t owe them anything. maki and shuichi could’ve grown at their own paces, of course, i believe in them, but a large part of their becoming more comfortable with who they are was owed to kaito’s help and love and guidance that he showed them over the years.

so the implication that kaito, an ASTRONAUT, would need them to go to space to save him, is utterly ridiculous. and mean!! it’s really mean. it implies that kaito is useless without them, that he needs them to go up there to save him (like they’re always saving him or whatever, which i find really stupid because there are absolutely no tdp events where they help him even SLIGHTLY) when he’s literally been training to be an astronaut and go to space for the last three years!!! it’s his special interest, and it’s so invalidating, to take kaito wanting to share that with them and imply that he’s useless at it, and that he needs assistance that they’ve never offered him because of it.

and maki’s response is really gross to me too, like kaito doesn’t have any other friends, which is totally stupid. i’m sure kaede would jump to his aid if he needed her, and gonta, and any other members of their class-- i mean, kaito is a nice guy!!! he helps people!!! it was easy to rally everyone in chapter five to save kaito because he was inspiring them!!! kokichi took him because if he didn’t, kaito would be there making everyone want to keep going. maki saying that implies that kaito is so annoying that they’re the only ones who would put up with him, that they’re these two skilled people who are just there because they pity him-- which isn’t true at all, i mean they’re totally talented but ALSO i know for a FACT that maki and shuichi really appreciate kaito, so why don’t they just act like it??

actually, i have thoughts on the reason why they behave that way. it’s something that happens a lot when you get comfortable with people. kaito projects confidence, this really strong, self-satisfied demeanour. it’s clear (or at least it seems to be clear) that he has a lot of self respect. so the teasing, to maki and shuichi, feels harmless, because kaito has high self esteem, he can take it. besides, he clearly has an inflated ego, right? so he needs them to take him down a peg.

except that’s not true, and you can tell that kaito has low self esteem because of what happens in chapter four. all throughout that chapter people rag on kaito, calling him an idiot, saying he’s useless during trials, saying shuichi is the only smart one. kokichi calls him an idiot and antagonises him over and over and over and shuichi NEVER sticks up for him, never once sticks his neck out and says “hey, i really appreciate kaito, and i need you to stop talking bad about him”. instead he just lets kaito fend everyone off alone, and of course maki doesn’t stick up for him either. that’s part of what fuels kaito’s turn on shuichi in chapter five. sure, you could argue that it was about gonta-- but shuichi also turned the tables on kaede, who kaito showed more consistent affection/respect towards, and he didn’t hate shuichi for that. no, the problem was that shuichi was getting all the credit and appreciation from everybody (which was fine!!! he led the trials) and kaito was getting dumped on over and over and over and shuichi was just letting it happen, soaking in all the admiration and letting kaito be called useless.

and i mean, that’d be hard for anyone, being called stupid over and over, getting forcefully logged out of the simulation twice, once by your own sidekick who didn’t even bother asking you permission first, but it’s clear to me that kaito feels inadequate, especially as compared to shuichi, who is so intelligent and composed. kaito projects outwards, he puts on this big grin and calls himself a hero, and that must stem from a place of insecurity. there’s no way that someone who gave himself a dorky title like luminary of the stars is super secure in himself and his relationships.

there’s another reason why maki and shuichi probably treat kaito that way, and that’s because when you respect and appreciate someone that much, and you struggle expressing it, struggle with vulnerability, it becomes... hard to express. maki hasn’t been close to someone like she’s close to kaito for as long as she remembers. she’s never had a freaking nickname before, i mean, her life is really sad. clearly some of the teasing comes from a place of love, of “i respect and admire you so much, you helped me come out of my shell, idk what i would’ve done without you” and not knowing how to express it. i’ve been there. we’ve all been there. when you love a person but don’t know how to say it, sometimes you just end up playfully ragging on them.

and that’s fine, if it’s two-sided. banter has to be mutual, it has to be something that everyone is enjoying and is comfortable with. you choose things that they’re not sensitive about, that they’re fine with you taking the piss out of them over-- that they take the piss out of themself over. but let’s think about kaito for a minute here, and whether this is really banter.

1. does kaito ever jokingly call himself an idiot? does he ever say he’s useless, or he needs people to save him, or he’s dumb? how does he react when other people do it to him? even when maki calls him a dumbass ingame he gets upset about it, but then he brushes it off, because genuinely being hurt over something like that requires vulnerability and kaito doesn’t really DO vulnerability lmao

2. how does kaito respond? does he tease them back? i think if this was a case of healthy banter, kaito would’ve gone with a jab of his own, like, “haha, you two are hilarious, you know you love me” sorta thing, and then moved on to talk about the moon like he does in his next line. he doesn’t, though, and you never really see kaito making fun of those two. he calls maki a coward in chapter three, but he’s just being honest with her, being blunt about her weaknesses to help her grow. kaito doesn’t sugar coat things, doesn’t hold your hand and walk you through your problems. he’s a tough love sort of guy and that doesn’t work for everyone but it does really work for shuichi and maki, to the point where both of them become pretty confident in themselves, owed at least in part to the way that kaito guided them through becoming the people they wanted to be. but he doesn’t really tease them, never calls shuichi out on wearing his hat (he doesn’t even notice it) and never makes fun of maki for being an assassin/having a kill count/whatever stuff they’re insecure about. of course he doesn’t! kaito is a good friend.

i think it’s important to mention here that kaito does respond with lighthearted indignation before he brushes it off, but i just don’t feel like this is healthy, two-sided banter. you see maki and shuichi acting dismissive of kaito a lot, despite everything that he does for them. he puts up with it, but if anything that just shows to me more how everything in the relationship flows one way. all the care, love, and respect goes from kaito to shuichi and maki. he takes care of them, he helps them, he doesn’t mock them. in return they tease him (even if their intentions are good!!!) and don’t ever really push him to open up, nor do they stand up for him when people put him down, nor do they particularly try and get him to be honest with his emotions. take chapter four, for example, after kokichi punches kaito and he doubles over, coughing up blood. maki and shuichi just buy that it’s a cold when kaito says that, they don’t push, even though they’re both clearly skeptical. respecting boundaries is important, but you NEED to push sometimes, you need to make people open up, because in that case kaito was literally dying, and he had to spend the rest of his life putting up a front.

i mean, even when he was dying he was holding back the urge to cough, acting brave and strong, putting on a hero face so that the two of them could go on to defeat the mastermind and focus on things that mattered. not on him.

i love training trio, i think these three work so well together and they can bring out each other’s strengths and weaknesses, but i just think that shuichi and maki do NOT treat kaito well, and unless he opens up and communicates about it, it’s going to lead to building resentments and an increased lowering of kaito’s self esteem. maybe this wasn’t intentional on the part of the game, but if it wasn’t, clearly it just shows that dr is incapable of writing healthy friendships. i’d love to write a character study someday about these guys, where kaito talks about his feelings and maki and shuichi realise they treat him like crap, but until then i guess i’ll just sit here and scream about it.

#kaito momota #shuichi saihara #maki harukawa #momota kaito #saihara shuichi #harukawa maki #training trio #ndrv3 spoilers #saimota #kaimaki #harumota #u know u know #can you tell that i think about this a lot #character analysis #relationship analysis

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blkgojo · 3 years

Text

Two Superheroes, One Bed | Carol Danvers x Reader

In which, you and Carol hate each other, but have to share a bed.

Request: Anonymous

Despite popular misconception being a former terrorist does not make people like you. If anything, it makes them hate you. Despise you. Question you incessently with things such as, "Why did you do this? What is wrong with you? How could you have justified those acts?" And to be honest, your answer was less than satisfying. There was no tragic backstory. No great villain speech. Just you and your hatred for the government.

Living in the Avenger facility did little to change that.

See, the thing about Carol Danvers was that she wasn't an "Earth" hero. Logically speaking, there should've been no reason you disliked eachother as much as you did. You didn't work for the Kree. You had no squabble with saving refugees from colonial rule. On paper, you two were two peas in a pod. Both looking after people who didn't have others to help them, but you hated her the moment you laid eyes on her. Carol Danvers with the huge ass ego. Carol Danvers who somehow was fighting an intergalactic empire, but saw no problem with the way the US military conducted business. She hated you because honestly, who likes a murderer. Redemption arc be damned. You know how it goes.

"I just feel like I've done nothing to deserve this."

"You've killed hundreds of people."

"In total, the Avengers have killed like 2000 so, I don't really see how that's relevant."

Natasha sighs. Steve steps forward and when you cut your eyes at him, he raises his hands in plea.

"Half the universe's population is gone. The US government just needs a win."

You nod slowly. "And sending me across the fucking galaxy with-" You gesture vaguely to the blonde who until that point had decided to be quiet. "- is somehow a win."

"I hate to say this, but I agree," Carol interjects. "I work better alone. Y/N will just hold me back."

"We just need someone to go back to the planet where the infinity stores were destroyed. Make sure there are no remnants."

"It'd be quicker if I did it by myself."

"Y/N is the only one with the ability to replicate organic life," Steve retorts. "If there's a possibility she can locate some particle of infinity stone and replicate that, we need to take that chance."

"It'd be good publicity for her image and it'd bring us one step closer to bringing them back," Natasha continues.

"The world needs you to put aside your differences for the mission."

That was another thing you regretted about joining the Avengers. Steve had no shortage of motivating speeches under his belt. The good thing about villains was that they weren't much for conversation - there was no need to give motivating speeches when the odds were in your favor.

But, people were gone. Wanda, the only one you remotely liked, was gone. Snapped. Looking at Carol now, it looks like she must've lost someone, too. Her unpleasant face looks somehow more restrained than it usually did.

You sigh and fold your arms. "Fine."

All Carol does is nod.

It would take two earth days to reach his planet. Two. There'd been complications with the engine and so, it would take not the twenty four hours you expected, you know the time span that was customary for light travel, but it would take two days. Between that and the ship having to lower the heat to maintain proper oxygen levels, it wasn't fun.

"I could fly us there," Carol offers.

"Are you forgetting I can't breathe in space?"

Carol shrugs. "You replicate organic life right? Just replicate yourself a new pair of lungs."

"Fuck you."

She smirks, takes the only other available chair next to you. At first, she seems content to annoy you by tapping her fingers against the dashboard. Then, she grows bored. Worse, she tries to talk to you.

"Isn't all of this stuff automated?"

"Yes."

"So," she begins, stretching out the word. "You don't actually need to be here monitoring it. You can get on the cot." She shrugs. "Take a nap."

"I'd rather keep watch."

You think that'll be it and she'll be done, but she continues. You never would've pegged her as the type to not like silence. But, maybe that's not even it. Maybe, she just wanted to squeeze information out of you. God knows you weren't exactly open with the other Avengers when Fury made you join.

"You ever been to outer space?"

You shake your head. "When you're flagged as a global liability they tend to prefer you on the ground."

"A global liability? Is that what terrorists call themselves?"

"At least, we don't give ourselves cutesy nicknames like Black Widow or Captain Marvel."

She scoffs. "No. You guys just blow up innocent civilians."

"Yeah, I guess accidentally killing them is way better." You smile thinly. "For the greater good and all, you know?"

She stares at you long enough that you don't think she'll actually speak. Finally, she looks away and out to the empty abyss in front of you. "I don't pretend to know what the Avengers did while I was off-world. I see them now and they're good people."

You don't respond and she continues. "You must agree. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"Fury said it was either this or experimentation."

"Fury didn't say that."

You laugh bitterly. "He didn't, but he didn't need to. The governments experiment on all mutants - that's how we got Steve and Wanda - they just don't talk about it anymore." You spare her a glance. There's nothing in her expression that would tell you what she's thinking. "So, I chose the Avengers. And here we are."

"You could've escaped."

"Where?" You lean forward in your seat and prop your elbow on the dash. "Please tell me. Where can someone who's wanted internationally hide?"

She squints her eyes. "I'd help, but unfortunately, my knowledge of ideal vacation spots is pretty limited."

Carol's lips seem to be trapped in a permanent smirk - the corner always tilted up in vaguely hidden amusement. Even now. Her snark never stops. You feel your own anger dissipate as quick as it came. There was no point being angry with her. She loved it. Fed off it like a parasite or leech.

"It's almost like you're trying to piss me off."

She places her elbow on the console, leaning forward to shrink the gap between you two.

"Would it make you more angry if I was?"

One time, you and the raccoon had a bet. Whose eyes were more blue: Captain America or Captain Marvel? Like this, you'd have to say Carol. Her eyes had their own halo wrapped around the rim, highlighting the blue and making it fluorescent.

You rub your lips together and lean back in your seat, turning away from her to once again, look at the controls.

The ship breaks down when you reach his planet. You and Carol spend the first ten minutes after landing, arguing back and forth, blaming eachother. The next fifteen, Carol leaves you. Fucks off like a glow stick and searches the planet. When she returns, you haven't moved. Haven't left. You opted instead to lie down in the flowers. It was a beautiful planet. Perfect for retirement. The air was pure, almost light enough to get high in.

"I found his cabin."

"Great." You jump up. The blood rushing to your head and spotting your vision briefly, almost enough to cause you to wobble. "Let's go."

She steps in front of you, quick. You stop just short of bumping into her. Your faces are inches apart. That same infuriating smirk on her lips. Your eyes dart down, down to her chest - she was quite muscular, you could see that even through her clothes- down enough that she has to clear her throat.

"It's too far by foot." When your eyes meet, she's trying to not look smug.

You arch a brow. "Well, we can't fly."

"I'll have to carry you."

You groan.

"Believe me. I'd be more than willing to do anything else."

"Fine. Do it."

You step back and gesture at her to turn around. She rolls her eyes and in a breathe you didn't know you were holding, throws your arm around her shoulders, wraps her arms around your waist, and jumps. You scream. Through the rush of wind, you think you hear her laughing or perhaps, that's a lie and it's you. Laughing hysterically. No. You are screaming. Hitting her chest. And she's laughing. Fuck Natasha. Fuck Steve. When this is over, you're quitting.

When your feet touch the ground, you bend down and kiss it. Pray to it.

"Anyone ever tell you you're dramatic?" She asks.

"Anyone ever teach you about consent?"

"You told me to do it."

"I don't care!"

The two of you spend hours looking for remnants of the stones before you finally give it up and return to the ship. You were careful not to drift too close to his cabin. The Avengers never recovered the body. The rot of Thanos was thick, enough to gag over if you got too close. This planet wasn't used to death, not the harsh meat of Thanos. It had been months and he was still there, newly rotting as if it had been a week or two.

"I'll look again tomorrow before we leave." Carol pops a chip in her mouth, her feet kicked on the co-pilot chair while you lounged on the cot. "For now, you should get your rest."

"Don't you need to sleep, too?"

"I have been." She gestures to the chair.

You stare. Frown. The chairs were nowhere near comfortable.

"We can switch. I'll just take the blanket," you offer reluctantly. The nights here were cold anyways. Much colder than space. You involuntarily shiver.

"I prefer to sleep sitting up."

"Is that a military thing?"

To your surprise, she laughs. "Why?"

You shrug the blanket higher - the thin layer providing little comfort. "Cap likes to do that too."

As the sky gets darker, the cold filters in the cracks of the ship and between the layers of your comforter. You snuggle tighter within yourself, curl your knees up to your chest, burrow your hands underneath your pits. When that doesn't work, you shift again. It was always something. The blanket doesn't cover your feet here. You're uncomfortable there.

"You still up?"

You peek up to glance at Carol. She's leaned back in the chair, her head propped back against the headrest. When you shift, she pops one eye open.

"It's cold," you respond. "Are you cold?"

She shakes her head. "Temperature stops being a concern when you get superpowers like mine."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot you're a glow stick."

She snorts. "You talk a lot of shit for someone whose close to being an icicle."

"Bravado under pressure. It's my best quality."

You think she's gonna retort with another snort, but she stays silent. You make a move to stand, but she stops you.

"It's colder over here. See." She breathes out and you can see the cloud of her breathe. You frown.

"I can't sleep like this."

You think she's gonna do something like procure a blanket or throw you her jacket. You even think she might use her powers to heat the ship. It would make sense. Now, that you thought about it - she could've flew your ship to Thanos's exact location. You open your mouth to say as much, maybe, even yell at her as well, but she surprises you by standing.

Her head tilts to the side. Her mouth opening and closing again as if she's mulling over her next words carefully. If it were brighter, you might say this is the closest to nervous you've ever seen her get.

"I could lay down next to you." You blink. "My body generates a certain amount of heat due to -"

"Your powers. Yeah, I get it."

Slowly, you scoot over in the small cot. There wouldn't be enough room. You'd be touching regardless, but if you didn't turn over, it'd be okay. You could pretend instead of Carol, it was some space heater next to you.

"Come," you order.

You feel her weight in the cot, the warmth of her sinking in and spreading across the fabric. It hasn't even been a minute and already the cold has been dissipated. You could sleep if you wanted to. But, you don't. No matter how much you had wanted to pretend she was just some space heater, she was Carol. She felt stiff like a board and she was unbearably loud in her stiffness, her unwillingness to move.

"You can relax you know," you mumble.

"I sleep on my side."

You wonder now if she's smirking.

"No one's stopping you from doing that."

She moves and you know without looking that she's facing you. Her breathe tickles the hair on the back of your neck. You wouldn't be able to sleep like this. She's thinking so loud that whatever thoughts she's having are sure to interrupt your dreams. You turn over towards her - your faces are a hair apart. She's not smirking. Her lips are parted and her eyebrows raised, her expression torn between surprise and delight.

"You're making it difficult to sleep," you say simply.

"Am I?" She retorts. There it is. She's grinning. "That sounds like a personal problem."

You don't take the bait. "You know why you're making it difficult?"

She shifts her head slightly to imply 'no'.

"You're too far away. I'm still cold," you say.

She arches one brow. "This is too far away for you?"

You nod.

She shifts closer. Close enough that there's no room for you to glance at her lips. There's only her eyes staring into yours.

"This good enough?" She whispers.

"No."

"You're proving difficult to please, Y/N." And you can tell she's trying to be smooth, but right now, you just want her to shut up.

You barely have time to open your mouth to say as much before she's kissing you. Pressing her soft lips to yours, her hand finding its way to your hip and resting there. She tugs you closer to her until your bodies are flush against one another. The soft pecks growing longer. Light sparks from her fingertips, burning the trim of your jacket. She fists it as she presses you into her. Her touch still gentle if demanding.

You pull away slowly to breathe. To catch air. You forget why when your lips stop touching.

"Been wanting to do that for awhile," she says with a smile.

"I didn't know I wanted to do it honestly," you respond because it's true. All you knew was that Carol was infuriating. Still is. Only now you want to kiss her, too.

"Really?" Carol asks. "You didn't know you wanted me?"

"You find that hard to believe?"

"I do," she grins. "You know the raccoon and Groot have a running bet on which one of us would crack first. Groot bet on me."

"Groot lost, then." You mean to kiss her, but she pulls back.

"You're the one who invited me into bed with you."

"Because you offered your services."

"Because you complained about being cold."

You groan, snuggle into her chest so you don't feel the need to respond to her. Thankfully, she stops. Her spare hand strokes your back and slowly, you drift into sleep.

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine #carol danvers #captain marvel

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softkuna · 3 years

Text

Sukuna || Interview || Fic

Part 1

Content ║ Punk!Sukuna x reader. There is an oc version here.

Beauty wasn’t in the eye of the beholder, no, it is in the mind. Sukuna was enraptured. Addressed again, he shifted his posture, leaning into the arm of the couch as she did with her chair. The two were close in their cohort. An air of comfortable conversation lingered between them, much to his dismay. Her question wasn’t unusual. He’d been asked it in the beginning of his career and one where he had a planned answer.

Count ║ 2,626 K

Consider ║ Swearing. Female Pronouns (she/her).

Creator ║ This is the reader version. I took the name of the oc out. Hopefully the double post isn’t too weird? I did research on punk fashion, culture, and all which was really interesting. I knew some stuff about it before, but it’s really rich! I hope it’s not too information dense for you guys. Either way, Punk!Sukuna is now my comfort au and writing him is an absolute delight!! Also, Sorry for changing from ‘you’ to she/her ;v; it’s a lot easier for me to write/edit this way.

Sukuna had a lazy grin as he lounged back into a modern cream sofa. His arm stretched across the back of it, ankle crossed over his knee. Eyes staggered from the two cameras set up to the woman talking with some other chick. One held a small stack of papers, the other was grandly gesturing. He breathed out a short-stop breath, wishing they wouldn’t waste his time with bickering. Annoying as it was, it left a thick self-satisfactory lather over his ego.

“-didn’t you say the band?”

“Yeah, but this is better.”

“Sure… but what happens if-“

Quite frankly, he hated most press and avoided it, so to just have him in the hot seat was a double-edged blade. They didn’t get the whole band, but they did have The King himself. Whatever publicity he thrived off of were live shows, signings, fancams, tangible and real-time events. Interviews were a complete and utter waste of his time. He did a couple in the beginning, but found them pointless, callous even. They all asked the same shit. So, him coming alone was absolutely a note to pin to the fridge, even if it were a passive-aggressive post-it note.

His head turned to the two going back and forth. It wasn’t until the third minute ticked by that Sukuna felt the flashpoint of his blood plummet, “Yo! We doing this or what? You’re wasting my time here, Eros.”

The blogger whipped her head to the man with an indignant, “Excuse me?”

“Eros. Known for being reckless and unreliable? Like your scheduling.” He leaned forward, elbow on knee and chin in palm. The aura of shit-eatery exponentially growing, “You’re not excused, sorry, not sorry Princess.”

“I think you have the wrong God,” She quipped as she dusted off the front of her outfit. It was a smart look and an intentional one for an interview with a punk rocker. What would strike the best complement than a khaki academic outfit? It consisted of a white high collared button up, sleeves billowing before cinching at her wrists. The blouse was stuffed into high-waisted, cuffed khaki chinos, pleated at the center of each pant leg. Over top, a gray woolen sweater vest. Accessories included various silver rings, a black ribbon to tie under the folded collar, and small silver studs as earrings. Makeup remained that done-up natural with brow, liner, and mascara. Hair had been swept into something similar to a faux 1920’s bob, pulled loosely back. The overall silhouette made the perfect contrast.

Sukuna wanted to peg her as your average superficial fashion bitch, he really did. Even at the concert, she dressed smartly despite the pathetic look on she wore on face. It wasn’t until afterwards when he saw the burn in her eyes, that he craved for her to prove him wrong.

Black flats clacked as she approached her own seat, a matching armchair to the couch. She held a certain command once she walked in, instructing him on where to be, which camera to look at, and what the introduction would be. He listened, admiring how her small frame moved to and fro, fixing up last minute edits on a paper, chattering with who he assumed to be a videographer. It was a whole production. One that was hers. The set itself was practically out of a home décor magazine. It was a general space used across the publisher, but she was born to be there. Deserved to be there. Her calculated glee and deliberate positioning of each member made him feel as though he were looking through a mirror.

The interview process began.

She sat professionally, legs crossed and leaning on the arm of her chair closest to Sukuna. He was unmoving, that slit to his lip curling upwards as the cameras began. She introduced the blog, the channel, her social media handles. With a smile, she introduced herself, “With me in this special is lead singer of Two Face, the King of Curses – Sukuna.”

The camera panned to his lazy wave, “Yo.” He looked to her, she looked to him and for a moment she thought she saw a flicker of interest. Maybe the man was meant for cameras after all.

“After looking more into the punk scene, there’s a pretty interesting history behind it. Revolution, social discourse, poverty, violence, and unity. As someone in the scene, can you talk a little bit about what you know of the background?”

Sukuna drank in her voice, smooth and warm like the steady strum of a bass guitar. For a moment, he wondered if she sang. He quirked a brow, “Sounds like you didn’t research enough to summarize it yourself,” Eyes flickered to her features, watching as slight annoyance crinkled onto her nose then smoothed, “Let me learn you, Daisy. Starting back from rock in the 50’s, take that, strip it, build it with shit you find in the backyard…” His wrist rolled as his harmonious voice sang on, lacking even a single stutter as he summarized the movement top to bottom, inside and out, “…So, people would make their own records, sell them in plastic bags, they’d scan and reprint photos to make their own ‘zines. Shit was hard to distribute without tech…”

Much of his dissertation, she hadn’t even found on her own deep dive into the culture. Sure, the anarchist and nihilistic ideologies were well known to pretty much anyone who would listen, but the deep history and connection between communities was far beyond the surface scratched into.

“There’s a crowd of sub-genres now. Fuck ‘punk is dead’ what even is that bull shit?” Sukuna scoffed, jerking his chiseled chin to the side, “Only thing that’s dead here is – ironically – peoples drive to change.”

His interviewer sat in silence for a moment, mind spinning. He spoke in the way a well-educated University professor gave a dissertation to his peers, dripping in confidence from his storm of information. He was articulate despite the fowl language, even including a tie in to modern perception. Excitement curled into the recess of her mind. In a delightful turn of events, expectation and reality didn’t match up.

She leaned forward slightly folding her hands over the arm of the chair, “That was comprehensive. Thanks!” She chuckled, causing the man before her to freeze and thaw with a nod. She continued, “With all of this mention of D.I.Y. culture in punk, let’s talk about Vivienne Westwood.”

Sukuna kept his attention to her profile as she spoke to the camera, catching himself in the glow of her enthusiasm, “On Kings Road in England, she kickstarted the fashion movement into gear. Now, many would think that with a style such as this, it would’ve been hand-me-downs, pins, self-stitching, but contrary to this belief, many of the clothes in her store were expensive. Knock offs circulated, and seeing as much of it did have that hand-done finishing touch, many decided to take tailoring to their own hands…” Not that this was a competition, but she found herself trying to prove his ‘research’ comment wrong. Her ability to scour and exhaust her resources of fashion history is the furnace that kept her going and she would make it well known that she was not to be challenged.

The approaching lurch of a stalemate stuck to the walls of the vocalist’s stomach. Something he didn’t think he’d feel for a while. Small stuff over here may not’ve known all there was about the cultural history, but he could feel the crashing wave of fascination washing over him as she spoke. Sure, some of it he knew. Some of it he naturally garnered from stylistic preference and others he learned for marketing, however there was just a certain target she aimed for with such precision that he bled a newfound admiration.

“You’ve answered it already, yeah, I know. I saw the interview,” Her head tilted to the side, pleasant smile hinting at her trick, “but enlighten me for a second about how your natural style transitioned to what it is on stage. We’ll put up some of the photos taken from last night here,” her hand gestured to some empty space, “You basically turned chiaroscuro and made it a performance. It’s obvious in how each member contrasted with themselves and the stage.”

The chick didn’t even know who he was a week ago, yet somehow watched every interview since the start? An answer tumbled from the tongue readily, “Punk is like a renaissance of music. Like I said before, it tore down the foundations of what was before and built something new out of it.” The words were succinct, but as her pretty lashes bat, he was goaded into continuing, “Contrast is important. I like art. I like plays. Just ‘cause it’s punk doesn’t mean I can’t have it look aesthetic? Or is that a word only snobby fashion journalists can use now?”

“Hm. Change ‘journalist’ to ‘vocalist’ and you’re a word away from meeting the requirement,” It was a sour candy treat traded for his lemon warhead.

“Ouch. Miss Blog-Spot here has some sass,” His large frame leaned further into the armrest, cheek resting on that fist.

“Mister Eight-Track here is some a–“

The videographer clapped his hands, “We have sponsors, you know. We can at least censor him.”

It was Sukuna’s time to laugh a loud, hyena-like cackle. A large hand smacked his leather-clad knee. She scrunched her nose again, biting back her tongue from childishly jutting out at him.

As soon as the videographer clapped his hands again, she recollected herself, shuffled her papers, and continued on, “From what it looks like, you took a mixture of old and new high-trend brands and added a touch to them to keep with theme. Even now, you’re wearing a Real McCoy with cone spikes embedded. Is that custom made? McCoy isn’t cheap.”

Part of him hated her keen eye, but reveled in her raw talent all the same. “I’m not going to bull shit you and say I dumpster dive for my clothes. I like high quality things. What’s the point in making money if I can’t spend it? What’s a bigger ‘fuck you’ than having your version of a top-brand item being worth more than the original?” With a proud glint in his eye, he rolled the jacket off, sure to make a grand display of strong, bare arms as he did so. The muscle tank he wore was similar to the concert before, white with a pocket, neckline was stretched and worn. It hung over the dense muscle of his shoulders and chest. Sukuna could feel the trail of her eyes on him. His chest puffed from her approval. He threw the jacket over his knee, flipping the leather inside out to show where the studs had been placed, “See this? Did it myself.”

Manicured fingers touched the inside of the jacket, thumbing the connecting points that the studs were pressed in by and sealed. The work was immaculate. Sukuna leaned back, canines gleaming as he saw her mouth move in a silent ‘wow’. He picked the front of his tank top, snapping it up and allowing it to billow back to his body, “Embroidered this, too.”

He waited for her comment, her praise. Why? Like he needed some two-bit Vanderbilt bitch’s validation. He chalked it up to being praised by a master of the craft. He hadn’t been prepared for her to take the fabric between her fingers and rub it, concentrated brows cinched like a corset. Well-toned abs flinched in response to her delicacy, but she didn’t notice.

The embroidery was messy and chaotic, but it was obviously intentionally. The way the needlework was so clean, barely leaving a hole from the pull of the exceptionally soft fabric. It wasn’t floral like in the concert, but abstract stitching created crosses and streaks here and there, using the composition of the fabric as like it were a canvas. Experimentalist. It was like touching the work of Westwood herself.

God, she hated how perfect it was. It squeezed her heart to know that he was so effortlessly multi-talented. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers once more, attention being stolen by his baritone voice. She could practically hear the treble in it, “Ey Princess, you think it’s okay to just touch me?” His breath caught under the arrogant teasing of his words. Not from the words themselves. Couldn’t care less about that. What choked him up was whatever resplendent emotion flared from them when she peered up to him.

“Let me check the tag.”

“What?”

The blogger leaned back, cheekily snapping the shirt as she did so. “Your shirt, can I check the tag? I want to see what its made out of. Also, sorry.”

Sukuna blinked twice, mouth stupidly hanging open before he leaned forward, “I’ll allow it.”

He may have tinnitus, but he wasn’t deaf enough yet to miss the mocking ‘I’ll allow it,’ muttered under her breath. He wanted to laugh, but for the second time, the graze of chilled fingertips along his skin shut him up. Along the back of his neck, she fiddled to flip the collar and tug it. Her eyes squinted and a hum escaped her throat. Sometimes she wished she could read upside down. That’s when she sat on the back on the sofa and leaned closer, pulling the shirt to better read the small print. If Sukuna were a cat, he’d lean his head into her. The thought physically bothered him.

“I knew it. It’s American Pima. Thanks for letting me check.”

He missed the shiver her touch gave him as she sat back into her chair.

“While I have more questions for you, this video’s gotten pretty long already, so we’ll have to cut it a bit short here,” She gave a closing statement, motioning for her guest to do the same. With a thanks, the cameras were cut.

While the editor and videographer chatted together, She leaned heavily into the back of her chair, poised posture slipping into something more comfortable. Long lashes slid closed and a heavy drag of breath lifted her chest. Sukuna’s eyes trailed along her form, contemplating Eros once more.

She exhaled sharply, “I do appreciate you coming on stage. It’s disgusting how talented you are.” She laughed, cracking an eye open to meet his, “I prepped a lot of questions thinking you’d be short with me. It’s a shame I only got to ask a few.”

He was surprised himself. It was more than just her talent to make him talk - she may have been the first to see him as an opportunity rather than a commodity. ‘She would be the first and last reporter to see me as a meal’ was the thought he had going into this interview. He had every single intention to shut down her buffet, make it apparent that he was not to be dined on by a single soul. Yet, if his dish were ‘opportunity’, hers would be ‘intrigue’. He wanted to devour it, to know its palette and identify its spices. It was a compulsory urge to order, just to see why he craved it in the first place.

“Film the next few concerts. Backstage.”

Tags: @lovesakusa

#⛩.sukuna #⛩.fic #⛩.punk #🍺.jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk fic

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hisunshiine · 4 years

Text

—work out for me (M) jjk

🏋🏻‍♂️Part of the “Making You Sweat Like That” Collaboration

🏋🏻‍♂️pairing: neighbor!gymrat!jungkook x neighbor!reader

🏋🏻‍♂️word count: 3.2k

🏋🏻‍♂️genre + warning: 18+, nsfw, post breakup au, strangers/neighbors to lovers | mean ex-boyfriend, semi-public unprotected sex, wet sex, submerged sex, hot tub sex, kissing, groping, semi-clothed humping, teasing, sucking, biting, & marking, praise, scratching, creampie, post-sex cockwarming, jungkook has a fat cock

🏋🏻‍♂️summary: after a bad breakup, you move to a new apartment complex with a full gym and amenities. wanting to catch the eye of your very fit, across-the-hall neighbor, you start using the gym hoping to see him there. when he shows up to the gym and asks to join you, working out takes on a new meaning.

🏋🏻‍♂️an: this is a revamp of my original story from june of last year! i hope you enjoy the additions/changes made to the story, and please await the sister gym-fics for this special collab, coming soon!

collab masterlist coming soon!

“Who would want you!?” Changkyun says icily. He’s yelling as you walk with the last of your belongings out of the once shared apartment. You cringe, hoping the neighbors are at work or just out in general.

“Clearly you wanted me, Changkyun. I’m sorry that we’re not working anymore… But I can’t do this anymore.” You keep your voice steady, not raising it like you want to. He’s also lucky that your hands are full carrying this box, or else you would have already swung on him. But you know it’s best this way.

His toxic ass loves a fight, loves to create drama in your relationship because of the thrill of making up. Make up sex with Changkyun may be fun, but the rest of the relationship had gone stale a while ago. And you’re tired of fighting.

The last argument, he had taken it too far, so you’re done. You realize as you load your car that he finally caught on. You’re leaving him for good this time, and his fragile ego can’t handle the fact that you’re the one who is making the decision to leave.

He hopes that by insulting you he can get you to stop and face him. But you won’t make that mistake. You know he will use it to his advantage, turn it into hot, passionate sex, but you want more than just make up sex and drama.

“I can have any girl, YN! I’ll get someone better than you!”

“I’m sure you can have any girl. But I’m not just any girl.” You climb into the driver’s seat of your car, finally making eye contact with him one last time. “Good luck finding a woman like me. I truly wish you all the best.”

Swinging the door shut in his face, you back out your 4-door sedan and head out towards your new apartment in Itaewon.

The new Itaewon apartment is nice, with two bedrooms and one bathroom, you have ample space for all of your belongings. It feels a little empty that first week, and despite having had a tour prior to moving in, you are still not ready to use the facility's amenities fully. The tour showcased that the apartment had a computer lab, a pool, a game room, gym & sauna, and a small theatre room.

Scattered around between apartment buildings are a volleyball court, basketball court, and picnic area. You’re within walking distance to some of the more popular places to hang out for young adults your age, but have yet to go out and enjoy the nightlife.

Running down to your car, where you have left that last box after your encounter with Changkyun—files for a work project forgotten in the backseat—you spy the hot man who lives somewhere in your building. He’s walking back from the gym, shirt dark from sweat in spots as he carries a small gym bag on his shoulder. He’s staring at his phone; strands of his hair slick from perspiration block his eyes but the smile as he sees something on the screen gives you that funny feeling in your tummy. He’s absolutely gorgeous.

You pass him by, noting that his scent is still fresh despite the fact that he has to have just finished a vigorous workout, but due to the deadline on your report, you don’t have the time to linger in his fragrance that fills the narrow hall. You jog back into the building, and when you approach your door, you ascertain fate is on your side.

Apartment 613, directly across the hall from you, has the door propped open by a gym bag—one you recognize easily, since you had just seen it only a mere minute and a half ago. When a dark head of hair pops between the opening, bending at the waist to grasp the handle and pull the bag in, and you dart into your own apartment.

You feel like a blushing schoolgirl avoiding her crush, but his aura is intimidating to you. Maybe one day you’ll gather the courage to talk to him, but not just yet.

“What about, I don't know, making a change?”

Your best guy friend’s voice crackles through the phone line as you tidy up your living room. You hold your phone between your shoulder and your ear, keeping your hands free so that you are able to fluff the couch pillows and fold the throw blanket you fell asleep using on the couch.

“Okay Hoseok, what change do you suggest that I make? I already dropped 169 pounds of toxic ex. I feel like that’s pretty healthy.”

“Why not just go to the gym and use that to burn off all your pent up sexual frustration. You hurt Yoongi’s feelings the other night when you wouldn’t listen to his new track. You’re mean when you aren’t getting dick constantly.”

“Wow, thanks Hobi. Love you too.”

“See. Your sarcasm did not go unnoticed, hun. I’m just saying. Until you can get worked out… work out.”

“I know.” You let out a sigh, defeated. “I stopped going to the gym once I started dating Kyun, spending more time at home acting like a wife, when I knew he was too much of a player to ever settle down for real.” You glance to your front door, imagining 613 dripping with sweat. “I guess I could take your advice.”

“First time for everything.”

“Who the fuck decided going to the gym that their apartment complex provides at the same time, 7PM to 8PM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is a good idea?” you huff under your breath. It’s Friday night, and while most people your age are out on dates, cuddled up watching Netflix, or taking shots pregaming, you’re working up a sweat on the elliptical. The gym is normally empty at this time of night, nearing 8PM, and you aren’t feeling all that motivated. So why are you still there?

After moving into your new place, a couple weeks after leaving your longest relationship, you’re ready to be all about you. That’s why you decide to create a gym routine and stick to it, to reclaim your self-esteem your shitty ex had knocked down a peg or two. You didn’t realize how much of what he would say during fights started to become the voice in your head, until he was gone and unable to quiet the ache between your thighs and in your mind.

You’re ready to quit your gym regiment after the first week.

That is until your hot neighbor appears as you’re about to throw the towel in.

Hottie from apartment 613 walks in, black hair pushed away from his forehead but still extra floofy, a black tee and black joggers hanging loose off his lean frame. The fluorescent lights glint off the metal earrings dangling from each ear, and his eyebrow; you are enthralled. Each step he takes is fluid, his body moving gracefully across the black rubber gym flooring as he heads to the treadmill.

This isn’t the first time you have seen him in the gym. You saw him during the tour and when you were given your keys—you had come to see the setup of your mailbox area and test the mail key when you first had moved in, long hair in his face as he did pushups. You noticed his body first, despite the extremely baggy clothes he wore, and you could see his shape underneath as he moved. You then continued to explore the front lobby, computer lab, and gym areas, all so you could watch him as he continued to his arms, chest, and laughed with a friend in the gym.

If you’re honest, Apartment 613 is the reason you decide to take Hobi’s advice to go to the gym. Being located across the hall from him, in 614, you learn his gym schedule after overhearing the times his door would slam shut behind him as he hustles downstairs. You decide to time your trips 30 minutes before he’ll typically go, in hopes that you can run into him. Coincidentally, of course. Monday and Wednesday are failed attempts. He never shows up and you are left feeling dejected and sore. Friday is your last attempt, and you almost give up too, but then he appears.

You watch as he grabs weights off the rack behind you, working his arms, and you walk over to the nearby hooks with mats on them so you can sit and stretch. You’re done with your workout, and after stretching, you figure it’s a good time to hop into the hot tub to relax your muscles.

After completing a good full body stretch and watching Hottie from 613 move around the gym, who you notice has been slyly eyeing you up and down as well, you travel over to the hot tub, where you strip off the oversized T-shirt, leaving you in just your sports bra and spandex shorts. It’s now close to 10 PM, but luckily the gym is 24 hours, and the hot tub is located in a tucked away corner behind the sauna. Private enough for you to feel comfortable to be half naked for a quick dip.

“Mind if I join you?”

A honey sweet voice, perfect in it’s tenor pitch carries over your shoulder.

You turn, smiling softly at 613.

“Not at all. I’d love the company.”

He’s funny. So funny and super cute. He’s also super flirtatious, grazing soft touches to your arm and sweeping his fingers across your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. Currently, you watch as rivulets of the water run down his neck, following a vein you want to press your lips into and suck on as he tells you about his hobbies.

“What do you like to do—? Um, I actually don’t think we exchanged names yet.”

“Y/N. I live in building 6.”

“Jungkook, and me too! I’m 613.”

“I’m 614! We’re across the hall from each other.” You pretend to be shocked, knowing damn well that you have been privy to this information since you’ve moved in there.

“Wow, I’m surprised…” His eyes linger on your exposed cleavage. “I feel like I should’ve noticed you.”

“Really? What makes you say that?” you say boldly, moving across the hot tub towards him. The middle of the jacuzzi was actually pretty deep for your height, and standing up fully still has you under water from the armpit down.

You feel his hands on the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to him between his legs where he sits, putting you both at about the same height.

“For one thing.. I definitely notice a nice ass. I don’t think I would’ve forgotten this one.” His hands glide up along your thighs, cupping your cheeks. Moving with the momentum, you allow yourself to climb up, straddling his lap without sitting down fully on him just yet. This puts you a little taller than him, allowing streams of water to flow from your breasts down along your tummy and back into the water.

He’s squeezing his fingers on your ass, feeling you up and you can sense when he rises with excitement from where your body straddles his. Feeling bolder than you ever have, you lean down and kiss him, and the movement causes you to rub your clothed core against the tip of his rising cock.

His lips are as soft as you thought they’d be, his pink pout moving skillfully with your own before his tongue asks for permission to taste you. Because you’re only wearing the spandex shorts, when his large hands pull you closer to him, his hardened shaft soon throbs against your pussy, feeling as if your spandex shorts are already off of your body.

Lowering yourself fully onto his lap, keeping your knees on either side of his hips, you stroke your core back and forth along his shaft, with your hands moving to wrap lightly around his neck. He places his hands on your hips guiding you back and forth along him. The friction of your bodies feels so good, despite the burn of your thighs after your workout. He slowly slips his thumbs into the top of your spandex, and begins to slide them down.

You let him.

You break your lips apart to catch your breath, because it’s already hot in the water, and every touch from him is making your body feel like it's aflame. You slide his boxer briefs down as he pulls your sports bra over your head, his shirt the last thing between you until you’re both naked in the hot tub.

Climbing back on top of him and using your hand, you grab his now fully firm cock and rub the throbbing head along your slit, parting your folds in order to use him to massage your clit. He moans softly into your mouth, a musical sound that gives you goosebumps. Bodies wet and temperatures high, you position him at your aching entrance and sit there with his dick head pulsing to go in, but you’re not allowing him entrance yet.

Jungkook moves his kisses lower down to your neck, suckling softly at your sweet spot behind your ear as his hands tug you impossibly closer.

“Teasing me after we’ve come this far, baby?” he whispers, his wet hair tickling your collarbone.

With his words goading you into movement, you give in, slowly lowering yourself while simultaneously rotating your hips. You engulf his dick with your walls and can feel yourself cream all over his fat cock as he spreads you open. It’s been a month—at least—since you last had sex with your ex, possibly longer, and Jungkook is just so much bigger…

You take a breath before continuing, slowly beginning to ride him up and down once you adjust to his size. You suck at his neck, enjoying the way the water helps you ride him. He bites your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth before pulling away slowly, giving you a sultry look. The steam rises, hiding your naked bodies away from any potential peeping eyes.

You take in the view, the rising wisps of evaporating water framing his doe eyes and reddening skin. His lips are a magnet to your skin, and Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing along your jawline until he reaches your neck and he begins to suck, using his tongue to draw circles. It feels amazing. You keep riding him, enjoying the way he fills you up.

“Baby, can I go faster?”

His voice is low and whiny; you can tell he’s aching for more of you, as are you of him. You nod, biting your lip as your hooded eyes meet his own, and he pulls out of you with a sigh of relief for what’s to come. Turning you gently to face the edge of the hot tub, he has you lean your chest on the perimeter and guides your hand to the cool metal of the entry railing as he enters you from behind.

Arching your backside as high as you’re physically able, you lay flush to the ledge of the jacuzzi, spreading your legs apart farther where they kneel on the tiled bench to give him a better angle. He has one hand on the same metal railing of the whirlpool stairs and the other wrapped around your waist where his palm and fingers lay open and spread across your tummy, where he’s applying pressure in the hope that he can hit your G spot.

He’s successful.

You attempt to crawl away from the pleasure, climbing up further onto the ledge when your foot finally finds purchase on the slippery bench seating.

“You running from me?” Jungkook laughs, unable to stop the jovial sound from coming out of his swollen lips as he watches you try and escape the tantalizing way he fills you. You know you agreed he could go faster, but the fullness of his glide along your gripping walls has you wanting to backtrack. Who knew sex could feel like this—like you were about to reach nirvana, like once you come you won’t ever be the same.

“I don’t, see—ahhhhh… How this is a— ssss fuck! A laughing matter,” you cry out with trouble.

Your body tries again to run away. It doesn’t hurt; on the contrary the pleasure was too high, but he changes tactics to listen to your body. Lifting you almost effortlessly out of the water so your torso is fully onto the surrounding surface, he showcases his raw strength as he carries out this task while simultaneously plunging his dick deeper into you as he takes your original position of kneeling on the tiled seat in the hot tub, giving him the perfect angle to continue to fuck you.

“Ahhh, Jungk-kook, I’m… fu—!” He pulls out of you again, despite the tug of your walls to keep him inside and turns you on your back to face him. Bringing one of your legs up, he rests it on his chest as he begins slowly pumping into you.

“I knew you’d be flexible, Y/N.” Jungkook moans as he positions both of his hands on either side of you. You lift up the leg that’s still down, and he places it into the crook of his arm.

“Go as deep as you can,” you pant, “and stay in. I want to feel you.”

Pulling you back into the water, Jungkook carries your now weightless body to the deeper part of the hot tub, holding you in place. You’re practically folded like a pretzel; both of your legs are hooked at the knee in the bend of his arms and his cock remains nestled deep inside of your cunt, walls pulsing around him as your muscles try to fight his thick penetration.

“You take me so well, damn baby.” Jungkook praises you and he’s rewarded with a tightening grip that tells him you’re more than enjoying the moment with him. He’s definitely enjoying the moment as he’s buried within you.

You place your head into the crook of his neck, and claw his back in an attempt to pull him closer. You’re moaning loudly by this point, so you bite his neck to keep from yelling. Jungkook backs you up into the wall of the hot tub and begins to pump faster, and you can feel yourself build towards climax again. The water’s penetrating against your back from the jets, and Jungkook’s penetrating your front.

“Ah, fuck… Jungkook—don’t stop, uh-huh… Kookie, deeper… right there!” you yell as he finally hits his last few deep & hard strokes, before finally emptying himself out into you. Your walls quiver around him, sucking out every last drop that he pumps into you.

You’re breathing hard, and Jungkook sits on the ledge seat in the water with his head back and his eyes shut. You float over to where he is and he grabs you so that you’re straddling him, though this time you rest your head on his firm chest.“Damn, that was a fucking workout.”You laugh into his strong chest.

“It was worth the pain I’ll feel tomorrow.”

He looks down at you, his chest feeling light as he takes in your messy bun, cute smile, and the way your eyes are shut as you relax against him.

“How about I give you a full body massage back at my place to make up for having you work out for me a second time tonight?”

thank you for reading! ♡ 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵. ♡

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blessednereid · 3 years

Text

Love and Monopoly

Milton Greasley x Reader,

Fandom: TVDU/Legacies

Dialogue Prompts: “Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!” and "You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

Fun Take on Angsty Prompts

Warning: Cursing, Drinking, Kissing, Necking, Mentions of food, brief mentions of blood (bunny blood for vamps), Monopoly

A/N: Someone please open my messages and give me a crash course on how to write a makeout scene I can’t do it, OMFH ಥ‿ಥ

Word Count: 2760

You and Milton Greasley had been dating for 5 years.

You met during your shared time together at Salvatore Boarding School. You were a witch who helped MG calm down whenever he went into a ripper mode. You had used spells to lower his bloodlust. You even made the bunny blood that the school had fed vampires taste as close to human blood as you could without triggering a negative response.

After you all graduated, The Super Squad all rented a house in Mystic Falls, and you were all roommates. The house had 5 bedrooms, one for you and MG, one for Lizzie, one for Josie, one for Hope, and one for Kaleb. However, since Josie and Hope began dating, they had moved into the tribrid's room, so now the empty space was more of a game room. There were board games and consoles in the closet, a pool table, and a regular round glass table surrounded by armchairs where you all could sit and play games.

Tonight was your bi-weekly game night, and you all had decided to play monopoly. Though it was a unanimous decision, you knew it could take days to finish. You were all very competitive, and none of you would go down without a fight. This is why, to finish faster, you decided to have a team game of monopoly.

On the day of, everyone had started going shopping for the concessions for the event. Trays of assorted cookies, hors-doeuvres, sandwich platters, as well as multiple different fruit juices were bought and set on a foldable table in the game room.

As you were setting and arranging everything on the table, your wonderful boyfriend came around to help you.

"Don't worry, love, I got it," you chuckled. "I am much capable of setting a party table on my own."

"C'mon, you make me feel like I'm not good enough to do simple things, babe," he laughed with you, though his words triggered something in your brain.

"Oh yeah?" you quipped. "These are some pictures from the last time you set the table for dinner…"

In the photo, the table linen was frowned up, the forks were out of place, some placements didn't even have certain utensils. The plates were pushed to the center, chairs closer to the edge than the food was.

"Oh..." he giggled lifelessly.

"Now you see why you don't use super speed to set up something like that?"

"I mean, I don't think it's the super speed, darling. I was simply being blinded by your beauty that day."

Your laugh thundered in the room. "Go away MG, I'm not letting you win today!"

"Aw dammit! Alright, love, I'll let you get back to your project," he stated before he walked out of the room.

--Meanwhile--

"Jo?"

"Yeah, Hope?"

The Saltzman twin had been brushing her hair in the mirror, getting ready for the game night later.

"You look gorgeous, so stop taking out every strand of your hair with this damn brush," Hope stated before yanking the brush out of the younger girls' hand.

Josie embraced Hope in a warm hug. "Thanks, Hope."

~-~-~

"Alright, everyone. Welcome to 'The Super Squad Bi-Weekly Game Night.' I'm your host, Y/N L/N, and you're watching Disney Channel." All of the friends burst out laughing. "Tough crowd, I see I see. Well, let's move on with the game, shall we?"

"First up introducing, He's the founder, he's the mediator, He is… MILTON GREASLEY!!"

They all clapped and cheered for MG before you moved on.

"Next up, She's the brain, she's the brawn. She is the tribrid, and she's got it going on, Hope Mikaelson!!"

Whoops and cheers echoed throughout the room.

You continued through all of your friends.

"The realistic, the cynic, the man with raps for days… Kaleb Hawkins!!"

"The sweet, the kind, but she can fuck up your mind, Josie Salvatore!!"

"She's sarcastic, totally bombastic, Lizzie Saltzman everybody!!"

"And ME! Could you tell I was trying to sound like those game show hosts everybody? No? Well, I was. Anyways young ones-" You wore a giant grin to emphasize the corniness of what you were saying before continuing.

"Alright, I'm dropping the act. It's too hard, jeez!" They all laughed at your antics. "I hope you guys are laughing with me and not at me."

You explained the rules for the game of teams.

“Here’s the way it goes, each player has the same amount of money they would have in a regular game of monopoly. However, every team only has one token, teams must make agreements on all purchases, trades, and decisions. Teams must take turns rolling the dice, and one team member must always be present at the board.”

“Alright.”

“Sounds easy”

“Let’s play!”

You stared at them dumbfounded. “I memorized and recited all that without stumbling on my words, and all I get is ‘sounds easy’?”

MG stood to comfort you.

“It’s alright, love,” he said, rubbing your shoulders lightly before pulling away. You scoffed.

“Alright then, let’s play. In this hat, I have slips of paper with all of your names, but first, in this bucket are sticks with numbers that will determine the order of selection. Step forward.”

They all stepped forward and grasped the popsicle sticks prior to stepping away from the bucket.

"Who has number 1?"

"Oh, I do!" Lizzie stepped forward and drew a slip of paper from the hat.

"Kaleb"

She and Kaleb sat back down at the table.

"Number 2?"

Hope stepped forward.

"MG"

They also went to go sit down beside Lizzie and Kaleb.

"That leaves me and you, Jo," you stated happily. Jo and yourself had one of the best team duos. In school, you two would be partnered up for projects often. With that experience of communication, you were sure to win.

You joined the rest of your friends at the table. Lizzie and Kaleb named their team, Team Siphon Vamp. Hope and MG had been Team 3 in 2, and you and Josie were the 'Twitches from two different misuses.'

"Alright, before the token selection, I must announce the prize of the game.

"The winners of the game will receive a dish duty pass for the rest of the week." Cheers louder than before erupted in the room.

"Lettuce commence!" The silence in the room was lethally quiet, and you could quite literally hear crickets. "Get it? Because lettuce sounds like let us?"

"It's ok, babe, let's just play," MG said before pulling you down. You grumped before deciding with Josie on the Penguin. Hope and MG had picked the dog, and Lizzie and Kaleb had chosen the dinosaur.

You, acting as the banker, dished out the money to all the players, and you commenced the game.

Lizzie and Kaleb went first. Lizzie rolled the dice, rolled 7, and landed on a chance card, which told her to advance to the nearest railroad, and they bought it. Hope and MG went next.

MG rolled a 5 and landed directly on Team Siphon Vamp's freshly purchased railroad, M100 out of their pocket already.

"Ooooh… MG…. Honey, you're losing money faster than you did when that PS5 came out, babe."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, ok! I'm still gonna kick your ass!"

You were taunting him. "You sure about that, love?"

"Yep!"

"You didn't even try to "kick my ass" last night, darling," you smirked.

Oohs erupted from your friends, and it was evident you knocked his ego down a peg.

At last, it was your team's turn. You and Josie each took one die in your hands and rolled it. You had landed a 6 and a 4, which landed you a visit to jail.

"Look who's losing now! You're literally in jail, babe," Hope teased Josie.

"Oh, whatever. Focus more on your lives-"

"-And less on ours!" your duo quipped.

Lizzie protested to this. "Hey hey hey!! That is my twin! Only I get to finish her sentences!"

You all laughed at this but continued your game.

Almost 15 rounds later, and everyone had a fair standing in the game.

Team Siphon Vamp had had 2 monopolies, on the railroads and on the pink properties.

Hope and MG had 3 already, the dark blue properties, the brown, and utilities. They also had 2 greens cards, the other being in the hands of you and Josie, as well as 1 red card that was being aimed for by you and Josie, who had the other 2 properties.

You guys also had monopolies on the yellow and orange properties. If you got the red card of Kentucky Avenue, you would be unstoppable.

"Baby," you called out.

"Yes, love?"

"I'll give you the other green for the red," you and Josie smiled.

"That's not fair babe, you'll own the corner," he protested.

"But the green is worth more. Please?" you pleaded, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Before he could utter another word, Josie spoke.

"We'll give you M100, and your first landing on any one of our properties will be free of rent."

Hope spoke up. "Sounds good to me!"

"Hell no! You're gonna have to do something way better than that before you fool this genius."

You whined.

"Fine, I'll give you one of my signatures back walks," you leveraged, knowing full well he couldn't resist. "C'mon, baby, I know how much your back has been hurting."

He agreed reluctantly. "Fine, but it better be worth it!"

Team Twitches cheered.

"Wait, what about us! We'll be demolished, you selfish weirdos." This was true. Lizzie and Kaleb were low on cash, they had rushed too fast to place houses, and now they were paying the price.

"Tough luck!" Hope and Josie chorused.

Soon, it had been as you all thought. Kaleb and Lizzie were in debt to Hope and MG. They had landed on Boardwalk Avenue, and it had 3 hotels on it, so they owed them M6000, M6000 they did not have.

Soon, they ended up relinquishing all their properties back to the bank for auction to pay off Hope and MG, gave them the rest of their money, and had to leave the game.

With 2 full monopolies from Lizzie and Kaleb, along with the last green property they needed, they had successfully turned the game around. Now it was Josie and you who were losing.

You all decided at this point to split the teams. Each team dividing both the cash and the monopolies equally, and two more pieces were added to the board, on the same spots as their former teammates, and you resumed.

Josie was soon knocked out due to MG within 5 rounds, and Hope was quick to crumble under your might, two turn-loops after that. They joined Lizzie and Kaleb at the pool table. They were now drinking beers since they no longer needed to be sober.

Soon it was just you and MG left in the game.

MG leaned forward closer to you while you were deciding what to do with your turn.

"You know what you could do, darling?" He whispered provocatively in your ear. "Give in."

You pushed him away. You were not going to lose to MG and his self-righteous ego that night.

"Shut up."

"Give in, baby. I know you want to."

"Shut up, Milton."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!" He yelled. "No need to get hostile!"

You decided you hadn't wanted to place any more houses, well, you couldn't at the moment. You rolled the dice but were in for a bitter-sweet realization.

You had been ready to pay an M100 luxury tax fee before you realized you landed on Boardwalk, one of the monopolies Hope had let MG keep in the split. MG had only since put 2 more hotels on it, and the price was now M10,000

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!"

Soon, your friends rushed over to where you two sat and began cackling, all except Josie, who was still hoping her former teammate would avenge her.

"Babe.."

You began selling your hotels and houses back to the bank, but it still wasn't enough. You sold your properties and gave the rest of your money to MG, but you still owed a few hundred Monopoly dollars.

"Fuck!"

He kissed your cheek, much to your dismay, and happily accepted his victory.

~-~-~

It had been almost 2 weeks, and you were still giving MG the silent treatment. He had been gloating about his win for the entire night, and you were livid.

You knew he didn't deserve it, but you didn't think you deserved to lose either.

You were staring at the ceiling. You had just woken up, and MG wasn't beside you.

You had hated those moments. No matter how mad you were at MG, you hated when you woke up, and he wasn't beside you.

After all, you guys had been through so much, and you were always worried that he would die abruptly and leave you. Even after the threat was over, you still felt this way.

After a few minutes, MG had come into the room, Kaleb at his side. Kaleb looked bored, and his face said all you needed to know... he didn't want to be there.

He was carrying a pot of pink hydrangeas in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. He placed both on the nightstand beside you, disappearing for a short while, before coming back with a giant fruit bouquet in his hands. He set it on the nightstand as well before exiting the room and closing the door.

MG had carried a platter of all your favorite foods. Eggs, just the way you liked them, pancakes, hash browns, and your favorite flavor of yogurt. He had also gone ahead and made a smoothie bowl with your favorite fruits. Berries and banana chips littered the surface of it.

He placed the platter on the portable desk you had in your room for breakfast and bed and set it down, just above your lap. He then went to the mini-fridge in your room and got all the ingredients he needed to make your coffee just the way you liked it as well as a glass to pour it in.

"I'm sorry for bragging," he apologized. "I know how much you like to win, and it was very insensitive of me." He looked like he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the reason he was apologizing for was. You turned your eyes away from him and the delicious breakfast he made.

"But baby, I miss you."

He walked over to you. "Please talk to me!"

He started trailing kisses on your forehead, down to your neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth inside, something you had taught him. He knew exactly how to make you forgive him, and he was using every technique he had learned over the years.

"Please?" He whined, and you could see his pouty eyes without looking.

He sucked on your collarbone for a while and left a dark mark. Then he moved to the sensitive spot under your ear.

You moaned slightly, but he could hear it, even without his vampire hearing.

He pulled away, causing you to frown and whine.

"MG…" you complained. "That's not fair."

"So you're talking to me now?"

You looked away, you had slipped up, but you told yourself that would be the last time.

You simply ignored him and started to eat your breakfast.

He walked back towards you and began nibbling on your ear. You threw your head back in pleasure.

"Look at me, darling."

He reached his nimble fingers out to your face and trapped your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I said I'm sorry, and I really, really miss my girlfriend. I made you a nice breakfast, and I've let you pick the movie every night since monopoly. What more do you want?"

You moved the tray of food to the side of you and stared at him indignantly.

"I wanted my boyfriend to not be an egotistical asshole. I thought I was dating MG the vampire, not Jed the werewolf."

"I'm sorry... What can I do to make it up to you, love?"

"Let me out of that back walk favor?"

He scrunched up his face in horror. "That was part of our deal."

"Technically, you're not even supposed to be able to make outside game deals in monopoly, so you could let me out if you wanted to."

"Fine."

"Yay! Those hurt. They're so energy draining."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, you can," you smiled.

#milton greasley #legacies #the vampire diaries #the originals #mg x reader #milton greasley x you #mg angst #mg fluff #mg smut #the vampire diaries imagines #the originals imagine

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buck-nialled · 3 years

Text

Undertow- S. Mendes (I)

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CH I: Catastrophe at the Cove

The ceaseless crashes of Hawaii’s waves and the drowned cheering coming from shore were all white noise to Shawn now. He was enraptured in the scratchy velcro lassoing his ankle. The sea breeze made his nostrils burn with great intensity, and complemented by the golden rays beaming down onto his body—slathered in SPF 50 and donning a wetsuit—he felt tears begin stinging his eyes as they balanced on the brim of his eyelids. It was like his body was challenging him who could stay upright longer on this never-ending trapeze act: the threatened onslaught of tears or his body on the gun.

With his eyes transfixed on the approaching curl of water, his body flipped in autopilot as he adjusted his legs and shifted the full weight of his trunk. The audience’s murmured words of fascination morphed rapidly to cheers as he climbed the steep undulate, pivoting his body before taking the drastic plunge down through the foam. Keeping his stare trained on the blue surface, Shawn can vaguely understand the announcer’s voice through the speakers on the sand. But he knows exactly what tricks have been screamed into the microphone for the last seven minutes while he has been doing them. Every few seconds his feet remained planted to the board, Shawn’s eyes would flicker over to the other competition around him. He sensed their reciprocated side-eyes as well but maintained his equilibrium.

“Getting nervous, Mendes? It hasn’t even been ten minutes!” Wesley taunted, catching waves lateral to Shawn. The boy only grumbled to himself, biting his lip to net all of the swears he wanted to throw back at his competitor. Wesley was Shawn’s largest adversary on the sea. People on the shore who barely know the two boys’ names could perceive the tension between them. He and Shawn were no strangers to the long-lasting feud either. They would alternate between who came out victorious or runner-up in every contest they shared (which was all of them). But Shawn was determined to be unpredictable this year. While his exterior goal to take home a cash prize and trophy were transparent, the inward objective to knock Wesley’s ego and stature on the island down a few pegs, he was determined to keep concealed.

Somehow Wesley wriggled out of his parents' demands to attend university in exchange for a full-time lifeguard job. Shawn felt envy still crawl inside of him each time he looked up from the sand sticking to his toes to see the man waving down at Shawn in his red-painted throne with a smirk. And the green that would cloak Shawn’s cheeks when he passed by could not be more apparent. He would do anything to just sit by the sea and bask in Hawaii’s warmth, day in and day out with no woes about when his next biology assignment on the island’s flora would be due. Nobody saw through the facade Wesley was so keen in dressing himself up in; a pair of designer sunglasses, overpriced board to add to his collection of six, and swim trunks hung all too low on his hips, whenever Shawn caught a glimpse of the man’s v-line unwillingly he experienced a heightened level of nausea.

A recognizable splash and groan were heard, alerting Shawn that yet another contestant had wiped out. Whispered roars sounded from the huddle of bodies on the sand, both for the fallen surfer and encouragement for Shawn and Wesley.

Shawn’s breathing began to pick up as his eyes zoned in on nearby terrain. The rock jutted out of the water and stood tall, the lip of it glaring back at Shawn as he maneuvered his body to perform a cutback to save time. The Cove was a hazardous area to be approaching, surfer, or not. Habitants of the island always spoke of the jagged processes lining the interior and hostile, branching coral that leave lacerations on any venturer’s foot if they dare get sucked into the small bay. Especially at high tide is when most warn beach-goers to keep a safe distance as drowning is a likely possibility when strong currents are present.

Shawn proceeds to twist his body and bend lower to maintain his well-built momentum. Upon exhibiting the cutback with appraised technique, the announcer’s voice begins narrating his moves once more. Halfway through his announcement and Shawn’s introduction to a new wave, the deep voice grows in awe by a new sight. Wesley, who was now feet ahead of Shawn and to his right, slightly closer to shore lurches his body into the air, grasping his board along as he displays a perfect aerial for the crowd's eyes. Gasps leave everyone's lips as the announcer continues, and Shawn’s hopes of winning are drastically deflating when Wesley’s board cuts into the water and keeps gliding without fail.

“Where’d he learn to do that?” Shawn whispers, before snapping his head back and eliciting a yelp. The nose of his board is halted by the stone protruding from the blue and the man finds himself being catapulted further into the water and off of his board seconds later. Exclamations of terror coming from the audience turned muffled as the waves engulfed Shawn’s frame and the current pulled him under alongside his surfboard.

Y/N grumbled and flipped her body on one of the flat rocks located inside of the small cave as another rambunctious applause woke her. She curled her legs upward to her chest and trembled with each splash of water that crashed onto the rock and kept the flowing, white dress damp on her body.

These surf competitions happened way too often in her opinion. It felt like there was a new kind of surfing event every two weeks, breaking the usual quiet of the cove she liked to hang out in. It was nice to watch the competitions every once in a while, but on days like these, she wished she could sleep without the noise.

She let out a groan as she sat up, rubbing her hands over her eyes and stretching her legs. She could see some of the surfers from where she sat, making a face when she saw one fall off his board. His face popped out of the water soon after, eyes in the direction of the cove. Y/N slinked into the shadows, trying to keep herself concealed. People seeing her would lead to questions.

Who are you?

Why are you in here instead of shore?

What are you, a mermaid, or something?

The last one would be a joke to the person asking, but not to Y/N.

She scooted over to a corner located a little further back, hoping to get a better view of what was going on. Even if she was annoyed with them, watching the events brought some excitement to what was usually a fairly boring day.

There were only a few people left, all of them seeming to be unbothered by the other contestant going down. She wondered how they did it sometimes: ignoring all the cheers and splashes while executing insane tricks and keeping their balance. She had to admit, it was a little insane.

A peculiar stream of water captured her stare, and she immediately felt her muscles clench up. Slowly, she reached beside her to clutch the abandoned fishing knife she uncovered from the seafloor on one of her many late-night swims. The stream jetted straight towards her, encouraging her to lift her knife higher, and steady her position. By the sight of the rubbery gray bottlenose exiting the depths, she relaxed immediately and sent a look of disdain to the dorsal-finned creature.

“Douglas, what are you doing here?” She receives the usual squeak in reply, the young bottlenose sparing her a sheepish smile.

“You can’t be following me, they’re probably still looking for me.” Y/N grumbled, rolling her eyes and splaying out across the hard surface. Douglas responds with a series of clicks the girl translated within a matter of seconds. Her head turned to face the bottlenose, looking less than amused by the information.

“Well tell my dad that he can take his little search team and--” A pained groan perks her ears up. She sat up on the platform and slowly scooted to the ledge, leaning over to see a man being sucked in her direction by the current.

“Someone’s coming. Go!” She demands in a hiss to Douglas, who chirps in protest.

“No, I don’t think Harry Styles filmed Watermelon Sugar here.” She says. Another series of clicks sounds before she rushes, “yes, I’ll get you his autograph if I see him. Promise, now shoo!” She waves off the bottlenose, who happily swims away with a future gift on his mind. Another wail, now sounding closer in proximity, has Y/N shifting further into the platform’s corner in hopes the shadowy inlet would hide her well enough for the disoriented-sounding human.

She hesitated before peeking her head out to see who the noises were coming from.

What if it’s a trick?

Her father seemed very adamant about finding her. Y/N got news from Douglas within the first two days she ran away that he sent a search party after her. She told the dolphin multiple times that he needed to stop following her around in case someone used him to find her, but he refused to leave her alone. He scared her every time he came up to talk, but she couldn’t deny that it was nice to have someone to talk to every so often.

She was well aware of the lengths her father would go to find her. It wasn’t like he was the worried father whose daughter disappeared out of the blue. She hadn’t left on good terms and she knew he was only going after her to get his revenge for the humiliation she was sure to have caused.

Another groan and the splashing of water broke Y/N out of her thoughts. She gripped her knife tighter. Her head slipped out ever so slightly around the corner, eyes transfixing on the large figure that was a little too close for comfort.

The wetsuit and surfboard floating behind him told you that he was likely one of the people from the competition. He was laying in the shallow water, brown curls soaked as he struggled to get himself upright. He eventually got himself into a sitting position on a nearby rock, pulling his foot up to examine the bottom of it. Y/N could see the red gashes from where she stood, feeling sorry for the poor surfer. He was struggling to get the board close to him so he could untie it from his other ankle. He wasn’t trying for long, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair.

He was just going to have to wait for the rescue team. That would probably take a while, considering how dangerous the area was. His eyes scanned the area around him. Y/N threw herself against the stone wall when he looked at her, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. He didn’t see her, thankfully, and she contemplated whether or not she should help him.

On the one hand, he looked like he needed help. She could help him get his board off and get him out of the water so he wasn’t enduring the sun’s scorch while he waited for help.

On the other hand, part of her was still convinced this was a well-plotted plan to get her back to her father. Who knew who this boy was?

He put his head in his hands and she felt her heart drop. She didn’t even know him, yet some strange part of her was drawn to him. She slowly emerged from behind the wall, dipping her foot in the water. He lifted his face from his hands and she froze, worried he somehow managed to hear her. After a few seconds, he put his head back down and Y/N continued submerging herself.

She silently swam over to his board, seeing that it managed to get tangled in the coral. She dislodged the board and rope and kept the board over her head as she guided it over to the surfer. She stopped once he was close enough to grab the board, waiting for him to take hold before she could swim away. She rose out of the water up to her eyes when she didn’t feel a tug, pushing the board into his leg. His head shot up, glancing at the surfboard before he caught sight of her. He jumped, falling back onto his hands and feeling the jagged rock cut into them. Y/N immediately sunk back into the water, swimming as quickly as she could back to the cove.

Shawn stared at the board in shock. Was there just a girl there or did he hit his head that hard? He pulled the board all the way over to him and untied the rope from his ankle. It was a little red from being rubbed so much but it seemed fine otherwise.

He heard a soft clang from behind him, making him whip his head around to see what it was. He was surprised to see a girl in a white dress climbing onto the rock, whispering something to herself.

“Hey!” he shouted to her. The girl visibly froze, eyes wide and focused on the ground. She looked towards him and saw him staring right at her, causing her to grab something on the rock and dart into a part of the cave he couldn’t see.

“Wait, come back!” he called as if that alone was going to be enough to bring her back. “Please? I just need to thank you.”

Y/N placed her hand over her heart, praying that the boy was a harmless surfer. She could hardly make out his voice over the sound of her breathing. Her knuckles were white from gripping her knife so tightly and her eyes were screwed shut.

“If you don’t come out, I’m coming in.” He wasn’t exactly sure how effective that would be. It wasn’t meant to be a threat, even though it sounded exactly like one. He wasn’t even sure how he would get in there, considering how beat up his foot was.

Y/N weighed her options. Him coming in wasn’t playing out well in her head and her coming out meant she might be able to escape should the need arise. She took a deep breath, dropped her knife, and stepped out from behind the wall.

Shawn smiled at the sight of her. “Thanks.”

She shot him a thumbs-up, causing him to chuckle. “You got it.”

Her voice was angelic. He couldn’t point out what it was, but there was something that made him want to hear her talk every day for the rest of his life; all she had said was three words.

She felt uncomfortable under his stare, lowering her eyes to her feet and biting her lip.

“Can you come over here? I want to see my hero.” He cringed as the words came out of his mouth. He was well aware it sounded like a cheesy line from some romantic movie, but he wasn’t sure what else to say in the situation.

Y/N’s gut told her to step back into the cove; that allowing this person to see her, even more, wouldn’t end well. Despite all the warning bells going off in her head, she stepped out into the sunlight, now no more than five feet away from him.

Shawn wasn’t sure what to say. He was suddenly faced with the stranger who saved him and his brain was a jumbled mess.

She offered a small smile, swinging her foot to splash him with a few droplets of water. “You’re not here to kidnap me, right?”

“No?” he laughed. “What are you doing in the cove?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was exploring?”

“Since you phrased it like that, no. Not to mention that it’s pretty dangerous over here. I find it hard to believe that you willingly came over here without getting hurt.”

“Some of us are more athletically inclined than others.” She took a few steps closer to him, sitting down and pulling her knees into her chest.

“Fair enough.” He looked out across the ocean, seeing Wesley perform yet another perfect trick. It appeared that everyone had already forgotten about him. “I’m pretty sure no human being in their right mind would voluntarily come over here though.”

“And what makes you think you know me so well? You don’t even know my name.”

Shawn turned his gaze over to her, met with a suave look from the girl next to him. “Most people are concerned with not dying. You look adventurous but you also look like you value your life.” He shrugged. “What is your name?”

“Looks can be deceiving,” she pointed out. “But you make a fair point. The name’s Y/N.”

“Shawn.”

“Well, Shawn, you also look like you value your life. May I ask why you are sitting here on this rock with some serious gashes on your foot?” She let go of one of her legs, allowing it to stretch into the water.

“I was in a surfing competition ten minutes ago but a rock caught me off guard, launched me off my board, and the current pulled me in. Now, I get to watch my rival shred the rest of the competition.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Quite. Why are you here?”

The simple question caught her off guard. The bells went off again, telling her what a terrible idea this was. The fact that she was in the open world was enough. Was it worth it to expose herself? She knew deep down that it was a bad idea. She also had some deep feeling that she could trust Shawn.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“It can’t be that crazy.”

“You say that but-” Y/N was interrupted by a splash of water. She quickly noticed Douglas floating a short distance away. “Douglas, what are you doing here?” Douglas responded with a few clicks and Y/N’s face fell.

Shawn gave her a confused look. He could let the weird cove lurking slide, but talking to a dolphin? Something was up.

“What do you mean they’re almost here?” she asked, eyes frantically darting around as a feeling of dread took over. Douglas used his tail to motion at a raft that was slowly drifting towards the cove. Y/N’s eyes widened and she scrambled to her feet. It was too late, she knew. People had already seen her.

“What’s up? Are you a mermaid or something?” Shawn joked, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up at her.

“Uh…” The booming shouts begin growing in their volume. “No comment.” Y/N feels a tightening in her throat as she spares a glance down to her white, bedazzled gown. Anybody from below would recognize the fabric to be from royalty. Her eyes darted back to the bottlenose.

“Douglas, I need you to distract them.” With a few clicks, his rubbery head is submerged in the depths and he is hopping back towards the raft with a few splashes. Her eyes meet Shawn’s next, and he is staring at her with creased brows.

“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m gonna take this dress off and we’re gonna get back to shore.”

“Um, you-you don’t need to--” The man’s breath hitched seconds later when Y/N ignored his suggestions to remain clothed and began shedding herself of the gown. “Okay, and you’re doing it.” He spins around to shield his eyes from her stripping. All she donned at this point was a pair of damp panties and a makeshift band, constructed with pieces of weaved seaweed to wrap around her breasts.

“Look, Y/N, is it? I’m loving the determination and everything. But that current is too strong to push through. We’re just gonna have to--”

“Shawn, if you don’t get on this board I will not hesitate to leave you behind.” She heard him release a weak sigh and caught sight of his shoulders hunching. Shawn’s eyes peek at his still-injured foot and a sharp wince left him as he tried standing on it. Y/N bit her lip and observed the raft from the distance, finding Douglas’s nose trying to bounce it the opposite direction without being noticed by the confused men aboard.

Swiftly, Y/N clutched her blade and ran to the edge of the cove, submerged herself in the blue, eyes frantically searching for seaweed. Shawn’s hazardous shouts from above to watch for the coral made her roll her eyes. Amateur, she thinks to herself, as her eyes landed on the swaying green which was a similar color to the strands lining her breasts. She brings the knife to the plant and slices a strand clean from its place in the ground.

Shawn yelps as she reappears in front of him, bobbing up and down in the shallow waters. She holds up the seaweed with a proud smile, before sparing a glance at his left sole. The man clenched his teeth and elicited a loud hiss when Y/N cupped a small amount of saltwater in her hands to cleanse his wounded flesh. Afterward, she securely wrapped the greenery around the gashes, tying it in a secure knot at the top of his foot.

“Shawn,” his eyes opened and stayed focused on hers, “we need to go. Now.” He decided to leave questions for later and wasted no time clamoring onto his board. Y/N situated herself behind him, and Shawn could not choke down his snickers when she advised him to hold on tight.

“Please, honey, this isn’t my first time riding one of these.”

“It sure seemed like it ten minutes ago.” She grumbled, meeting Douglas’s eyes as his head popped out from the water. She sent him a small nod, a cue for the dolphin to halt his diversion of the raft while her hand grazed the top of the water.

“Ready?” Albeit Shawn could not see her lifted brow, the questioning lilt in her voice was enough for his forehead to wrinkle in puzzlement once more.

“Ready for wha--” A loud yell cut off his unfinished question, as Y/N worked the currents silently to surge the two back to the shoreline.

“Hey, Wes!” Shawn shouted while zooming past his competitor—already declared victor—yet wanting to show off. Water gushes from behind him and Y/N, earning a confused stare from Wesley as he snaps his neck to earn a better look at the woman’s backside.

“Huh?” Wesley exclaims before the wave he was targeting moments before turned against him and resulted in his unfortunate wipeout. As they neared the water’s edge, Y/N slowed the waves’ motions and, in turn, the board’s speed. Celebratory cheers rang about at the sight of Shawn’s reappearance but soon died down from the sight of the foreign face sitting behind him. Scattered whispers drifted through the crowd, eyes scanning over Y/N’s figure in question.

Shawn was the first to step off the board with a groan and take a few steps closer to the sand. Before he treads completely onto the grainy terrain, he held an outstretched hand for Y/N, who was still sitting on the board. Her wrinkled palm embraced Shawn’s as she delivered him a gracious smile. The two continued their departure from the waters together, Y/N dragging the surfboard behind her by its string. When their feet planted themselves on the warm sand, Shawn was immediately met with a hug from another man donning swim trunks and Y/N with a towel.

“Here you are, dear.” One of the islanders greeted with a kind smile. Y/N inhaled sharply and held the dagger tightly in her grip, but made no further moves. There were far too many witnesses for such a casualty to occur, and even if the woman’s intentions were not out of malice, Y/N was desperate for a new wardrobe that excluded her drowned white wedding gown. After cloaking herself with the soft fabric and sparing the samaritan a gracious smile, her eyes drifted over to Shawn. He broke away from the hug and allowed his eyes to meet Y/N’s apprehensive ones. Clearly, a crowd of people this large was something foreign to her. He stepped closer to her and placed a comforting hand against the towel shielding her back and began to speak.

“Everybody, this is Y/N. I found her when I landed in the cove…” Slowly, Shawn’s eyes moved down to his bandaged foot. Many eyed followed, gazing down wondrously at the makeshift aid before following the man’s stare back up to Y/N. “She saved my life.” He announced with a proud smile. More cheers rang out from the audience. Y/N only spared a shy smile at the praises, before the two survivors were escorted to professional medical attention.

Look out for the next part of Undertow coming 1/29/2021!

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step-on-me-khun · 3 years

Note

Hello there D! I hope my requests don't bore you hehe ❤️ I hope you're doing well. Can I request a nsfw bam x fem reader with mommy kink setting? Like, Bam welcomes the reader home from work wearing a cute apron, calling her mommy and then let himself be dominated by the mommy reader as she treats him like a good boy he is? ❤️ oKAY THIS IS VERY RANDOM HAHA if you have any questions just inbox me ❤️ thank you hehe!

Hello ❤️ None of your requests bore me

And I can do this for you and I'm trying to complete it by a certain date too

I also worry that this may be either too much or not enough 😅

Who wouldn't want a guy like Bam? He was kind, sweet and caring, always considering your feelings first before doing anything with you. And that's what made you fall further in love with him. He was such a precious soul, and you would be a complete mess without his presence.

But Bam wasn't overly dominant with you. Even when you mention it, he tells you how much you mean to him and that if he ever hurt you, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for it.

Any idea you had, even something small, you had to give it a lot of thought. Would Bam be alright with it? And how would he react to it be suggested?

Bam was a switch at the best of times, happily choosing to do whatever you wanted to do as long as you were safe and happy.

He just wanted to be a little different. There was something he wanted to try, to be brave and do something new that he hadn't done before.

The click of the door was the one thing that alerted Bam that you were back. His gold eyes fixed on your form as you strolled through the door, usually stressed or tired. That's why he had an idea.

Now, when Bam was in the mood, he could be rough with you. Not in the way that he would leave marks on you, but he was still rough. But it never felt enough.

You, on the other hand, had pegged Bam before, and most of the time, you tried to match his movements on you. Sometimes though, you might've got a little too eager and went overboard with it.

Bam sat patiently on the end of the bed, focusing on staying calm as small waves of nervousness washed through him.

The trust between the two of you was solid and adorable. If there weren't any trust, then Bam wouldn't have thought about doing all this.

"Bam," your voice says, getting louder as you got closer to your room, "where are you?"

The door to the bedroom opens slowly. Before you enter the room, Bam stands up. The only thing he was wearing was an apron, nothing else. Hopefully, you weren't in too bad of a mood.

You walk into the room, greeted by Bam and his barely clothed form standing in front of the bed. Bam's face was red, and his gold eyes turned away from you as you approached him.

Shock ran through you, this was one thing you weren't expecting, but you weren't complaining at all. Eventually, the feeling vanished, leaving you feeling a little mischievous.

"Is there any reason why you decided to dress like this?" You ask playfully, smirking as you walk in front of Bam. Your hand move to cup Bam's chin, tilting his head to look you in the eye.

"I-I just wanted to do this for you," Bam says, stuttering a little from his nervousness. "You know how much I love and adore you,"

"I know you do," you say, cupping Bam's face with your hands. You inch closer to Bam, rubbing your nose on his, making him a little more comfortable. A soft exhale leaves his mouth as you continue to rub your nose against his. "Are you going to be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, mommy," Bam responds. Realising what he's done, he tenses up.

It was a surprise, but it didn't stop you from being closer to him. Your eyes widened for few seconds, a tingle of excitement shot through you. Mommy, you liked it. You wanted him to call you it, to beg and constantly tell you how good you made him feel. The thought of it all got you hot and bothered.

Without wasting any more time, you move your hands to Bam's chest and push him on the bed.

Bam's eyes remain on you as he fell onto the soft fabric of the blanket, waiting for you to do what you wanted.

You moved to the bedside table, removing something and hiding behind your back. But Bam knew what it was and would be patient with you until you decided to use it.

Your feet quickly rushed back over to the end of the bed, kneeling on the ground in between Bam's powerful legs. You could see he was shaky. Even if it was only a little, you could see it. He was so cute like this, all red and needy, waiting for you to do anything.

Bam closes his eyes as he waited, the sound of you removing your clothes and the shaky breaths he made being the only things he could hear.

"Would you like me to take care of you, Bam?" You ask, trying to look cute for him.

"Yes, please," Bam replies.

"Hmm?"

"Sorry. Yes, please, mommy,"

You giggle at his words. They made you all giddy and happy.

"I'm going to remove this for now," you announce, reaching behind Bam to untie the apron around his waist, "it'll get in the way, and we don't want it to get in the way now, do we?"

The way you spoke and how you moved and did everything was intentional, and Bam knew it and was just as excited as you, but some nervousness was still hiding inside him.

You place a kiss on the tip of his length, looking up at him as you did. His face glowed as your soft hands wormed their way onto him.

Bam was a sweetheart and would never flip a situation unless you were both feeling playful enough, or he was serious and wanted to make sure you knew it.

Your mouth continues to leave a trail of kisses down his dick, making sure you never left a single inch of him. He was so good to you, in his way, and you were doing what you, and him, wanted.

After reaching the base of his length, you trailed back up, peppering more and more kisses on him. After you get to his tip again, your mouth sucks on it, swirling your tongue around him.

Desperate groans left Bam's mouth as your tongue slid across him, even reaching his slit and toying with it, tasting the precum that you had abandoned before.

"You've been so good and patient, Bam. Do you want mommy to continue?" You tease as you remove your mouth from him.

"I do want you to continue," he responds. Your eyes glare at him for a second before realising once again what he had missed, "please, mommy,"

You smile sweetly at him, "that's better,"

The bed shifts as the two of you move onto the bed closer to the headboard. Bam's brown hair stuck to his face, the sweat helping it stay in place.

Your hands had picked up the strap-on from earlier, and you were currently putting it on.

A shiver ran down Bam's spine as he watched you. His beautiful angel, treating him like an angel. Well, kind of. Bam would always praise anything and everything about you.

The few minutes were just about bearable to him. Every single movement you made, Bam watched closely. Your hands reached for the lube, spreading it generously over the strap-on.

Then you move over to Bam, leaning over him.

"I love you so much," you say quickly, planting soft kisses all over his face.

Bam didn't answer. You already knew that he felt the same way. The smile he gave you was enough to prove it.

You lined the tip up to Bam's entrance and thrust slowly inside him.

Bam throws his head back against the bed, gripping the blanket below him tightly, making his fists pale.

You continue slowly, making sure that you didn't hurt him. Bam wanted you to treat him well, and so did you. It would be bad for both of you if it went wrong now.

"You're doing so well," you say, lifting one of his legs over your shoulder.

Not like you were expecting anything out of Bam's mouth at the moment. You were more interested in how he felt, and, by the look on his face, how he was reacting to your movements, he looked like he was enjoying himself. Oh, how good it would feel to you to hear him beg, calling you mommy and have him all whiney just for you to do anything to him.

You were out of it, your head thinking up all kinds of situations now that Bam had called you mommy.

"Oh, fuck. You're making me feel so good, mommy," Bam groans, snapping you out of your lewd thoughts.

You had unintentionally sped up. It must've been the reason Bam suddenly became more vocal.

It was boosting your ego a little. You were making Bam feel good, and you could see it, too.

While your hips continued to snap into Bam, causing the strap-on to reach further inside him, your hand reached over to his length and started playing with his head again.

The sight of Bam's face contorting in front of you was quite a sight. It was as if he was trying to keep himself grounded while you were thrusting quickly inside him like this.

Then his arms covered his eyes, and his back arches up. You must've hit his prostate.

All the squirming Bam was doing, the small groans that came out his mouth, and the occasional mommy, it was just so damn precious to you. It was something you wanted to try again.

Bam, the kindest person you knew, looking at you with his eyes the way they were, it was almost too much to you.

"Are you getting close, my cute boy?" You ask.

"Yes. Yes, mommy," Bam responds, his eyes closed under his arms.

Your fingers rubbed all over the head of his dick, helping him to reach his climax.

The breaths that escape Bam's mouth become shakier, his groans and whines growing and become just a little louder. He was so damn close. It was like he was losing his mind, and it was you who made him like this.

Your hand released his length, letting it fall onto his stomach as he came. His sticky liquid spurted into his skin, your speed decreasing now that he had reached his end.

Both of you were panting messes. Your bodies were sweaty and heaving. It wasn't like you had gone too easy on Bam. But you hadn't gone rough on him, either. You couldn't help but wonder if you had left him satisfied.

"Did that feel good, sweety?" You ask, acting as playful as you did before.

Bam laughs a little, watching you again as you remove the strap-on. "Yes, mommy," Bam says sweetly, smiling at you, "and you always will do,"

That was something that he let you know anyway. It was these sweet moments of honesty that meant the most. If you didn't have them, then there would be no relationship. You adored Bam in these moments.

taglist

@unexceptional-h @aoi-turtle

#tower of god #tower of god baam #baam x reader #tog baam #25th baam #twenty fifth baam

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mosh-4 · 4 years

Text

“we’re really funny”

harry styles imagine

“we’re really funny” - your cousin wants to make a tiktok with your husband

“please.”

“ha ha, no.” Harry sassed back at your cousin. he pulled you into his side as you both lounged on your aunt’s couch.

your family was having a summer barbecue to celebrate your grandpa’s 90th birthday. you and Harry had flown into your hometown to spend the week with your family. you hadn’t seen them much since you two had gotten married 8 months ago. your cousin spent the whole week practically glued to your side. you missed her. you two were as close as sisters, and you were used to talking almost everyday.

“please make a tiktok with me,” she begged pulling you out of your thoughts. your cousin was sitting on the floor in front of the couch you occupied. she had her phone propped up on the centerpiece of the coffee table.

“hmmm,” your husband hummed. “no.”

this had been going on for almost an hour. she would give up for a few minutes before trying again. Harry wasn’t annoyed by her. Harry and your cousin had an interesting relationship. she was always someone who could knock him down a peg and could get him out of his ego. she didn’t treat him like he was a celebrity; she treated him like she treats her brothers.

Harry would normally be all over making a tiktok with her, but you both wanted to keep your relationship private from the world. the fans still don’t know that you exist and that you married THE HARRY STYLES, and you both wanted to keep it that way for awhile. he respected your wish for privacy just as you respected his. Harry didn’t want the world to see him in a tiktok with your cousin and risk the world finding out about your relationship.

“but, i found the perfect sound to make one to,” your cousin pouted. “please, it’s really funny.”

“what is it?” you finally speak up. you and your cousin sent each other a bunch of tiktoks. you loved scrolling through the app. some of them were really creative and funny.

“it’s this one.” she showed you her phone playing a video of a younger Harry and Niall talking in an interview. (here’s the tiktok)

“we’re really funny.”

“are we?”

“aren’t we? we, the laughs we have.”

“between me and you.”

“we have some laughs.”

“pranks, laughs,” then Niall lets out an exaggerated gasp.

you laugh at the video while Harry just smiles at his younger self. you put your hand on his chest.

“haz, you should do it. it would be funny,” you tell him.

“c’mmmmmooonnn,” you cousin begs. “do it.”

“you sure?” he says quietly to you making sure that you were okay with him possibly outing your marriage.

“eh,” you shrug. “do it. she doesn’t have to post it.”

“very true. i won’t post it if you don’t want me to,” your cousin pipes up.

Harry lets out an over dramatic sigh. “okay, fine,” he says as he pulls himself up from his spot on the couch.

your cousin and him situated themselves on the floor with you barely seen in the background. your cousin does Niall’s part while Harry does his. they make overly dramatic facial expressions and finish the video in 2 takes; they had to stop in the first one because your cousin started laughing at Harry.

you watched the video together, and you can’t help but laugh. it was really good, and the over the top exaggeration of everything made it so much better.

“you should post it.”

your eyes grow wide as you look to your cousin who holds the same expression as you. you both turn your gaze to Harry.

“are- are you sure?” your cousin asks shocked.

harry looks to you gauging your response. he shrugs at you waiting for you to say something.

“are you okay with that?” he asks you.

“i mean- yeah. i think it’s great. i’m okay with it,” you respond nodding your head.

with his eyes still locked with yours, “post it,” he said.

your cousin looks between the both of you. she shrugs.

“m’kay,” she said looking back to her phone. “posted.”

later that night, the tiktok was trending over twitter, Instagram, and tiktok. it was everywhere. some people thought it was hilarious. others were more focused on you and your cousin trying to find out who you were to Harry.

Harry came out of the bathroom in his pajamas with a towel in his hand drying his hair. you laid in bed scrolling through all of the tweets about the tiktok.

“mm, whacha doin?” your husband muttered flopping down next to you on top of the comforter on your bed.

“you and (y/c/n) are trending on twitter,” you muttered leaning your phone over to show him some of the tweets.

“hmmm, interesting,” he said reaching over to his nightstand to grab his phone.

“yeah, (y/c/n) is freaking out. her account gained so many followers.” you went back to scrolling through the tweets.

Harry began to scroll through his twitter reading some of the tweets. he began to draft a new tweet.

“i tagged you in a tweet,” he said looking up from his phone.

“okay,” you said opening your mentions before laughing. you couldn’t help but notice how it gained so many retweets so quickly.

“you had to stir the pot?”

“of course,” he said leaning over to you. “your husband is tiktok famous.”

you both laugh together before he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

your marriage was on the verge of being outed all because of a tiktok.

part 2

hope you enjoyed :) - mosh

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harrystyles #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #imagines

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dirt-cup-draco · 4 years

Text

Cedric x Reader- Dont Leaf Me Alone

hey! may i request something with cedric? a slytherin reader, where he keeps asking them on a date and they're always saying no, and one day he asks them again and they yell at him and he starts crying. so then the readers like oh shit and realizes they like him A LOT and is holding cedric and saying sorry so many times? thank you and i've loved your previous cedric fics!

March~

You sat comfortably in the clock tower’s courtyard, the stone cool on your palm as you supported yourself. You were lounging, watching as people moved around, buzzing with life and smiling with friends. Your neutral expression soured as you saw a group of people in similar green robes, laughing and taking glances your way.

You could practically hear them making fun of you as they whispered to each other. The Slytherins you’d once called friends created an ice cold den of snakes as they gathered together and mocked you from a distance. Your boyfriend- your ex- you reminded yourself had his arm wrapped around your friend- that bitch- and smiled as he brushed his lips against her cheek.

It might have no disgusted you so much if they hadn’t been seeing each other while you’d been head over heels for the bastard. A sweet smile from your friend and you’d so blindly trusted the both of them. You knew better now.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the burn as you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care. It doesn’t matter. It’s been a month. I’m over it. You chanted to yourself as you pulled yourself to your feet. Your people-watching had been completely ruined by their presence as the ice coursed through your veins.

You were still in your sour mood as you tried to drown out the voices behind your back, looking to get anywhere else. It was then that a hufflepuff with a slim build, bright eyes and breeze swept hair approached you, a bundle of barely budding flowers and weeds in his hand.

“Y/N!” He grinned, long legs carrying him to you before you could turn around and escape in the other direction.

“Cedric,” You acknowledged with a tight smile. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Cedric, he was sweet. Or he seemed to be. You weren’t sure if it was all a facade, something used to keep his popularity afloat and the girls swooning. You refused to be one of them.

“Um-” Cedric stumbled over his words for a moment, your less than lackluster greeting tripping him up. He did his best to recover though as he took in your stiff form, your eyes glaring at his rugged bouquet. He hadn’t had much luck turning his quills into anything pretty so he had run out and picked whatever looked nice. He extended his arm. “If you were a flower, I’d pick you,”

Cedric was hoping for well anything really. What he got instead was an unimpressed appraisal of his poor pick up line, your eyebrows shooting to your hairline as if to say really? that was the best you could do? He grinned at you like he wasn’t sweating bullets right now and waited for you to take the flowers, say something, laugh for gods sake if nothing else!

“Flowers die when they’re picked Diggory, trying to say you want me dead?” You shot back and Cedric’s stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“N-No! I was trying to-” Cedric defended but you were already moving past him and when he got his bearings back you were gone.

What the hell just happened?

Cedric dropped his head into his hands, groaning as Ernie snickered into his hand.

“She really said that?” The underclassman continued to laugh softly, his own pride soaring as Cedric got knocked down a peg. “I can’t say I feel bad for you Ced- Y/N’s as bitchy as they get,”

Cedric’s head shot up as he sent Ernie a withering glare. “Say that about her again MacMillan and I’ll make sure you never say a god damn thing again,”

Ernie paled and Zacharias cut in. “He’s a prick maybe, Cedric, but he isnt wrong. Have you ever seen her smile? Or do anything with her face that wasn’t a scowl. I’ve only ever seen her happy with that douche she called a boyfriend and even he dumped her for being too icy- or so I’ve heard,”

Yes, he had. You’d lingered on the quidditch pitch even after your fellow Slytherins had filtered out and the Hufflepuffs got ready to practice for the rest of the morning. A single flower had been blooming, going unnoticed by Filch. It was rosy and bright- a sore thumb- on the otherwise monochromatic green of the field.

A relaxed, gorgeous, smile had slipped onto your features and Cedric had been lucky enough to catch it as he was the first to walk out. That smile had been haunting him for weeks now, playing in his dreams. He wouldn’t mind being the one to make you smile like that.

“You don’t know her, leave her alone,” Cedric grumbled to the two boys who were making his miserable day even worse. If he heard Ernie mutter “neither do you, you tosser” and Zach follow with “why even try? she doesn’t like anyone” he pretended not to notice.

You lay on your bed, staring at the canopy above you, eyes tracing the pattern and losing yourself in the monotony of it. You could pick apart the shapes that had been made into the fabric and create different ones. You snorted as you saw the face of a goat in the shadows of the fabric, as well as a cloud looking swirl and then in the wrinkles of the canopy there was something resembling a flower.

To anyone else these would be entirely different things- only your eyes saw the silly shapes in the negative space of the velvety canopy. You always knew what was on your mind- or the absence of anything on your mind- when you gazed up.

Flower. Cedric. Your conscience whispered at you and you squeezed your eyes shut tight like it would vanish that thought of him.

His flirting had been...endearing terrible. You barely knew him! Why was he talking to you? He probably just wanted to mess around, have another notch on his belt. Cedric isn’t your ex. He could be nice. The kinder, trusting part of you mentioned but you squashed her out. She got hurt too easily.

Sighing you grabbed your pillow and covered your face, groaning into the fabric. You were tired of people.

April~

Cedric had to try again apparently. You frowned when you saw him leaning against the wall, a daisy in his grasp as his eyes found you the second you walked past the doors.

“Not a daisy goes by that I don’t think about you,” He tried.

And failed.

You hardly even spared him a glance, blowing air out your nose in a scoff.

“Have you tried amnesia? I think it would help both of us,” Was all you had to say.

Cedric felt as droopy as the daisy that he tossed to the floor.

May~

There was one person who didn’t know how to leave you alone. The first time it had been cute like how giving your mom a macaroni necklace in elementary was cute.

Maybe it was cute because it was genuine. Shaking your head you removed that thought faster than you could blink. Cedric Diggory didn’t seem genuine. His smile was too honest and you feared the lies that could lie behind those pearly whites. His eyes were too pretty and you knew if you looked too long you would become lost, maybe to the point of no return. His voice was too comforting and you knew you’d believe everything he said if you were more naive.

You didn’t hate the boy by any means but you weren’t looking to make another mistake and you had had enough dating drama to last you a life time. You had sworn off dating teenagers who were just looking for fun and nothing else- it didn’t matter who got hurt in the process.

You weren’t wishing to be a part of Diggory’s process.

You thought the closer you got to the forbidden forest you got the further everyone else would be but Cedric still managed to find you as the sun started it’s descent in the sky. You had shed your robe, treating it as a blanket while you lounged in the evening warmth.

Summer was near, you could feel it. You could see it in the way the students tapped their feet during class, eyes darting to the windows as they dreamed to be out in the clear weather.

And now you could smell it. A floral fragrance enhanced by the heat drifted your way and when you tore your eyes from the ripples in the black lake where you had gathered pebbles to see how far you could toss them from your place in the grass. Maybe you should start calling Cedric pebble, with how far you keep tossing him away.

“Y/N-” Cedric smiled as he began his greeting, lips quirked up and expression completely open.

“Wait,” You interrupted with a heavy sigh. “Before you say anything can I ask why? Why do you keep doing this, bothering me? What has got you so incredibly fascinated with someone you don’t even know? We don’t speak, we don’t share classes, we don’t do anything and that’s how I like it. I don’t care about your fragile male ego, I don’t care that everyone here likes you. I. Dont. Care. So please, spare me for the first time in months and stop hitting on me,”

The words escaped before you could catch them and as you came back to yourself you moved your eyes from the spot just behind Cedric’s shoulder where you had been focused on to his face. You were expecting a smirk, something deflecting that you had torn him to shreds and that his pride was wounded.

It seemed in all reality, it wasn’t his pride that was wounded, but his feelings. Something surprising and sharped dug around in your gut as you watched Cedric stare at you with blank eyes, misted over- almost as if what you said had hurt him, the air punched from his lungs and his eyes watering. But that couldn’t be, he was just like your ex (probably), he didn’t care for you (did he?).

You only then noticed that he had a bunch of sunflowers in his shaking hands, tied together with a ribbon, a little card tied to them. It was a smart bouquet, pleasing to the eye.

“Um- I-” Cedric stumbled, sniffling as he blinked hard, a droplet falling past his eyelashes and splashing against his high cheekbones. He hastily swiped it away as his face colored in embarrassment. “Sorry then, for being a- for being a bother,” His response was canned, disconnected. It knocked your own air from your lungs but you couldn’t help but sink lower into the discomfort.

The sunflowers fell to the grass and Cedric nodded once, twice, taking a glance at you as you schooled your expression into something critical and cold. It was his turn to walk away, his heart thumping dully in his chest.

Cedric was long gone from sight when you gathered up the flowers, brushing the petals with your fingertips before you read the note tied against the stems.

“You make all my days sunny” Was scrawled messily but earnestly- like someone had tried to make all the letters neat and even but ended up failing- on the thick card stock and you tried swallowing the lump in your throat that began to form.

You’d made someone hurt like you had been hurt but you were starting to realize that it just made everything worse.

June~

School was coming to a close. You didn’t get any more visits from the Hufflepuff.

September~

You saw Cedric as he boarded the train. He’d taken one glance at you and then decided it was for the better.

October~

The leaves had turned brown weeks ago and you wondered if Cedric missed picking flowers. Maybe he was glad to have no reminder of you. You hoped so.

November~

You were wrong, wrong, wrong.

You didn’t hate people, you didn’t hate trusting, you didn’t hate Cedric. You hated that you had chosen to trust and you had been hurt by it. You hated that you had fallen for their lies and their fake smiles. You hated that you had given all you had and then you were left cold. You hated that you had hurt Cedric because you hadn’t known how to give kindness without fearing that it would be used against you.

Every time you passed by you saw his shoulders go tense, like you were a snake that was bearing its fangs right before striking. Guilt had been steadily pooling in your stomach for months and now it was starting to get suffocating.

Guilt and loneliness. You had come to look forward to the expected visits from Cedric the year previous, always with a different flower in hand and a new pickup line falling past his lips even when he’d seemed nervous. Now that he no longer came to see you, you missed it. You were the one to chase him off. You reminded yourself.

You were walking around aimlessly, sweater pulled tight around you as you took in how the flowers had long since wilted as the cold wind shocked them to the ground. Cedric wilted from dealing with your chilly attitude.

Shut up. You glared into the distance like you were glaring at your conscience.

Cedric was walking around too but he hadn’t expected to see you, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and muttering to yourself, eyes set forward in a dangerous glare. His heart constricted in the fear that you were glaring at him.

It didn’t seem like you knew he was less than three yards away from you. This ended when he stepped on a particularly crunchy pile of leaves and you startled like a deer in the headlights, looking even more startled when you realized who it was.

“Sorry, I’m leaving,” He said quickly but was stopped by an ice cold hand in his. How long had you been out here?

“No!” You demanded. “I mean... please wait?” Your grip loosened as you faltered. You had made a move, now Cedric got to decide if he answered or not.

Cedric wasn’t sure how to feel as you stopped him. You sounded softer than usual, the edge to your voice that you usually held with him now gone.

“Why?” He croaked, voice more gruff than he’d wanted it to be as his nerves caught up to him. “I’m sorry for whatever I did or if I made you uncomfortable but I won’t do it again. I got your message loud and clear, Y/N,”

“You didn’t do anything,” You explained and Cedric couldn’t help the confusion.

“So you hate me for absolutely no reason?” Cedric laughed breathlessly, in disbelief. You were a rose, but he hadn’t been prepared for the thorns. “Good to know, thank you so-”

“I don’t hate you!” You interrupted. “I-I messed up,”

You nervously twiddled your fingers, forcing yourself to continue looking Cedric in the eye. Maybe he would see something that kept him around long enough for you to apologize.

“That day in the courtyard, you caught me at a bad time-”

“And the other times after that?”

“I know you don’t owe me anything but please hear me out Cedric... I’m not asking for forgiveness but I do want to apologize and I want you to understand,”

Cedric sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose but your hope paid off. He could see the remorse swimming around and darkening your gaze. He wasn’t sure if the autumn air was bringing tears to your eyes or if it was your seemingly sudden guilt over how you’d treated him.

“That day, I watched while my ex and my old friends gathered in the courtyard and laughed at me, mocked me, just because they could. I’m a joke to them and have been ever since I found out he was cheating on me with my friend. To them I am the most pitiful person in school, worse than any gryffindor they might have a grudge against. They made me feel pitiful and then you were there being nice and I started to question your motives because I never question theirs and they used that to play me,”

Cedric’s wary gaze melted away to something closer to understanding and you breathed steadily. You were long since over your boyfriend and you had been healing but it still wasn’t easy to shake that mistrust you had programmed into yourself after all was said and done.

“You thought I was just another bad guy,” Cedric continued for you and you nodded. “Hence the whole ‘fragile male ego’ thing?” He guessed and you winced.

“I don’t know you, I don’t have a reason to trust you. But that being said, I was never given a reason to distrust you. I pegged you as something you weren’t.”

“And what am I?” Cedric asked as you grew stronger in your words, your bottom lip ceasing it’s quivering.

“Kind, above all. I don’t know who else would have kept trying after my blatant disregard for you... I was hurting so I took it out on you and I’ve had all these months to beat myself up for it. I guess what I’m saying is-” You shuffled around in your pocket, pulling out a wad of unique and multicolored leaves that you had found on the damp ground, the cold not having dried them out yet. “-I don’t want you to leaf me alone,”

You were waiting for Cedric to do anything, say anything. The silence ticked back as he stared at the leaves in your hands. His nose twitched and he took a surprised intake of a breath.

Then as he exhaled, his chest shook as he began to snicker. Two short bursts of unbelieving giggles before he was bursting into a more sturdy laughter. You felt small.

“I-I know it’s dumb, just know I’m sorry, yeah?” You muttered, trying to manage a smile before you turned to leave.

“Wait! Wait...” Cedric laughed softly but let it die out. “I’m sorry it’s just that was- that was sort of cute. I get why you did what you did, that doesn’t mean it hurts any less but I get it,”

“Y-you do?”

Cedric nodded, hand squeezing your shoulder. “Maybe we can start over?”

“God you’re such a hufflepuff,” You sniffled in shock. He wanted to start over? Of course he does, he isn’t your ex, he isn’t anybody but Cedric. Kind Cedric.

“God you’re such a slytherin,” Cedric poked back but his hand didn’t move from your shoulder and you appreciated it when he drew you into a hug. You squeezed him back tightly and he relaxed in your arms. He was happy to be hugging you because it felt right but also because you couldn’t see the way his eyes sparkled with unshed emotion.

The prettiest roses had the most thorns but he didn’t mind the cuts so long as you were there to bandage them back up.

#cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory #fluff #cedric x reader #cedric x slytherin!reader

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Pride and Fidget Spinners (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of the You’ll Never Shop Alone (YNSA) collaboration with @underthejoon and @suga-kookiemonster

Creative Content Contributor: @underthejoon, for this amazing banner

Rating: 18+

Warnings: oral (female receiving), dirty talk, big dick (it’s seokjin, duh), everyone in this fic is a brat, seokjin talks about fair lending

Genre: Rom-Com / Smut / Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 18,623

Summary: Seokjin has always prided himself on being the top mall kiosk salesman. His turf, the spot nearest to the fountain, is due to him being the undisputed best in the game. At least, until you arrive and throw his world into chaos.

[ cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

I GET KNOCKED DOWN, BUT I GET UP AGAIN

YOU ARE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN

I GET KNO –

SLAP. Seokjin’s hand finds the buzzer, tuning off his alarm to burrow further under the covers. Sunlight streams through the open windows, pricking the back of his eyelids but Seokjin refuses to look. He can sleep for five more minutes. Five more minutes will not kill him.

Somewhere else in his apartment, a bedroom door slams. Wincing, Seokjin pulls his comforter higher. His roommate, Min Yoongi, spends most of his time annoyed with the world – but especially in the morning, and especially before having coffee. Loud banging continues, along with the sound of facial products hitting the sink. Groaning out loud, Seokjin pulls a pillow over his face.

Unfortunately, he is now awake and unable to slip back into his dream. It was a good one, too. Something about Iron Man and that hot barista at the mall Taehyung is crushing on. Squinting into his pillow, Seokjin abruptly sits up and tosses this on the floor.

“Fuck!” he yelps, throwing up a hand.

Every day, Seokjin somehow forgets to close his blinds before sleeping. Groping his way into the bathroom, Seokjin ruffles a hand through mussed morning hair. Turning on both taps in his shower, he waits for the water to warm and stares at himself in the mirror.

Clapping both hands to his face, Seokjin drags down the side of his cheeks. Getting older is weird.

Before he can get too hung up on this fact, Seokjin steps into the tub. “I GET KNOCKED DOWN,” he sings, lathering himself with soap. “BUT I GET UP AGAIN!”

Once out of the shower, dried and with a towel wrapped around his waist, Seokjin wanders into his closet. The sight dims his spirits a bit, seeing rows and rows of neatly pressed suits. Seokjin stares them each down in turn, knowing blinking is a weakness.

Reaching past them, he sighs.

The one at the front is navy, pin-striped and stares at him mockingly. Seokjin remembers wearing that one on his first day of work, nearly three years ago. He remembers how proud his parents were of him when he called them on his way home.

Seokjin’s heart sinks at the memory. That first phone call overlaps with another, less pleasant one. The one after his company decided to move their programming center out of his city. Seokjin was not one of the engineers selected to go. He was – rather unceremoniously – let go.

Let go. Seokjin snorts at the memory. Let go is such a nicer way to say fired. Fired has the ring of burnt smoke to it; it stinks of crumbling foundations and all hell breaking loose. If a company wants to yank one’s livelihood out from under them, Seokjin at least feels they should have the decency to call it what it is. Let go.

Shaking his head, Seokjin pushes past the suit to grab a white button-down. It has been nearly six months since that second call. Four months since his severance ran out and Seokjin realized he needed a job. Three months and three weeks since he began working at the Fidget Funk – even thinking the name makes Seokjin wince.

If someone had told him three years ago that he, Kim Seokjin, with his fancy degree and multiple years of experience, would ever be working a glorified mall job, Seokjin would have laughed in their face. He would have asked what they were smoking and if he could share – and yet. Here he is.

Frowning at himself in the mirror, Seokjin zips up his pants. Perhaps the worst part is that Seokjin was not upset when he was ‘let go.’ He was not actually disappointed by the firing, which disappointed his parents even more. When Bob and Karen from HR sat him down in that tiny, white room and handed him a tiny, white packet, Seokjin could not stop grinning.

His colleagues thought he had been kept when he left the room. That is how much Seokjin hated that company. His pure joy at finally leaving was enough to make up for the sucky way it happened.

Honestly, Seokjin was not surprised when he was fired. His entire last year he worked there, Seokjin spent most of his free time designing apps on his phone. No wonder they let him go, come to think of it. He was hardly their employee of the year.

Grabbing both wallet and keys, Seokjin shoves these into his pockets. Stepping into the hall, he glances at Yoongi’s room. “Yoongi!” he calls. No answer. “Hey! Min Yoongi!”

Continued silence, apart from the harsh thud of bass.

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Seokjin tries again. “MIN YOONGI!”

The door at the end of the hall opens, hitting the wall. “What?” With a yawn, Yoongi drags a hand through his hair. Bleached blond strands fall about his face. “You said 10:00 AM. It’s 10:01.”

“Right.” Seokjin looks at him pointedly. “But I need to have the kiosk set up by 10:30, or else Bertha gets pissed.”

Yoongi walks past him and frowns. “Who’s Bertha? I don’t remember you working with anyone named Bertha.”

“I don’t.” Seokjin shrugs. Today is one of the rare days their work schedules lined up and – amazingly enough – Yoongi agreed to carpool. “Bertha is the name of my fidget spinner display. She’s temperamental.”

Yoongi groans, shutting the door. “Dude, you need to get a hobby.”

“I do have a hobby!”

“Then, get a girlfriend,” says Yoongi, sliding his keys from the lock. “You have way too much free time on your hands.”

“Do not,” Seokjin mutters, shoving both hands in his pockets as they walk to his car. “I’m working on loads of stuff.”

“Oh, really?” Yoongi flips his phone. “Which amazing app is it today? Let me guess. The one which meows every time a cat comes near? Or, the one which ranks all the apps in your phone from most to least used? Or, maybe –”

“Hey!” Cutting him off, Seokjin pulls open his car door. “You left out Alliterate! The handy app which suggests words which start with the same letter as yours – for casual alliteration.”

Yoongi stares over the roof of his car. “Dude, who would buy that?”

“English majors. Dramatic teenagers writing letters in the eighteenth century.”

“Seokjin.” Yoongi slides into the passenger seat. “You don’t give a fuck about any of these ideas, and therein lies your problem.”

“Oh, really?” Seokjin sticks his keys into the ignition. The car is sweltering, baking from having been left in the sun all morning. “Unlike you and your SoundCloud rapping?”

“Exactly unlike me and my SoundCloud rapping.” Grinning, Yoongi buckles his seatbelt and looks over at Seokjin. “Speaking of which – I have a new track to play.”

“No.”

Turning on the engine, Seokjin winces when a red warning light appears. He apparently needs an oil change soon but – with what money?

“Yes.” Yoongi reaches out, already hooking up his phone. “Just these two hooks, okay? Tell me which one you like more.”

Twelve minutes later, Seokjin pulls into his unofficial parking spot at the mall. “Will you look at that?” he says, turning off the engine. “We’re here! Time to go sell those fidgets!”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes open the door. Shoving his white Auntie Anne’s visor further up on his head, he glances around. “You’ll be sorry,” he says, slamming the door. “You’ll all be sorry!” Yoongi yells at the empty parking lot.

Patting him once on the back, Seokjin walks inside. “You know that I like your music.” Seokjin shivers when they both hit the AC. “More than like it, in fact. You’re too good and you know it – your head is inflated, and I have to take you down a peg.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, because all this pretzel rolling is inflating my ego. I’m basically Kanye, pre-Kim. Or Kanye, post-Kim. Say what you will about the guy, he’s remarkably consistent about how good he thinks he is.”

Snorting, Seokjin quiets when they pass by Kay Jewelers. Both men swerve to avoid eye contact, since they never know when what’s-her-name will be working. Seokjin makes a face. He always forgets her name, but the Kay Jewelers girl is usually after the dick of someone in the mall. Both he and Yoongi have been on the receiving end of that hunt before.

“Alright.” Coming to a stop at his kiosk, Seokjin lowers his gym bag to the ground. “Here is where I bid thee adieu.”

Yoongi continues walking. “Bye.”

“BYE, BEST FRIEND!” Seokjin yells, waving as Yoongi crosses the food court.

Several heads turn, and Seokjin continues waving until his roommate is gone. Grinning, Seokjin returns to his kiosk. Unlocking the metal grating, he pulls this up to reveal a brightly colored display. The morning routine is standard. Inventory, balancing the register, ensuring all displays are functional. Each time he passes the front, Seokjin sees his name on the register.

The kiosk’s top salesman, three months in a row.

It might seem like a silly thing to be proud of, but Seokjin is at a point in his life where everything has gone wrong. Everything he does seems to become a failure and even though he hates this job and hates these fidget spinners (okay, that’s harsh – no one hates fidget spinners), at least he can succeed at this one, small thing.

Selling shit to people they absolutely do not need.

Leaning against the counter, Seokjin crosses an ankle to wait. The mall opens on weekdays at 11:00 AM, prompt. Some places are open earlier – like Java Joe’s, the coffee shop, and maybe the gym – but Seokjin’s kiosk is standard mall hours. Rubbing his eyes, Seokjin glances longingly in the direction of Java Joe’s, but there are only five minutes until the mall opens. He needs to remain where he is.

Pulling his phone from his jacket, he shoots off a quick text.

Seokjin: yo [10:55 AM]

It takes a moment for Namjoon to respond.

Namjoon: what do you want? [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: nothing!!! [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: … [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: ok fine [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: I’ll come clean [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: are you doing the morning shift at T-Mobile [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: …. Yes [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: why? [10:57 AM]

Seokjin: do u think… on ur next break… u could bring me some coffee?? [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: get it yourself [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: pleaseeee Joon?? I never ask you for anything! [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: Chad called in sick, so I’m here all alone : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: sigh. Fine – can you hang on until 1? [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: ur the worst but fine, I’ll try to get away sooner [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: THANKS JOON [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: grande iced Americano, no milk [10:59 AM]

Namjoon: u wouldn’t treat Yoongi like this [10:59 AM]

Seokjin snorts, shoving his phone in his pocket. He absolutely would treat Yoongi like this – problem is, Yoongi rarely responds. He usually spends his work breaks engrossed in his music. If anything, Seokjin is the one who brings coffee to him.

The first two hours pass by at a glacial pace. Seokjin regularly looks at his watch, wondering why the day is moving so slowly. True, it is a weekday but there is usually steady traffic. Stay at home parents and high school kids with nothing better to do than spend their summers at the mall, drinking Orange Julius’ next to the fountain.

It took Seokjin two months to convince his boss to put in for this spot. Next to the fountain is prime mall real estate, since you need to pass by it in order to reach anywhere else. Which is why it is strange that Seokjin has had zero customers.

He is still frowning when Namjoon appears at his workplace, iced coffee in hand. Namjoon wears his T-Mobile manager uniform, complete with a badge which declares his name and title. Kim Namjoon, Assistant Manager.

“Two?” Seokjin fake gasps, holding out a hand. “All for me?”

“Nope.” Namjoon only gives one to him. “One is for me.”

“Rude.” Seokjin sniffs, turning to survey the mall.

“What is? The fact that I brought you coffee?”

“Sure.”

Namjoon laughs. “What’s up with you today? You seem super distracted.”

Squinting at the fountain, Seokjin shakes his head. “I don’t know. Things have been so quiet today. Is there something going on? A deal at Woodbury mall, or something?”

“Hm.” Namjoon’s brow furrows. “Not that I know of, I – oh, wait.” He straightens, glancing across the food court. “When I was walking over here, I did see a new kiosk. Maybe they’re taking some of your customers?”

“A new kiosk?” Seokjin looks up in alarm. “Where?”

“There.” Namjoon points behind a browning, potted plant.

Seokjin peers in the direction Namjoon is pointing. In his line of vision stands a brand-spanking-new kiosk. The sides are all pristine, gleaming and white, with the kind of bright-colored accents designed to draw people in. Neat boxes of toys line the shelves, almost as pretty as Seokjin’s own display.

Groaning, Seokjin sinks to his kiosk. “Drones?” He glances at Namjoon. “How are fidget spinners supposed to compete with fucking drones?”

“Dunno.” Namjoon takes a sip of his coffee. “I first saw them this morning, but they’re getting pretty good business. Nearly tripped over their salesgirl on my way here. She’s cute,” he adds, glancing at Seokjin.

Seokjin glowers. “Cuter than me?”

“Maybe.” Namjoon shrugs.

“Impossible.” Seokjin glares in the direction of the kiosk. On one side, he can barely make out the shape of a worker and based on what he sees, Seokjin begrudgingly thinks Namjoon might be right. You could be cute.

Namjoon drains the rest of his cup. “Well. Gotta go,” he says cheerfully, clapping Seokjin on the back. “Breaks don’t last forever. Hope the rest of your day picks up.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters. “Hope so, too.”

Namjoon leaves, returning the same way he came towards the T-Mobile store. Seokjin continues to glance at the competing kiosk, staring with envy at its remote-controlled helicopters.

Up until now, the competitive landscape at the mall has been easy. There is a guy on the second floor selling Proactive but other than that, Seokjin has never had real competition. Until now, it would seem.

Rather than be turned off by this fact, Seokjin tilts his head. The only reason he lasted as long as he did at his prior company is because of how competitive he is. Even if Seokjin does not care about the product, he still works tirelessly to be called number one. He should stop by and check out the competition – just to be certain there is no real risk.

Seokjin’s phone buzzes, revealing a text from his boss. Lisa will be here at 5:00 PM, meaning Seokjin only must hold out a few hours before he can see the new kiosk.

Only a few more hours until he knows what he is up against.

Lisa’s arrival at five means Seokjin is afforded a half-hour break. He uses this to grab food, bothering Yoongi at Auntie Anne’s before moving on. Dinnertime at the mall is typically crowded and Yoongi tends to throw mustard if Seokjin overstays his welcome.

Not wanting to ruin his button-down, Seokjin wanders in the direction of your kiosk. He eyes this as he approaches, finding the reality of the situation to be worse than he feared. The drones you stock are cool and what is more – they are all beautifully displayed. The stand might even rival Bertha.

Crossing both arms over his chest, Seokjin examines the kiosk. The products are neat, all of them aligned in carefully placed rows. The fingers on his right hand twitch, really wanting to touch the remote- controlled helicopters, but before he can move –

“Can I help you?” you ask, bright and cheerful. Seokjin flinches, gaze darting to you.

Fuck – seeing you up close, Seokjin’s jaw nearly hits the ground. You are gorgeous. There is no other word for it. The smile you give is infections; it makes him want to smile back. More than that – Seokjin finds himself wanting to be the reason for that smile, but no! Straightening his spine, Seokjin reminds himself that you are the competition.

Looking at you, his scowl deepens.

Your own smile falters. “Did you want me to take that one out?” you ask, pointing at the drone. “Show you how it works?”

Seokjin shrugs, as though he could not care less. “I’m not here to buy, actually.”

Now, it is your turn to look confused. “I – uh, okay.” You squint. “Then, why are you here?”

Seokjin realizes how creepy he sounds. In your eyes, he has wandered over, stared at your merchandise for a prolonged period of time and then announced he was not here to buy. A grade-A creep rivaled only by that one flasher who lurks in female footwear.

“Uh…” Backtracking, Seokjin jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I work at that kiosk, actually. I’m Seokjin.”

Unimpressed, you glance in this direction. “Y/N. And – uh, okay?”

“I stopped by to say hello. And to see what you’re selling.”

As he speaks, you read the name of his kiosk. Your upper lip twitches as slowly, you return to looking at him. Seokjin is unnerved by your smile. For some reason, he has the sinking suspicion he is the butt of your joke.

“Oh,” you say, tone entirely different. “That kiosk. Brandi mentioned you.”

“Brandi?”

“My boss.” You wave towards the middle-aged woman on the other side of the kiosk. Seokjin thinks he has seen her around before. “She said you’ve been selling pretty well the past couple of months. Great job.”

Seokjin tries not to seem smug – there is an undercurrent to your tone which screams subterfuge. “I mean, yeah,” he says carefully. “Things are going pretty well for us.”

“Strange, then.”

“What is?”

“Strange that we’re doing so much better than you.”

Someone could scrape Seokjin’s jaw off the dirty, child-scuffed floor. You smirk at him, tapping two fingers against the pretty, floral sleeve of your tunic. If Seokjin did not know better, he would think you were flirting with him.

Except you just fucking insulted him.

“I…” Shaking his head, Seokjin’s voice is strangled. “Mall traffic has been slow this morning. No big deal. I guess once you’ve been around longer, you’ll know that.”

“Hm.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know – things have been pretty crazy for us today. We already ran out of a product. Wild, right?”

Seokjin’s mouth dries, his ears starting to buzz – all evidence of his pure hatred of you. Obviously. It could not be anything else.

“You ran… out of something? Already?”

Seokjin’s voice squeaks on the last word, making him cringe.

“Not bad, huh? Although, I guess once we’ve ‘been around longer,’” you mock with a grin, “we’ll get more lulls. Must be nice.”

In the face of his clear disbelief, you have the nerve to wink.

Seokjin begins to see red. “Yeah,” he croaks, recovering himself. “Beginner’s luck is nice, too.”

Your smile disappears. “How long is your break? I don’t think my kiosk could afford to have me gone for so long.”

Not looking away, Seokjin shoves the rest of his pretzel in his mouth. Chewing exaggeratedly, he watches you wince. “Sorry,” he mumbles around cinnamon-sugar bread. “Thanks for the reminder. I do need to be getting back. Can’t have my kiosk without its top salesman.”

Nose wrinkled; you continue to stare. “If that’s your idea of finesse, I think they can manage without you.”

“Please.” Seokjin gives you a pointed look. “I’m literally dripping with finesse.”

Your lips twitch, suppressing the gesture. Seokjin is impressed by your stoicism, since he knows he is a good-looking guy. That much is a non-debatable fact. Even if it were not, he can see by the way your gaze lingers, that you like what you see. And still – when your gaze returns to his face, your expression is artfully composed.

Fuck, Seokjin realizes. You really are going to be competition.

“Is that all?” Blithely, you turn. “Did you just stop by to see how much better we’re doing?”

Seokjin scowls at your arguably perfect behind. “I came to see how much product you have left, yeah.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you grin. “Why? Worried we’ll sell out before you can buy?”

“No.” Undercutting his conviction, Seokjin glances again at the helicopter. “I’ve got my hands full, thanks.”

“Ri-ght.” You draw out the word. “Then, you should probably get back to the, uh – Fidget Funk.”

Seokjin’s ears turn red with embarrassment. “I will,” he blurts, spinning around on his heel. “You have fun at the Drone Dome – fuck,” he mutters, coming to a stop. “That’s actually such a cool name.”

Without waiting for a response, he stalks away. All the way across the food court, your laughter rings out behind him. Upon reaching his kiosk, Seokjin glances over his shoulder. You are not paying attention to him, already engaged with another customer and Seokjin’s stomach slowly sinks.

He might be in trouble – and in more ways than one.

Seokjin arrives the next day ready for battle.

Before, he was unprepared – caught off guard by your wily ways, but no longer! He is Kim Seokjin, crusader of goals and defender of the kiosk. The fact that Seokjin does not care about fidget spinners does not matter. They are his unfortunate chosen weapon and so, he will die upon this metaphorical sword.

Leaning against his kiosk, Seokjin spins a toy in one hand. Smiling and nodding at everyone who passes, he tries not to seem creepy or make eye contact for too long. This is the number one rule of kiosk sales – be deliberate, but approachable.

Most kiosk salespeople fail here, never ascending past the first stage of selling. They leer at shoppers, approaching women with earbuds in, or spraying perfume without asking. Not Seokjin. Seokjin is the very image of class, one ankle crossed over the other.

Seated at the food court is a large group of collegiate girls. At least, Seokjin assumes this based off one girl’s University sweatshirt. They sit clustered around Starbucks drinks (a slap in the face to Java Joe’s!), giggling every so often and glancing at Seokjin. Despite knowing they see him, Seokjin pretends not to care. Every so often, he pushes a hand through his hair and angles himself in the light.

Eventually, he knows one will come over and when they do, Seokjin will whip out the charm. A shadow steps into his path, blocking the sunlight.

Seokjin frowns. “Get out of the way,” he says, bored. “I almost have a sale.”

Arms crossed; you glance over a shoulder. The group of girls glare at you, clearly perturbed at having their view interrupted.

Snorting, you return to Seokjin. “Oh, please. So, what – you’re a pedophile, in addition to creep?”

Jerking upright, Seokjin scowls. “I am not a pedophile. I’m just trying to make a sale.”

“Of what kind?” you ask pleasantly.

“Fidget spinners.”

“Hm. Could’ve fooled me.”

Shrugging, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seokjin tries not to linger on the way your lips wrap around the straw.

I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says stiffly. “Now, move. You’re blocking my light.”

“Whatever,” you yawn, leaving. As you enter the food court, you give Seokjin an excellent view of your backside walking away. “We’ll still beat your sales target today, anyways!” you call back.

Glaring at your retreating head, Seokjin holds out for as long as he can before dropping his gaze to your ass. Waggling fingers over your shoulder, you disappear behind the potted plant. The college girls resume looking at him but now, Seokjin finds he does not care.

Really, he should be thanking you. As soon as you are gone, three of the girls wander up to his kiosk. Seokjin sells five fidget spinners in one hour, thanks to the jealousy your presence provoked. Rather than be pleased by this fact though, Seokjin becomes even more agitated. He does not like feeling in your debt.

The next time your shifts overlap, determined to get even, Seokjin switches tactics. He parks on the opposite end of the mall, necessitating he should walk by your kiosk. Yoongi complains about this, but Seokjin merely ignores him.

Slowing as he passes your kiosk, Seokjin waits for you to look up.

Both elbows leaned to the counter, you scroll casually through your phone. When your gaze flicks up, taking him in – you blink.

“Oh, come on,” you groan.

Waving to Yoongi, Seokjin veers in your direction. “Oh, hey!” He stops at your display, nonchalantly stretching his arms overhead. “Having a good morning?”

Gaze darting to his pants and back up, you almost seem flustered. “I – how tight are those jeans?”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What, these old things?”

Turning around, Seokjin checks out his own ass, as though surprised by its appearance. He is rather proud of his legs, actually. There is a reason Seokjin spends so much time in the gym with Jungkook. His newly bought skinny jeans show off his best assets. Not to mention how satisfying it is to see you rendered speechless.

Your gaze returns to his, smoldering. “There’s a tag still in the pocket, genius.”

“Oh.” Grandly, Seokjin plucks this off – fuck, that just cost him an entire week of spending allowance. “Well, there you go. Wouldn’t want to distract from the view.”

Jaw clenched, you seem as though you want to say more, but hold yourself back. “Great.”

Seokjin smirks. “Isn’t it?”

Whirling around, you pretend to be busy but Seokjin can tell your register has already been counted.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your kiosk?” You glower, glancing over your shoulder. “I’d hate to waste any more of your time standing here.”

Seokjin’s grin broadens. “You’re right,” he agrees. “That’d be a shame. See you around, Y/N!”

Happily, he turns and walks back the food court. With each step his grin widens, imagining you watching him leave. The rest of his day is spent in lazy self-satisfaction.

As it turns out, Seokjin should have been warier. Your silence was not acceptance of defeat, but a determined self-call to arms. The very next day, Seokjin walks past your kiosk and nearly spills his drink down his shirt.

You stand off to the side, bent to display a generous amount of cleavage. Seokjin’s jaw drops, unable to look away. He realizes how inappropriate he is being when you look up and see him.

“Seokjin!” Straightening, you wave.

The action makes your breasts bounce, causing Seokjin’s pants to feel tighter.

Yoongi snorts at his side. “Good luck, man,” he says, patting Seokjin once on the back before walking away.

Seokjin is left alone, facing the wiles of his enemy.

“Hey,” you say, raising both brows. “Seokjin? Are you okay?”

Forcing himself to move, Seokjin walks robotically forward. He does not allow himself to look below your collarbone – fuck, you must be wearing a push-up bra. There is no other way a single day could cause such a dramatic transformation.

Unable to help himself, Seokjin sneaks another peek.

When he looks up, you are smirking at him. “See something you like?”

The tips of Seokjin’s ears turn crimson. “I – what?”

“The merchandise,” you say sweetly, waving a hand. “We just got in a few new toys over the weekend.”

Seokjin has no response to this, having momentarily forgotten what words are.

Your lips twitch. “Is something wrong, Seokjin?”

Seeing the teasing look in your eyes, Seokjin fumes. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, jaw snapping shut. “I’ll just be on my way, then. Lots of… fidgets to spin.”

Turning around, he dramatically walks off.

He cannot help but feel oddly unsettled, throat burning in a way which does not make sense. Anger, he tells himself. The emotion is merely annoyance. It is completely natural he would hate his competitor. Natural, for him to think about what their lips would look like shut up by his.

It takes two weeks for Seokjin to enact the next phase of his plan. Which is – dramatic entertainment. Basically, phase two involves Seokjin researching fidget spinner hand tricks for hours at a time on YouTube. It reaches to the point where Seokjin is in near hibernation. Jungkook sends him texts every so often, asking when he will return to the gym, but Seokjin is a man on a mission and cannot be stopped.

He starts off slowly, learning the simple fidget spinner hand transfer. Next is the hand twist, rated Difficulty Level Two by the most known YouTube star. From there, learning the around the back is easy. This maneuver is more complex – it involves Seokjin physically throwing the fidget spinner over his shoulder to catch in the other hand.

Once Seokjin can control two fidget spinners at once, he deems himself ready.

Phase two goes into action on a busy Saturday afternoon. Seokjin hijacks the Fidget Funk’s speakers, hooking up his iPhone to the horror of his co-worker, Lisa.

“Oh, no,” she groans. “Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing.”

“Are you thinking I’m doing a fidget spinner trick show?” Seokjin adjusts the sweatband on his forehead. “Alright, then. I won’t tell you.”

“God, how embarrassing.” Lisa slumps low in her chair. “Well, at least do it before Chad gets here.”

“Noted. What song should I use?” Seokjin flips through his playlist. “Hero by Enrique Iglesias? Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo? The Cha Cha Slide?”

Lisa stares in disbelief. “What vibe are you going for, exactly?”

“None of those?” Seokjin frowns. “What about All Star by Smash Mouth?”

“How about Cotton Eyed Joe?” Lisa offers. “That seems more fitting with all of… this.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, Seokjin selects a song to press play. The first notes of Everybody by Backstreet Boys plays through the speakers. Lisa groans and slumps even lower.

At first, no one notices Seokjin at all. People sidestep him, focused solely on getting to the food court but then, Seokjin executes a perfect shoulder throw. A kid stops to watch. His mom stops too, trying to drag her kid forward but failing in her mission.

“Hey!” Seokjin beams, switching the spinner from one hand to the other. “Want to see more?”

The boy nods and before long, Seokjin has managed to gather a small crowd. Over the ooh’s and ahs of children, Seokjin converses with their moms.

“Fidget spinners are proven to help concentration in both kids and adults,” Seokjin says with a hand twist. “One of my friends was telling me a story the other day. He and this AVP at his office are both tactile people and remember better while doing something with their hands. So, they end up having this entire meeting while playing with fidget spinners from her office.”

The moms all laugh, moving forward to let their kids pick out a toy. By the time the day ends, Seokjin has beaten all previous sales records. He has also managed to capture the attention of most people in the mall – including you.

And Namjoon, who stops by before closing.

“Dude,” Namjoon laughs, leaning one arm to his kiosk. “Why are you being so extra lately? It’s just a temp job. Who cares?”

“I care, Namjoon.” Seokjin bristles. “Is it so wrong to want to do well at my work? To want to improve the sales of my peers. Frankly, Namjoon, I’m insulted you would –”

“Hey, Kim!” you yell, passing by. “Heard you’re trying to break into show business!”

Seokjin abruptly stops talking. “Trying?” he calls back. “I’m already there. Were you able to catch a performance?”

Rolling your eyes, you walk backwards. “Of course, I did! The whole fucking mall saw you, Seokjin. Your music was so loud, people physically moved in the food court.”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What’d you think?”

“I think you should stick to sales.” Shaking your head, you try not to smile. “Anyways, just wait until you see what we’re doing this weekend. It’ll make your lame tricks look like nothing!”

“Can’t wait!” Seokjin cups both hands over his mouth. “I love to watch lofty dreams come crashing down!”

Shaking your head, you turn around and disappear into the mall. Once you are gone, Seokjin returns to Namjoon.

“What?” he blinks, seeing his friend’s smug expression.

Namjoon’s smile widens. “Oh, nothing.”

“What?”

Namjoon merely laughs, grabbing his smoothie and turning away. “Good luck with that, man!”

Seokjin stares after, not understanding but deciding it is not worth his while. Namjoon always thinks he knows so much – granted, he usually does, but that is not the point. The point is Seokjin does not and so, he should not worry about it now.

The next day is busy, which means Seokjin barely has time to consider the performance you mentioned. He is again covering for Lisa, who failed to show up. Chad and Seokjin are the only ones covering the kiosk, which Seokjin despises because Chad is his least favorite co-worker. Lisa may be flaky, but at least her presence is tolerable. Chad is always going off on tangents about who wronged him on Twitter that day, and why.

Chad is also terrible at customer service – no surprise – which means Seokjin must handle all returns and exchanges. A tedious task in itself, let alone with Chad’s monotonous voice in his ears. In fact, the morning is so busy, Seokjin barely remembers to eat, let alone visit you.

It is the sound of cheers over the food court which make him look up.

Midway through a transaction, Seokjin pauses to glance at your kiosk. You and your Manager – Brandi – stand before it, navigating two competing drones in the air. It seems several people are betting on which drone will win.

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin returns to his customer. Smiling blandly, he hands the woman her money and ignores the wild cheers growing steadily behind him. It makes Seokjin’s teeth grind, realizing you might be drawing a bigger crowd than he did.

Unable to stop himself, he peers over his shoulder. Seokjin’s eyes widen. Above the food court, a helicopter loops circles around a remote-controlled plane. They no longer seem to be racing, dive- bombing the crowd and swooping up at the last second. Kids squeal in excitement, running around underneath.

Seokjin scowls, slamming shut the register. His mind revolts at the knowledge that your show is better than his – also, there is the maddening fact that Seokjin wants a drone for himself. Huffing under his breath, Seokjin turns away.

Before he can tell Chad he is going on break, a scream pierces the crowd.

“MOVE!” Seokjin hears your voice above the rest. “KIDS, MOVE!”

Seokjin whirls around, spotting the helicopter spinning out of control. Kids duck from its path, their hands held overhead as the helicopter sputters, dips and sputters again. Steam curls from its top, clearly not responding to the remote you hold in one hand.

Worse than that, the drone is headed in their direction.

“Chad, move!” Seokjin yells, diving out of the way.

Chad looks up just in time to see the helicopter crash into their kiosk.

Fidget spinners fly every which way. From his spot on the floor, several hit Seokjin in the back of his legs – he winces, curling into himself. Chad’s sputtering continues above as the slow whir of helicopter blades begins to wind down.

Seokjin hesitantly looks up. The kiosk above him is chaos. Nothing seems to be broken, but his carefully placed display – Bertha! – is entirely out of whack. Brightly colored boxes lie on the floor, shelving hanging precariously off the sides of the kiosk.

You dash into view, skidding to a stop inches away from his nose. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, a useless remote held in one hand. “I don’t know what happened, I swear.”

Your gaze darts to Seokjin’s, still lying prostrate on the floor.

He slowly pushes himself to stand, staring in shock at the disastrous kiosk. Seokjin expects to feel angry. He should feel pissed, since all his hard work was erased and now, he will have to spend several hours cleaning it up, but – nothing.

Well, that is not entirely true.

Seokjin wishes he could wipe that look of distress from your face. “It’s alright,” he says, still looking at you.

Surprise flickers over your expression.

Chad steps out from behind the kiosk. “Oh… my… god,” he says, eyes wide.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeat, face twisted in agony.

Before you can continue, your manager appears. “Go back to the kiosk, Y/N,” she says, sighing. “There are a bunch of customers to take care of. I’ll handle this.”

It appears you wish to say more, but a stern look from Brandi is silencing. Giving Seokjin an apologetic look, you turn on your heel to walk across the food court.

Brandi waits until you are out of earshot before looking at Seokjin. “I’m sorry about the disruption,” she offers.

Seokjin tears his gaze away. “It’s okay.”

“What?!” Chad stomps out to point a finger at Brandi. “It is not okay! You and your dumb drones wrecked our display!”

Brandi looks at his finger, unimpressed. She glances at Seokjin. “You can throw that helicopter away. If anything of yours has been damaged, let me know. We’ll pay for it – just send me an itemized receipt by the end of the day, okay?”

Seokjin nods, a bit thrown by the interaction. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

Brandi looks at him thankfully, turning around to return to her kiosk. Once she is gone, Chad whirls on Seokjin.

“Man, what the fuck?”

Bending, Seokjin picks up a lone fidget spinner. “What do you mean, what the fuck?”

“They should’ve…” Chad trails off, shaking his head. “Done more. I don’t know. They should’ve cleaned up the whole area, or something!”

Seokjin snorts, replacing the toy on the counter. “Relax,” he says. “It’s not like anything is seriously damaged. We just need to re-stock the display and besides, they don’t know how to do that. It’ll be faster if we do it.”

“Even so,” Chad mutters. He begins cleaning up, casting an angry glance in the direction of the Drone Dome. “They should still fucking pay.”

“They will, if anything’s broken,” Seokjin says simply.

He then tunes Chad out, putting himself to work. Re-stocking Bertha takes a while but, in the end, Seokjin is happier with its order. He keeps thinking you will stop by after your shift, but you do not. Perhaps you are too embarrassed to do so, or maybe Brandi warned you not to go near them again.

Whatever the reason, Seokjin cannot leave before closing. When he finally passes kiosk on his way to the gym, everything is closed, and you are nowhere in sight.

Seokjin lingers a moment before he moves on.

SLAM.

Seokjin drops his barbells, the sound echoing through the gym in a satisfying way. Several women on the elliptical look up in annoyance.

“Sorry!” Seokjin calls, wiping sweat from his neck.

Although the women continue to glare, they return to their workout. Jungkook snickers into the sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging beneath the tight fit of his clothes. Pulling a power bar from his pocket, Jungkook waves at the weights Seokjin discarded.

“Give me ten more.”

Seokjin glares. “Go choke.”

“Can’t.” Unwrapping his snack, Jungkook takes a large bite. “Told my current hook-up that was just for her.”

“Gross.” Seokjin groans, bending to grab the weights. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Jungkook grins, displaying chocolate and teeth. “Ten more,” he repeats.

Despite several muttered curse words under his breath, Seokjin obeys. Dropping the weights again on the floor – in direct defiance of the no weight-dropping sign – Seokjin grabs his knees with both hands.

“Alright,” he huffs, squinting at Jungkook. “I don’t care anymore if I’m in shape. I care more about snacks. Snacks and alcohol.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that.” Jungkook takes another bite. “I’m using one of my free guest passes on you, so you better be worth it.”

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin takes a long swig from his water bottle. Despite this, he still follows Jungkook as they walk to the treadmills. Jungkook is right, he is doing Seokjin a favor by letting him work out for free. Truth be told, Seokjin hated Jungkook when he first began at the mall. Jungkook was young, good- looking and got tons of attention – male and female, alike.

He was the competition.

Over time though, this distrust dissolved and somehow, Jungkook is now one of Seokjin’s closest friends. When he is not annoying the hell out of him, that is.

Throwing his wrapper in the trash, Jungkook wipes both palms on his pants. “So.” Stepping onto a treadmill, he turns the speed to three. “How’s it going with drone girl?”

Seokjin follows suit. “She knocked over my display today.”

“Like, on purpose?”

“Nah.” Seokjin shakes his head. “On accident. She was doing a demo and one of the helicopter drones broke. Crashed into my kiosk.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Still – annoying. Increase your speed.”

Seokjin obeys. “Eh,” he huffs, beginning to jog. “I don’t think it was on purpose. But still, she’s just so frustrating.”

“What’s frustrating? Increase your speed again to four.”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, following suit. “She’s frustrating. She has this way of looking at me, you know?”

“Looking at you in like, a creepy way?”

“No…” Seokjin’s feet pound the treadmill. “She’s a tease.”

“Sounds hot.”

“She keeps messing with me.”

“You keep messing with her.”

“She made fun of my fidget spinners!”

Jungkook bursts into laughter. To add insult to injury, he barely seems winded at all by their run and Seokjin is panting.

“Dude. Fidget spinners suck. I’ve heard you say that on multiple occasions.”

“Sure, but she doesn’t have to say that!”

“Whatever, bro.” Jungkook grins. “Sounds to me like you want to fuck her.”

Seokjin is so startled, he nearly trips on the treadmill. “I do not.”

“No judgement here! Do it once, get it out of your system.”

“I don’t want to fuck her, Jungkook.” Seokjin glares in his direction. “She hates me. And I hate her!”

“O-h,” Jungkook says knowingly. “So, you’re in love with her. I get it. Increase your speed to five.”

Seokjin obeys, face turning beet-red. “Jungkook,” he growls. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

Reaching out, Seokjin turns the speed on Jungkook’s treadmill to eight.

“Hey!” Jungkook yelps, breaking into a sprint. He manages to keep up, pushing a hand through his hair. When Seokjin rolls his eyes, Jungkook grins. “Nailed it.”

Seokjin returns to his machine. “Besides, you’re one to talk,” he mutters. “Aren’t you in love with the juice girl, or something?”

On reflex, Jungkook glances over his shoulder. Seokjin can tell by his lovesick expression he is right. Juice girl only started working recently at the gym and from what Seokjin can tell, Jungkook is entirely smitten. He has never been subtle about the women he likes, but with juice girl, Jungkook seems to have met his match.

She is completely immune to his charms. Seokjin cannot help but feel sympathy for the guy. Or – at least, he does until Jungkook returns to him with a grin.

“So.” He wriggles his eyebrows. “How hot is kiosk girl, anyways?”

“No.” Seokjin reaches out to increase Jungkook’s incline. “You’re not going to fuck my mortal enemy.”

“Well, if you’re not going to.”

“Think about juice girl!” Seokjin yells – entirely unintentional, but he is running out of breath.

Jungkook retaliates by upping his speed. By the end of their sprint, Seokjin feels like collapsing. He steps off his treadmill with wobbly legs, feeling as though he has just run a marathon. Not that Seokjin would ever run a marathon, of course, but he can imagine. Jungkook follows suit, hopping down from his machine.

“Good workout.” Jungkook wipes his forehead with a towel. “Wanna come over and hang? Hoseok from Foot Locker is gonna come, too.”

Seokjin nods, taking a sip from his water bottle. “Yeah, okay.” He glances again at the door, but your kiosk is too far to see. “Sounds good to me.”

As they walk towards the locker rooms, Jungkook chatters aimlessly but Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you. While he showers and changes, Jungkook’s words replay in his mind. The idea of Seokjin having a crush on you is insane. The two of you have barely exchanged one nice word since you met.

Still. Snapping a towel free from his neck, Seokjin continues to wonder. He does think about you an awful lot. Usually, he is thinking of new ways to annoy you, but that is more than he thinks about anyone else. Chad, for instance – or Lisa.

Frowning, Seokjin slams shut his locker. He cannot ignore the initial attraction he had for you. If you had not been his competition, Seokjin would have probably asked you out.

The moment he thinks this, he freezes. Maybe this is why you annoy him so much – Seokjin is attracted to you and can do nothing about it.

Under any other set of circumstances, this fact would be enlightening but things being what they are though, nothing has changed. You still hate him. Seokjin still finds you his competition.

Staring at his locker, Seokjin’s lips twist.

“Seokjin!” Jungkook yells from the door. “You coming, or what?”

Jerking himself free from his thoughts, Seokjin picks up his bag. “Coming!” he yells, pushing you from his mind.

Seokjin has the next two days off work. He uses this mainly to work on his apps, pouring time and energy into working the kinks from his latest round of updates. In between each stroke of his keyboard, he is thinking of you.

Seokjin hates Jungkook a little, for pointing out the obvious fact that he likes you. Before that, Seokjin took his fixation with you at face value. He did not like you; he was just annoyed by you. Now, though.

He cannot help but wonder.

Exhaling loudly, Seokjin slumps against his kiosk. His manager is off once again – honestly, that dude never works – and Seokjin is stuck working with Chad. Absently, Seokjin twirls a spinner around his finger.

“You okay, man?” Chad breaks the silence.

Shaking his head, Seokjin stares into space. “Oh, yeah. Just a bit preoccupied, that’s all.”

“With what?”

Seokjin shrugs, not feeling like talking.

Chad is one of the few people capable of getting under his skin without saying a word. It is something about the way Chad stands – chest puffed, gaze lazy, as though the world owes him something. He always wears a backwards cap, even inside and Seokjin suspects a receding hairline to be the cause. Whatever the reason, Chad always has a chip on his shoulder.

He seems to be compensating for something. Although what he could be compensating for, as a white male in today’s economy, Seokjin has no idea.

“Hey.” Voice lowering, Chad nods towards the food court. “I know something which might cheer you up.”

Seokjin straightens when he realizes Chad is staring at you. Anything which cheers Chad up could only have the opposite effect upon Seokjin.

“What?” Seokjin asks, suspicious.

Chad leans in. “You know the bitch who ruined our display a few days ago?”

Seokjin’s jaw tightens, hearing you called a bitch. “What about it?”

“Ha.” Chad laughs, not hearing the clear warning in Seokjin’s tone. “Don’t worry about paying her back. I got this.”

Alarm bells go off in Seokjin’s mind. “What do you mean by, ‘I got this?’”

“Let’s just say it’s taken care of.”

“No.” Seokjin drops his phone, standing up from his chair. “Let’s say more. What the fuck did you do, Chad?”

Chad blinks at him in surprise. “Whoa – chill, dude. What’re you pissed about?”

Seokjin pauses, uncertain. It is not as though he knows you, not really. But still – Seokjin remembers how sincere you looked that day, apologizing for the display. You did not mean to injure their kiosk; he knows that much.

“Chad…” Seokjin mutters in warning.

He does not get further before screams erupt from the food court. Seokjin’s head whips sideways, spotting the source of the commotion. Once again, a drone is loose in the mall. Like two days prior, a rogue helicopter flies over the food court. It seems out of control, dive-bombing people at random and sending them running.

Seokjin’s mouth drop. Before he can move, the drone careens towards the ground. A girl stands alone next to the frozen yogurt place, holding her cone and staring at it in terror. Her eyes widen, fixed on the drone and Seokjin moves on instinct, darting into the crowd.

Before he can arrive, the girl’s mom appears to yank her to safety. Her cone spills in the process, mint chocolate chip on the ground, but at least the helicopter misses, swooping and diving again. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, realizing the drone moves much too fast to be out of control.

Glancing around, Seokjin realizes Chad is on his phone. When he sees Seokjin looking, Chad waves at him with a grin.

Seokjin’s stomach heaves. Before he can move, you are barreling towards him.

“YOU!” you yell, pointing a finger. Several people between you look up in surprise.

Seokjin blinks, also pointing at himself. “Me?”

“You!” you gasp, skidding to a stop. “What the hell did you do to my drone?”

You are holding several remotes in your fist, Seokjin realizes. Apparently, none of them are working. The helicopter swoops dangerously close to you both and Seokjin ducks out of the way.

“What did I do?” he blurts, staring upwards. “You think I’m the one behind this?”

“No, shit!” you yell, dodging the drone.

“Y/N, I –” The chopper dive-bombs again and Seokjin groans. This is not going to make you believe him, but he needs to do something before someone gets hurt. “Fuck it!” he yells and takes off.

Sprinting away, Seokjin hears you yelling behind him. Ignoring you, Seokjin leaps onto a table. He is not sure how Chad is controlling the helicopter – possibly from his phone, but Seokjin would not put it past him to have someone stationed elsewhere in the mall. Based on the depth of his vengeance on Twitter, Seokjin imagines Chad to be petty.

All Seokjin knows is he needs to stop the drone and a sure-fire way of doing that is getting the drone from the air.

Above, the drone does a loop before dive-bombing a cluster of girls exiting the lingerie store. The girls squeal, scatting in every direction as the helicopter pulls from its spiral. Leaping into the air, Seokjin’s fingers barely brush a wing before falling back to the ground.

“SEOKJIN, GET BACK HERE!”

Ignoring you, Seokjin continues pursuing the drone. “Sorry!” he yells, dodging a woman. “Y/N, this isn’t what it looks like!”

Your footsteps pound behind him, catching up. “It looks like you hijacked one of your drones!”

“See!” Seokjin glances over his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t what it looks like!”

“Huh?”

“Aha!” Seokjin leaps into the air. Fuck – he barely misses. Crashing again to the ground, Seokjin takes off running. He uses his next jump to leap onto a table.

A guy looks up from his hot dog, mustard dribbled onto his chin. “What the f –”

Seokjin leaps into the air, fingers grazing the wing of the helicopter. Eyes narrowed, Seokjin swears as his heels hit the ground. A mother nearby covers the ears of her child.

“Sorry!” Seokjin yells in response.

A hand grabs his arm. “Kim Seokjin!” you blurt, whirling him sideways to face you.

Seokjin glances over your shoulder in distress. “It’s getting away!” he blurts, shaking free to sprint towards the fro-yo.

Your mouth drops, but you follow. “What are you doing?”

Not having the breath to answer, Seokjin runs faster. For the first time in his life, he is grateful Jungkook pushes him so hard at the gym. Jumping again in the air, Seokjin thinks he has done it – until you jump suddenly in front of him, swatting his hand.

“Hey!” Seokjin yelps, stumbling as he hands. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

“Mine!” you yell, darting forward.

“Wait – Y/N!”

Grumbling, he chases after you. The two of you must look ridiculous, racing around the food court. As you pass Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin swears he can hear Yoongi cracking up at the register.

One second, you are ahead of him and the next, Seokjin is. He runs faster, pumping his arms as he spots the drone by the fountain. Cutting you off, Seokjin puts on a sudden burst of speed and leaps into the air. His fingers wrap around metal, yanking the helicopter from the sky. As he descends, Seokjin cannot help but laugh – until your hand finds his elbow, pulling him sideways.

Seokjin yelps, stumbling when his feet hit the concrete.

There is a dangerous, teetering moment where you both hover at the edge of the fountain – and then he falls, taking you with. Seokjin yelps, soaked to the skin when a water jet hits his face. A second splash follows as your butt hits the water.

If feels like a scene from a movie; that moment when a song cuts at a party. One second, everything is happening and the next – nothing.

Slowly, Seokjin pushes himself to sit in the water. The trickling sound of the fountain fills his ears, one of his hands resting on something which is definitely not a penny.

“Gross,” Seokjin groans, seeing the wad of pink gum.

His pants are soaked, so is his shirt and Seokjin does not even want to imagine the state of his hair. Removing his hand from the water gum, Seokjin looks up.

You glare back at him, making Seokjin recoil.

At least the drone is down.

Seokjin can see its red wings submerged in the water, bobbing genteelly in the waves of the fountain. Slowly, the sounds of the mall filter back in. Someone nearby snickers and someone else starts to clap. In his peripheral, Seokjin can see a few teenagers recording and slowly, he closes his eyes. If he goes viral, there is no way his manager will keep him.

You seem to realize the same thing, glancing around you in panic. Seokjin realizes your situation is noticeably worse than his, since you were wearing a white t-shirt when you fell. The material sticks to your skin, making each curve of your body apparent.

Seokjin swallows, understanding crashing into him with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt.

He likes you.

Fuck. Seokjin likes you, and he is a giant idiot.

Snickering at the food court grabs Seokjin’s attention. It appears he is not the only one to have noticed your shirt. At least your bra is white, but this does not seem to matter to fifteen-year-old boys.

Glancing down, you inhale and cover your chest. Seokjin awkwardly tries to stand, rushing forward to help but slips in the process, nearly falling again. It does not seem as though you desire his help anyways, springing to your feet with tears in your eyes.

Teeth chattering, you hold one hand before you. “Stay away,” you blurt, wet strands of hair plastered against your face. As though unable to help yourself, your lower lip quivers. “I fucking mean it, Seokjin. Stay away from me.”

Seokjin’s feet falter beneath him. “I…” Staring at you, he slowly nods in defeat. “Okay.”

You bend, scooping the helicopter into your arms before turning away.

Giving him another scowl, you climb from the fountain. Your sneakers make squishing noises against the linoleum as you stalk through the food court. Seokjin continues to stand there, ignoring the water jets which repeatedly hit his kneecaps.

His stomach sinks, watching you disappear.

Logically, Seokjin should go and find mall security. He should explain to them what happened before they find him, or worse – before he goes viral on the web. Less logically, Seokjin wants to run after you. He cannot simply leave things between you like that.

At the very least, he should find you a dry t-shirt. Maybe Hoseok could get him one from Foot Locker.

Because this is partly his fault. Seokjin was not the one who took over the drone and he did not push you into the fountain, but you only reacted that way because of how Seokjin has treated you. It was not a wild leap of thought to assume Seokjin was the culprit.

Before he can think about this further, a laugh breaks through the crowd. Turning around, Seokjin sees Chad running towards him.

“Wow.” Chad skids to a stop at the fountain. “That was incredible. Did you see how wet she was? And guess who got it all on camera?” He winks, waving his phone.

“Did you?” Seokjin speaks pleasantly, although he is starting to see red. “Can I see that?”

“Sure.” Chad grins, handing over the phone.

Accepting the object, Seokjin promptly throws this into the fountain.

Chad’s mouth drops open. “What the fuck?” he blurts, watching the metal sink to the bottom.

Seokjin brushes off his hands. “You’re fired,” he says, stepping out of the fountain. Water drips from his shirt, splashing the ground at his feet.

Chad’s eyes bug. “You can’t fire me, asshole. You’re not my manager.”

“Maybe not.” Seokjin shrugs and walks past. His hands open and close, curling into fists. “But he likes me better than you and he’ll believe me when I say this was your fault.”

“You dick!”

“That’s right,” Seokjin mutters. He glances at your kiosk, only to find it empty – Brandi must be helping you to clean up. Something twinges in his chest, knowing this is partly his fault. “I guess I am.”

One week later, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you.

He tries to forget. Truly, he does but this proves itself to be more difficult than he realized. Seokjin did not understand before, how deeply you integrated yourself in his life. He did not realize how much he looked forward each day to your banter, to hearing your laugh whenever he passed by your kiosk. The past month has been bearable only because of your presence.

Slumped at the counter of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin stares forlornly across the food court.

“Either smile or move.”

Seokjin turns to Yoongi in confusion. “Huh?”

“Either smile,” Yoongi repeats. “Or move. You’re bumming out all my customers.”

Seokjin glances at the empty food court before him. It is 10:00 AM. “What customers?”

“Exactly. All my customers are scared off by how sad you are.”

Seokjin manages a weak chuckle. “Trust me, my face is not what’s driving your customers away. If anything, it’s your latest SoundCloud mix.”

Yoongi frowns, perturbed. “Take that back.”

Seokjin winces, seeing the genuine hurt on his face. “Sorry, man,” he mumbles. “I’m just not in a great mood today.”

“No shit.”

Seokjin cracks a smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Much in the same way climate change is obvious to everyone but the Cheeto.”

Stifling a laugh, Seokjin quickly sobers. “I just… I don’t know. I thought she’d hear me out, at least.”

The entire past week, Seokjin has parked at the opposite end of the mall from your kiosk. It makes his morning walk shorter, but somehow lonelier.

“So, this is about her, huh?” Yoongi lowers his elbows to the counter. “She’s gone incommunicado.”

“Yeah, it’s about her. I guess I can’t really blame her for being mad at me.”

“No?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “I was kind of a dick.”

Yoongi snorts. “She was a dick, too.”

“Yeah, but I started it.” Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “I was the one who approached her all weird, called her the competition. That set a tone.”

“Okay.” Yoongi tilts his head, thinking. “So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

“I’m going to do nothing about it.”

“Then stop complaining to me.”

“I’m not complaining!” Seokjin looks up and sighs. “Alright, maybe I’m complaining a little. I just… wish I’d realized I liked her sooner.”

“Who cares about that? Tell her now!”

“But she hates me.”

“She hated you then!”

Seokjin glares and takes another sip of his coffee – sputtering, he chokes, “Oh, shit – that’s hot.”

“Hey.” Yoongi gives him a look. “She thinks you messed with her job. That’s way different than wearing tight pants, or putting on a fidget show, or whatever.”

“Fidget spinner show, Yoongi. Fidget show sounds like something else.”

“Both are lame,” Yoongi says. “And my point still stands. She’s mad at you now because of something you didn’t do. Now, move your elbow – I need to clean that spot before lunch.”

Seokjin obliges, dutifully removing himself from the counter. Drinking his coffee, he stares out at the food court. Up until now, Seokjin thought he was doing the noble thing. He was respecting your wishes by giving you space. You said you did not wish to see him again.

Yoongi is right, though. You said all that laboring under a misconception. More than respecting the words said in anger, perhaps it is better for Seokjin to tell you the truth. Maybe pretending to be noble is just another way of chickening out.

Because if Seokjin explains everything to you and you still do not care, it means he is alone in all this. His feelings are one-sided and everything before now was merely a rivalry. The spark Seokjin feels when he looks at you, the burning desire to kiss you – if you knew all that and still hated him, then Seokjin would be alone.

Seokjin exhales and looks up. “Gotta go,” he says, slapping the counter. “See you after your shift?’

“Wait!” Yoongi catches his arm before Seokjin can leave. “Bracelet buddies?” he grins, holding up the pink cat charm wound around his wrist.

Seokjin groans, dutifully rolling up his sleeve to showcase the pale pink alpaca. “Bracelet buddies,” he says glumly.

Yoongi gave him the gift several days ago; payback, he said, for all the women Seokjin has sent his way with the promise of a free pretzel. That used to be Seokjin’s way of scoring dates at the mall. At least, before he met you. Seokjin is obligated to wear said bracelet for three months, or else Yoongi will send their friends pictures of him sleeping with his mouth open on the couch.

If he is being honest, Seokjin does not entirely hate the bracelet. The alpaca is kind of cute, but Yoongi cannot ever know that. Waving goodbye, he manages to scowl and keep up appearances when he heads towards his kiosk.

For the next several days, Seokjin continues to wimp out.

Kind of.

While he does not actually explain what happened, he tries to make up for it in other ways. On Monday, he overhears you telling the Kay Jewelers girl the legs of your stool are too short. As a result, Seokjin volunteers to work late and stays long after closing. Before he leaves, he goes to your kiosk and switches your stool for his.

On Thursday morning, your shifts overlap. Seokjin sees you yawn passing his kiosk, mentioning to Brandi you did not sleep well the night prior. Ducking behind his counter, Seokjin does not make eye contact.

Still, he stops by Java Joe’s on his break and begs Taehyung for coffee.

Taking the long way back through the mall, Seokjin visits your kiosk. It is the first time he has tried talking to you since the Great Fountain debacle. As you come into view, Seokjin swallows and forces the words from his lips.

“Hey.” He comes to a stop at the register.

You freeze when you see him. “Um. Hi?”

Seokjin holds the coffee tray out like a shield. “I was at Java Joe’s and Taehyung brewed too much espresso. Lisa doesn’t drink it, so I was wondering if you wanted it?”

Your lips part, staring at him for a moment.

When you do not immediately respond, Seokjin starts to sweat. “You don’t have to take it,” he says quickly. “I can give it to someone else. It’s too much for me though, and you were on the way back from the shop…”

Trailing off, Seokjin wonders if this entire endeavor is foolish. The tray he is holding is full – four, small cups of espresso which cost an hour of pay. Of course, you do not need to know that. You only need to know that he thought of you.

“I – yeah,” you say slowly, reaching out for a cup. “Thanks, Seokjin.”

Seokjin blinks, since your response was almost cordial. Before he can get too excited about this, Brandi appears.

“Wow, thanks!” she enthuses, grabbing a cup. “That was so nice of you to do this.”

“Right.” Seokjin deflates just a little. It is not as if he does not want Brandi to have espresso, but he was hoping for a shared moment with you. “Just spreading the love – or caffeine, as it were. Anyways…” His laughter trails off, gaze darting to you. “Guess I have one more cup to distribute. Enjoy!”

He turns around too fast for you to respond.

Each step he takes, Seokjin half-expects to hear you call out behind him. If this were pre-Fountain Incident, you probably would have. An insult, or horrible pun – something to let Seokjin know you were watching him walk away, but now there is only silence.

This goes on for a week. Seokjin continues to do nice things for you, passing by in the hopes you will say hi. He holds his breath and hopes you will speak first, but it seems you are determined to continue icing him out.

Seokjin supposes he cannot blame you for this. It is not as though you were friends, after all.

He has almost accepted the idea that you will continue being strangers when one day, Seokjin looks up and finds you at the register.

All words instantly die in his throat.

If he thought he was in the process of getting over you, Seokjin was sorely mistaken. The days of silence have not lessened his want, but only intensified it. It makes him swallow, uncertain, which must be a first. Out of all his friends, Seokjin is not the one to call shy.

Tentatively, you smile and Seokjin realizes he still has not spoken.

“H-hi,” he stammers.

Your shoulders seem to relax at his nervousness. “Hi. Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Seokjin says, slamming his register shut. “Lisa is on break, but it’s been a slow afternoon.”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Same. Guess we finally found those lulls you were on about.”

Seokjin chuckles under his breath. The space between you falls silent again.

“I, uh…” Twisting your hands before you, you seem unsure what to say. “I haven’t seen you around, lately.”

Seokjin’s heart stutters. “Oh. I guess.”

“That’s kind of my fault,” you say. Seokjin’s gaze drops to your hands, which continue to twist. He finds the gesture oddly endearing. “I was the one who told you to stay away.”

Arching a brow, Seokjin turns towards the register. He does not know what to say without being rude. Yes, seems like the most obvious answer, but that could be construed as impolite. Casually, he sneaks a peek sideways. You are right, though – this is partly your fault, also. Even if the other fault is his own.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I don’t blame you for saying that, though.”

“You don’t?”

Curiosity laces your tone and Seokjin looks up, surprised to see a question mark in your gaze.

“Brandi told me Chad was fired,” you add.

Seokjin stills. “Yeah. He was.”

You pause, as though waiting for an explanation. When none comes, you narrow your eyes. “He was the one who messed with that drone, wasn’t he? Not you.”

“I – yeah, I guess so.”

Exasperation enters your gaze. “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did!” Seokjin protests. “I told you when we were chasing after the drone and you didn’t believe me!”

“Oh,” you say, wilting a bit. “Right.”

Seeing your face, Seokjin softens. “Look, it’s not a big deal.”

“Is it?” you ask in disbelief. “I yelled at you in front of the entire mall for something you didn’t do, and you’re saying its fine?”

Seokjin’s lips quirk. “Well, when you put it like that.”

When you roll your eyes at the ceiling, he laughs. Weirdly, it feels good to have you disparage him a little. It feels as though you are on even footing again.

“I mean, it’s not like we were friends,” Seokjin continues. “Why wouldn’t you think it was me?”

“Hm.” You blink, taken aback. “I guess you’re right.”

After another long moment, Seokjin adds, “We could try to be friends now, though. If you want.”

You bite down on your lip. “Are you giving me a formal offer, Seokjin? Should I sign on the dotted line somewhere?”

“I can make a contract if you want. All good peace treaties are in writing.”

“Is that what this is? A peace treaty?”

“Of a sort.” Seokjin raises a brow. “I can’t promise to stop kicking your ass in sales, though. I was born talented.”

“Or, maybe it’s Maybelline,” you shoot back. “I wouldn’t want you to stop, though. It’s been too quiet around here without you blasting Backstreet Boys.”

“Liked what you heard?”

“Who doesn’t like Backstreet Boys?”

“Monsters.”

“Agreed.”

“Wow.” Seokjin’s brow furrows. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever agreed with me.”

“I know.” After a moment, you frown. “It’s oddly unsettling.”

Seokjin laughs – a short, surprised burst which makes you smile. “Well...” Trailing off, he finds himself unsure what more to say. “Is that why you came over?”

“Let’s see.” You lift a hand, ticking things off on your fingers. “Tell you I know you didn’t sabotage my job. Check. Ask to be friends? Check. Oh,” you add, as though only remembering. “There was something else I wanted to say.

Seokjin waits, holding his breath as you start to lean in.

Angelic, you smile. “I lied before,” you say. “We aren’t having a lull. See you around!”

Dropping a wink, you turn to walk across the food court. Seokjin watches you go, legs having effectively turned to jelly in your presence. It is unfair that you have this effect on him. Slowly, he lowers himself onto his stool. It would seem the two of you are friends now.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Seokjin wonders what he has gotten himself into.

Over the next couple of weeks, Seokjin stops by your kiosk more often. He learns your usual morning coffee order – a grande iced Americano – and occasionally brings it along. You seem to have switched to the morning shift, he notices. Before, it was about fifty-fifty which time of the day you showed up.

At some point, Seokjin explains about his former job and current app development side projects. This turns into a running joke of him bouncing ideas off you.

“Okay,” you say, folding your hands across a wan food court table.

Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, what’s today’s app idea?”

Seokjin snorts. It is 10:00 AM and neither of you must be at your shift yet but somehow, you both managed to arrive early.

“What about this?” Seokjin leans back in his chair. “Angry birds, but – instead of birds, its photos of friends that you upload yourself.”

“Pass.”

“Hm. A Bachelorette fantasy league app?”

“Hard no.”

“Okay, so this one is a kid’s game.”

“Go on.”

“A kid’s game where you change the oil of your dad’s car as fast as you can.”

You snort, nearly spilling your drink. “Seokjin! That’s a terrible app idea.”

“Bonus points if you spill no oil on the driveway!”

“Seokjin!”

He grins. “Yeah, Yoongi said it was bad, too. I don’t get it.”

“Please.” Shaking your head, your smile fades the longer you look at him. “I don’t believe any of those are your actual idea, though.”

“Huh?” Seokjin blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Those are just the ideas you tell people to make them laugh,” you observe. “It gets them off your back, so you don’t have to say your actual idea. You know, the one you really care about.”

Seokjin pauses, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You arch a brow. “I get it. That’s how I am with my writing. Freelance doesn’t exactly pay for dreams, does it? I tend to downplay my favorite ideas, so then if they don’t work out – hey, at least it wasn’t something I cared about. You know?”

Seokjin is not quite sure how to respond. In only a few sentences, you have looked inside him and summarized his thoughts. No one – not even Yoongi, whom Seokjin has known for years – is able to read him as well.

Inhaling gently, Seokjin leans back from the table. “Well,” he admits. “There is this one idea.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Seokjin considers where to begin. “Do you know what fair lending is?”

“Not really, no.”

“It’s the unbiased treatment of customers by banks.” Seokjin pauses and, when you do not seem bored with the topic, begins to speak freely. “It ensures financial institutions provide uniform services, regardless of bias.”

“Gotcha. So, it’s like equal opportunity but for banks?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Seokjin exhales. “Basically, I want to create a fair lending app. There is a lot out there to help with credit decisions and stuff, but I want to put it all in one place. I want to break down the ‘non-biased metrics’ banks use and warn people how there could be bias involved.”

Your frown. “What do you mean?”

“Take income, for example.” Seokjin grips his cup tighter. “The vast majority of people below the poverty line are minorities. So, if a bank has a hard and fast income requirement for a loan, they inadvertently discriminate. It’s why a variety of factors are mandated to assist in … what?” Seokjin blinks, seeing you staring. “What is it?”

Hiding a smile, you shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just a cool idea. I think you should do it.”

“But then who will make bachelorette fantasy app?” Seokjin jokes, ducking his head.

“Someone else.” You wait until he looks up. “Do the fair lending app.”

Seokjin finds he cannot think of another joke. “Alright,” he says slowly. “It’s a plan.”

You nod, sipping your coffee as silence falls in between you. It is unnerving, how easy it is for Seokjin to talk to you. With most people, it takes him a while to show his true colors but with you, he finds he cannot be anyone else.

Glancing at his watch, Seokjin realizes how late it is. “Shit,” he mutters, jumping out of his seat. “It’s nearly 10:30.”

You wince, standing as well. “Damn, do you have to open today?”

“Unfortunately so.” Seokjin grabs his coffee. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay, Y/N?”

“Okay,” you say, waving when he turns out of sight.

Seokjin does not hesitate to walk away. He curses himself the entire way to his kiosk because he is becoming much too comfortable with being your friend. Enough that he keeps catching himself thinking about more.

It is hard not to think about his hands wrapped around yours on your coffee cup. Hard not to imagine carpooling with you in his car to work. Seokjin tries to be on his best behavior but still, the fantasies worm their way in.

It is why he has created several rules of conduct around you. First and foremost is never stay for too long. The second Seokjin feels himself becoming attached, he leaves. Like now, for instance. Seokjin does not really have to be at the kiosk before eleven but the way you were looking at him made his heart beat out of his chest.

Self-preservation, he reminds himself.

The rules are working until Taehyung throws a party.

“Saturday night,” Taehyung grunts, slamming Seokjin’s coffee order on the counter.

Seokjin blinks, reaching up to take both cups. Lately, Taehyung has been in the worst kind of mood. This mostly seems to stem from his hot co-worker who will not take him seriously. All the guys in the mall gave him shit about it before, but the kid really does seem to like her. Which sucks, since Taehyung has a reputation and the pretty barista clearly has heard of it.

“The party is at your place?” asks Seokjin, glancing up at the counter.

Taehyung nods. Loud enough for his co-worker to hear, he adds, “The party will be at my place this weekend! Can’t wait to see you there, Seokjin!”

Seokjin snorts, shaking his head. “You’re whipped, man,” he whispers. Then, loud enough for the female barista to hear, he adds, “I’ll be there! In fact, everyone should come!”

The girl does not react, busy at the register and Seokjin shrugs.

Sorry man, he mouths to Taehyung before pushing open the door. Making his way through the mall, Seokjin walks past your kiosk – only to see you deep in conversation with another guy. Seokjin does not recognize him as your co-worker, but he does recognize him from the gym.

Occasionally, Jungkook talks to him before they work out. Seokjin never found the guy threatening before.

Seeing him now though, the oddest sensation unfurls in his stomach. He does not want you talking to this guy – the desire flashes through Seokjin’s mind faster than he can stop it. Before he can turn around and leave though, before Seokjin can separate himself from the situation, you look up and smile.

“Hey, Seokjin!”

“Hey, Y/N.” Plastering a smile on his face, Seokjin forces himself to walk towards your kiosk. “And you are…?” he asks, looking at the stranger.

The guy grins, unconcerned. “Hey, I’m Josh.”

“Cool.” Seokjin returns to looking at you. “Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this weekend, Y/N?”

Everyone at the mall knows who Taehyung is. He is a staple for anyone who drinks coffee – and chances are, if you have stopped by Java Joe’s in the past three days, you are invited.

Your eyes widen. “I was thinking about it.”

“Cool.” Seokjin casually leans an elbow against your kiosk. He forgets about the wheels though, and as a result, the entire thing starts to move. Frantically attempting to right this, Seokjin nearly spills his coffee in the process.

“Anyways…” he mutters, ears turning scarlet.

You clamp your lips tightly together. “So, you’re going to be there?”

Seokjin nods. He has no idea what he is doing. He has no idea what Josh is doing, since he has not said a word since introducing himself.

Glancing at him now, Seokjin is reminded of Chad. Not because the two look anything alike, but because they both have that air about them. That condescending, could-bench-press-you-in-seconds look. Seokjin bets that, at some point in the past ten days, Josh has worn a snapback.

You are standing close very close to him, though. Seokjin cannot ignore this fact.

“Cool.” Your gaze lingers on his. “Then, I guess I’ll see you there?”

Seokjin nods. “Guess so. We’ll see!”

He turns, walking away and overhears Josh ask you details about the party. Gritting his teeth, Seokjin uncurls his hands from their fists. You are not his to be jealous of, he reminds himself. He has no right to be angry if you decide to date someone else. But still, Seokjin’s mood remains sour for the rest of the day.

You do not visit at the end of your shift. If could be because you are genuinely busy. Or, it could be something else. Or, someone.

Seokjin has the next two days off. He uses them to work on his fair lending app, getting a good bit of coding done in his apartment. Your voice plays in his mind as he works, telling him to go for what he wants.

Seokjin is tired of working at the Fidget Funk. He is tired of waking up every morning, going to a job he hates and feeling as though he is doing nothing with his life. What was supposed to be a temp job has stretched into months and Seokjin needs to act for anything about this to change.

There is only so long he can complain before doing something about it.

He wants to do what he loves; wants to do something he cares about – not this. Sometimes, making that decision is the hardest part.

The night of the party, Seokjin drives there with Yoongi. Yoongi, surprisingly agrees to come with little coercion. Usually, Seokjin needs to drag his taciturn roommate to social events. He was easily convinced tonight though, which results in Seokjin being more nervous than normal.

As they enter Taehyung’s apartment, he pauses on the threshold.

If he had your number, he would have texted to see if you were coming, but Seokjin does not and so, he could not. Wandering into the room, Seokjin winces when no one removes their shoes. Parties are always strangely barbaric in that regard.

Taehyung’s apartment with his roommate, Jimin, is much larger than his. Seokjin remembers Taehyung saying Jimin came from money but does not remember specifics. Jimin is a night nurse at NorthShore Medical center and often stops by Java Joe’s in the morning for coffee. Other than that, Seokjin does not know much about him.

Walking inside, Seokjin realizes Taehyung has downplayed Jimin’s wealth. There is no way they could afford this place on a nurse and barista salary. A bunch of people are outside – because there is an outside; a large balcony overlooking the city – chatting about nothing over the rims of their drinks.

Yoongi disappears as soon as they enter, heading off to god-knows-where. He leaves Seokjin alone, who shifts his weight about nervously. Glancing up, he spots Namjoon in the kitchen and hastily rushes towards him. Finally, a familiar face.

“Joon!” he calls out.

Namjoon waves, re-filling the cup in his hand. When Seokjin reaches his side, he hands another to Seokjin. “Hey,” Namjoon nods. “You just get here?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin scans the party again, red cup in one hand. “Is everything c –”

Cutting himself off mid-sentence, Seokjin stares when you walk into the room. Everything he wanted to say falls from his brain to the floor. It is not unlike that one scene in She’s All That, when Laney comes down the stairs and Freddie Prinze Jr. loses his mind. Seokjin cannot think, looking at you.

A red cup is in your hand, matching the red gloss on your lips and god, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about kissing it off.

He swallows, hard – and then notices the guy at your side.

You laugh, turning sideways to Josh. Because that is who it is, of course – the same muscle- bound jock you were talking to at the drone kiosk earlier.

Jungkook appears as well, clapping Josh on the shoulder. Seokjin scowls, swallowing a larger sip of his drink than intended. First, this guy tries to steal his girl and now, his best friend. Eyes widening, Seokjin straightens. Shit, you are not his girl. He needs to stop thinking that way.

“Seokjin?”

Seokjin realizes Namjoon is staring at him. “Uh, yeah?”

“You trailed off in the middle of a sentence and have been hard-core staring at that girl ever since. Is – oh!” Namjoon’s eyes light up. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

“That’s who?” Seokjin hastily swallows his drink.

“The girl! Fountain girl!” Namjoon shoves him. “The one you’re head over heels for!”

“Okay, fountain girl is a horrible way of describing her. And yeah, maybe that’s – shit, shut up,” Seokjin hisses. “She’s coming this way.”

Namjoon snorts into his drink. You are, indeed, waking towards them but Josh is no longer beside you. Craning his neck, Seokjin looks over your shoulder but does not see the guy anywhere.

“Hey.” You come to a stop right before them, glancing at Namjoon. “Namjoon, right?”

Namjoon sticks out a hand. “Yep. Y/N?”

You take this, stifling a smile as you shake. “Yeah.”

“And, of course, you know Seokjin.” Namjoon grins at Seokjin’s flustered expression.

“Uh-huh,” you say, offering him a tentative smile. “We go way back.”

Feeling somewhat nauseous, Seokjin takes another sip of his drink. “Y/N and I are friends.”

A flash of something – uncertainty? Annoyance? – crosses your features. “Right,” you say carefully. “Friends.”

Your expression remains stubborn though, and Seokjin wonders if he has done something wrong. Changing the subject, he glances around the apartment. “Have you been here before, Y/N?”

“No,” you confess. “But damn – which roommate won the lottery?”

Seokjin grins. “I know, right? I can show you around if you want.”

You blink, taken aback by his offer and Seokjin wonders if that was too forward. Well, fuck it – he is not getting anywhere by being subtle.

“Yeah,” you say, recovering yourself. “I’d like that.”

Pushing himself off the counter, Seokjin says goodbye to Namjoon and plunges into the party. He continues to look for hot gym guy, Josh, but does not see him anywhere. It is unlikely you came here together, but not impossible. Perhaps the two of you are dating. Perhaps you like him and want to date him in the future.

Seokjin is so busy running through what-if scenarios, he does not notice you looking at him.

“Right, so Taehyung and Jimin’s rooms are that way.” Seokjin leads through the crowd. “Aka, that hall is off limits. This is the living area and well, you already saw the balcony.” Steps faltering, Seokjin looks sideways at you. “Did you see the balcony?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“Scared of heights?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, then you’re lucky.” Seokjin mutters, pushing open the sliding glass door. “Luck you never met that dick, Jared Karinsky.”

Laughing, you follow him out on the balcony. There are only a few other people outside and, once the door slides shut, it feels as though you are trapped in another world.

“Who’s Jared Karinksy?”

Glowering, Seokjin takes a sip of his drink. “Some dick who knew I didn’t like heights, but still brought me to the top of the jungle gym. Then, he left me there. It took two hours for my brother to find me and get me back down.”

Laughing, you lean against the railing. “I take it that didn’t help?”

“It did not,” says Seokjin. “If anything, my fear was worse after.”

You grin, draining the rest of your cup as the wind ruffles your hair. It makes Seokjin’s heart ache a bit to look at.

“Well, I have to say –”

The glass door slides open, interrupting whatever you were about to say. Josh’s head pops out. “Y/N!” he grins. “I was looking for you.”

You slowly turn towards the interruption. “I... oh. Hey, Josh.”

“Are you busy?” Josh glances between you and Seokjin.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Seokjin feels oddly foolish. It seems obvious now, that you came here with Josh. You must have been making a beeline for drinks when you ran into Seokjin in the kitchen. Seokjin assumed, then. He thought you were free. When he grabbed you, he was yanking you away from the guy you really wanted to be with.

“Not busy.” Seokjin drains the rest of his cup. “Not busy at all. Have fun,” he mutters, brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door.

When he leaves, Seokjin does not look back and so, he does not see your lips part. He does not watch you stare after him with equal parts frustration and anger. All Seokjin sees is the kitchen before him, full of alcohol for him to consume. Alcohol he will need to get through the rest of this party.

He is almost to the kitchen when a hand grips his arm, yanking him around. “What the fuck was that?” you say, brows furrowed.

Seokjin stares at you, alarmed you are in such close proximity. “I – huh? What the fuck was what?”

You scowl, leaning in and Seokjin leans back. “That!” you demand, waving vaguely at the balcony. “Why did you run away?”

“Run away?” Seokjin’s gaze darts towards the offending location. “I thought you wanted to talk to that guy?”

“Why would you think that?” you ask, brows furrowing further.

“I…” Seokjin finds himself at a loss. “I don’t know. Didn’t you come here with him?”

“With Josh?” You wrinkle your nose. “You mean – my cousin, Josh?”

“…cousin?”

You nod, looking at him incredulously. “You thought I wanted to talk to my cousin, Josh, as opposed to you?”

A lightbulb clicks in Seokjin’s mind. “I – he’s your cousin?”

“Yes, he’s my cousin.” Scowling, you take a step closer. “But even if he weren’t, why would you just leave like that? We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“I don’t know!” he blurts, gaze narrowing at your tone.

Out of the two of you, Seokjin is the one with the right to be angry. You are the one looking so damn good tonight and currently yelling at him for something he does not understand.

Vaguely aware they should not have this argument in the middle of Taehyung and Jimin’s kitchen, Seokjin grabs your wrist and tugs you into the hall. The forbidden one, next to the bedrooms. Realizing this, Seokjin keeps going and decides to beg forgiveness later.

Dropping your arm, he whirls around to find you mere inches away.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” he accuses, pointing a finger. “For that matter – why didn’t you ask if I was going to the party tonight? If my presence is so important to you.”

Glaring at him, you bat his finger away. “You asked me first! Besides, I thought it was obvious I wanted you here. You know… because of the… and…”

“Because of the what?”

Somehow, you have gotten very close to Seokjin. The tips of your toes are just brushing his. Electricity crackles between you, making Seokjin’s heartbeat oddly erratic.

Glowering, your gaze darts to his lips. “Oh – seriously? Shut up and kiss me, you ass!”

Grabbing your face, Seokjin does just that. His lips crash into yours, the kiss muffled and urgent as he backs you to the wall. You groan, hands fisting in the back of his t-shirt. Seokjin cannot think beyond his hand resting on your jaw, then sliding into your hair, then moving down to your ass.

He cups you against him, head reeling from the sudden warmth of your mouth, your body and the urgency of your touch. Seokjin has never wanted someone so badly. Each brush of your lips leaves him wanting more, an endless desire alight in his veins.

Your mouth opens, tongue flicking with his as Seokjin’s heart nearly explodes. He cannot breathe – each breath mingles with yours, leaving him dizzy and parched.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to lean his arm to the wall.

You stare up at him, breathless and confused. Your chest continues to rise and fall, lips swollen from the wanton press of his mouth. Seokjin cannot look away.

“I…” He exhales, glancing towards the living room. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You nod so fast, you nearly hit your head on his chin. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Seokjin reaches down, grabbing your hand. “You good with my place? It’s only a few minutes drive.”

“Yeah,” you answer, following him down the hall. “Roommate?”

“Here. At the party.”

“Good.”

Dragging you into the foyer, Seokjin digs his phone from his pocket. Letting go of your fingers, he shoots a text off to Yoongi, telling him not to come home. He can face the consequences of that later. Shoving his phone in his pocket, Seokjin opens the door.

“Do you have a coat?” he asks, looking at you.

“Nope. You?”

“Nope.” Seokjin shuts the door to the hall and the noise of the party fades. “This way?”

“Sounds good.”

When you move to walk past, Seokjin grabs your hand – he cannot help himself. Pushing you against the wall, he relishes your muffled exclamation of surprise and kisses you fiercely. Thoroughly. The way he has wanted to for so long.

Hands sliding into your hair, Seokjin feels you arch against him. Your hand is on his hip, pulling him closer and Seokjin cannot stop thinking about your hand on other places.

When he finally breaks away, you stare at his lips. “That’s…” You swallow, voice sounding strangled. “Fuck.”

Seokjin grins. “Come on.”

Grabbing you again, he pulls you into the elevator. The entire way down, the air between you is electric. Seokjin shifts his weight and you follow suit. Raising a hand, you rub the back of your neck. Seokjin’s skin prickles when he sees.

When the door dings, opening into the lobby, you suddenly come to life. Newly determined, your hand wraps around his and pulls Seokjin outside. He practically throws his keys at the valet, wondering how on earth he is going to survive the drive home without touching you. Thank god he only had that one drink tonight. It would have been torture to be so close to fucking you and then not.

Startled by the thought, Seokjin realizes the truth of the matter. He is going to see you naked. Whirling to face you, Seokjin blurts, “This isn’t some random thing. You know that, right?”

Surprised, you glance at him. “I – what?”

“This.” Seokjin steps closer and his peripheral, sees the valet hop out of his car. “I really like you, Y/N.”

Staring up at him, you blink. “You do?”

“Of course, I do! You thought I didn’t?”

“I thought you hated me.”

“Of course, not!” Grabbing his keys from the valet, Seokjin opens the passenger door. He waits until you sit before crossing to the driver’s side. “Why would you think that?” he asks, sliding into the seat.

You stare at him incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Seokjin pulls out of the driveway. “I’ve liked you for so long! I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Uh! Could’ve fooled me.”

“Are you serious? I was such an idiot in front of you! What other explanation is there?”

“That you’re an idiot!” you answer, scowling. “Are you seriously saying that was your idea of flirting?”

“I mean… well, no, but…”

You snort, facing forward. “You’re so bad at this.”

“At what?”

“This!” you insist, gesturing between you.

“Oh, come on! Like you’re Juliet, or something.”

“Who?”

“Juliet! Of Romeo and Juliet!”

“They… Seokjin, they died in the end!” you say incredulously.

“Well, what do I know?” Seokjin makes a sharp right, pulling into his parking lot. “I never finished reading that play, actually – fell asleep a third of the way in. What I’m trying to say is that you’re also shit at this.”

“Oh, really?”

“You said you never wanted to speak to me again,” Seokjin reminds, throwing the car into park.

Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I apologized for that.”

“You were the one who said you wanted to be friends!” Seokjin shoves open his door and exits the vehicle.

You exit as well, slamming the door shut. “Well, it seemed like the next logical step!”

“No.” Seokjin strides forward. Caging you against the car, he growls, “The next logical step would’ve been admitting you liked me, too.”

“Too?” You blink, stuck on the word. “So, you admit you like me?”

“Never said I didn’t.”

These last words are muttered against your lips, Seokjin cutting off further retorts with a kiss.

Arching upwards, your hands twine around his neck. Seokjin’s mind stutters, unsure what to think. His brain is a vague mess of swear words and exclamation points when his lips move against yours. It is hard to grasp the fact that you are here, with him and wanting him the same way he wants you.

Breaking apart, Seokjin rests his forehead to yours. “Okay,” he manages. “I know you said you wanted to leave with me. I know you got in my car and drove all the way here. But – because I want to be sure – do you want to come in?”

Breathlessly, you laugh. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Withdrawing, Seokjin takes your hand. “Then, let’s go.”

Climbing the outdoor stairs to reach his apartment, Seokjin pulls the keys from his pocket so he is prepared to enter. He does not check his phone, certain Yoongi has texted him multiple epithets about where he can stick his ass.

Bracing his hip against his door, Seokjin jiggles the key to shove it open. Once you are both inside, Seokjin half-expects you to wrinkle your nose. It is not as if his and Yoongi’s apartment can ever compete with Jimin and Taehyung’s.

You do none of this, though. Stepping inside, you place your purse on the counter and glance around curiously. “You live with that guy from the food court, right?” you ask, turning around. “Yoongi?”

Stepping forward, Seokjin crushes his mouth to yours.

You inhale, the noise caught by his lips when your hands slide up his back. One of your legs curls around his, rubbing your core against the meat of his thigh. Seokjin’s head spins, gripping your ass to push you against the counter. You make a muffled noise, gasping when Seokjin hardens into your crotch.

It is embarrassing how ready he is for you. All it took where a few whispered words about how badly you want him and here he is, rock-hard and on edge. Admittedly, the noises you make are not helping.

“Shit,” Seokjin breathes, kissing down the slope of your neck.

You arch your throat, allowing more access. Your skin tastes of berries and something else – probably a perfume Seokjin does not know the name of. The warm press of your core to his leg leaves Seokjin reeling.

“My room?” he gasps, hand dragging up your side.

Frantic, you nod. “Yes.”

Bending, Seokjin grips your legs and lifts you against him. He stumbles towards his bedroom, realizing too late you are heavier than he thought. Maybe Jungkook was right about adding weight to his reps. Kissing you again, Seokjin staggers into his bedroom and drops you on the bed.

Laughing, you grab your top to yank overhead. There is some skepticism to your gaze, as though you expected him to fall short in carrying you. Seokjin’s ego flames in response. Growling lowly, he rips off his shirt and descends on the bed. Parting your legs, he presses a kiss to your thigh.

“Take off your jeans.” Seokjin looks up.

You blink. “What?”

“I wanna eat you out.” Seokjin cocks a brow. “Or, is that too much?”

“No,” you glower, undoing your buttons. “Go for it.”

As you shimmy your jeans down your legs, Seokjin’s mouth dries at the sight of your panties. He did not imagine them to be lace. He did not imagine them to be quite as revealing as they are. Slowly, Seokjin reaches out to peel these aside. You inhale, arching on the bed. Seeing your pussy like that, laid out before him, he can hardly breathe.

You are wet for him. Theoretically, this makes sense, but Seokjin did not think he could make you wet. Did not think he would ever see you as drenched as you are, the lace in the middle much damper than the rest. Pressing another kiss to your knee, Seokjin inhales and makes his way higher.

Flicking your clit with his tongue, he teases at more. You mewl, curling inwards and Seokjin pushes your legs down. He sucks the length of your folds, getting you good and wet before he returns to your sex. You arch again, pussy clenching even through there is nothing inside you.

Smirking, Seokjin takes pleasure in this fact. Your folds are glistening, ready even though has not touched you yet. He has not even pushed a finger inside that tight, wet cunt of yours. Lowering his head, Seokjin’s tongue curls over your clit. He turns needy, licking until your hands fist in the sheets on either side of your body.

“Seokjin,” you groan. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Seokjin leisurely sucks on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His other hand drifts to your cunt, tracing in circles.

You moan beneath him on the bed, arching to try and push him inside. Seokjin memorizes the visual – the black lace of your bra barely hiding your nipples, hair splayed on his comforter with his hands on your thighs.

“I need more.”

“Yeah?” Seokjin lazily traces your pussy. “Want me to finger you?’

“Fuck, yes.”

“Mm.” Seokjin sucks your clit until you cry out from pleasure. Releasing you gently, he sits back on his heels to rub with his fingers. “I could probably make you come like this, though.”

Reaching underneath your body, you unhook your bra. Seokjin stares in awe at your chest, bared before him. “Probably,” you agree. “But wouldn’t it be more fun to come inside me?”

Seokjin’s teeth grit, the words going straight to his cock. Already, it pulses against the tight fit of his jeans – when he feels how wet you are, Seokjin cannot stop imagining himself inside you. Grabbing your wrist, he brings your hand to his crotch.

You inhale when you feel how hard he is. “You’re so… big,” you murmur. “Will you even fit?’

Seokjin smirks, bending until his lips cover yours. “Not yet,” he agrees, spreading your legs with one hand. Stroking your center, he wets himself with your arousal. “That’s why I gotta stretch you out first. Get you ready for this dick.”

“O-h,” you gasp, mouth a perfect o as Seokjin’s finger pushes inside.

It is a tight stretch. Seokjin feels a bit light-headed, imagining something so tight and wet wrapped around him. Withdrawing, he pushes a finger inside you again. Rolling your hips, you force Seokjin deeper and he clicks his tongue, hand grabbing your waist.

“You don’t get to be in control,” he instructs, finger sliding back out. Adding another one, he slowly fucks you again. “You just have to lie there and take it.”

“Good,” you breathe, two of his fingers inside you. “Finally. I’ve been wanting you to yank my panties down and fuck me for weeks now.”

Seokjin’s jaw clenches – shaking his head, he is certain he must have misheard. “What?”

A smile curls your lips. “You heard me,” you say sweetly, pussy squelching as Seokjin’s fingers slide in and out. “You’re so hot when you’re mad. Why do you think I teased you so much? Wanted your dick in my mouth to shut me up.”

Heat blazes through Seokjin’s veins. He has never been this turned on in his life – hearing such sinful things from your angelic lips. Sitting back on his heels, Seokjin frantically undoes his jeans.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters, pushing them past his ass.

Yanking out his cock, Seokjin wraps a hand around his girth. He rubs himself roughly, ignoring the pre-cum dripping from his reddened tip. Already, he is steeling himself to not come inside you. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you watch him touching himself, lips parted in awe. Seokjin stares back, realizing you are as tuned on by him as he is by you.

Your gaze darts to his face. “Condom?” you ask, voice unsteady. “I don’t think I’ll last long once you’re inside me.”

Nodding, Seokjin grabs one from his drawer. Ripping open the packet, he rolls this on. Lowering an arm to the bed, Seokjin positions his cock at your core. As badly as he wants to be inside you, there is something so tantalizing about teasing. Spreading your legs, Seokjin rubs his cock to your clit and watches you twitch in response.

“Seokjin,” you groan, arms sliding around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Need you to fuck me so good,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Cock at your entrance, Seokjin slowly pushes inside. “Like that?”

“Mhmm.” You nod, breath hitching slightly. “Like that.”

“There?” Seokjin pushes in a bit more, moaning when your walls flutter around him.

You are squeezing him so fucking tight, Seokjin wonders how much more you can take. He is aware of the fact he is big. It would not be the first time a girl could not take him; would not be the first time he gave up and ate the girl out until she came.

“No!” Eyes flying open, you grab Seokjin’s wrist when he starts to withdraw. Lips parted, you stare at him in a daze. “Please keep going,” you beg. “Don’t wanna stop.”

Seokjin arches a brow. “You sure? Sure it feels good?”

“Good?” You stare at him with a fucked-out expression. “Oh my god.” Wrapping both legs around his waist, you push Seokjin in deeper. “You’re stretching me so good, baby. Can’t wait until you’re pounding this pussy.”

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses, gaze darkening. “I think I somehow got harder.”

“I know,” you laugh, somewhat dreamily. “Felt your cock twitch inside me. So fucking hot.”

Seokjin continues to ease inside you, inch by inch until your eyes start to water. Biting down on your lip, you urge him on and before long, Seokjin bottoms out. He stops there, panting at the feeling of being so deep inside you. Glancing down, Seokjin sees your pussy split by his cock and cannot contain himself any longer. He slowly pulls out.

“What…” Grasping for his ass, you panic a bit. “Seokjin, don’t –”

Grabbing your knee, he slams back inside you. The two of you groan at the same time. Him, because he has never felt anything as tight and wet as your cunt and you because his dick is so large, your body is trembling.

“God.” You fall back on the bed, chest bouncing. “I fucking knew you were big. There was no other way you could be so annoying.”

Seokjin withdraws, reliving the sweet sensation of thrusting his cock in your tight pussy. You are so warm and so wet – now that you have been stretched, you mold easily to him.

“Fuck,” you gasp, lifting your hips to his.

Seokjin toys with you. Slowly sliding in and out, he brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing. “You thought I was annoying, huh?” he breathes, lips hot in your ear.

Nodding, your hands fist in the sheets. “Still do.”

Chuckling, Seokjin captures your lobe with his teeth. His hips roll against you, pressing you into the mattress. “Mm. Know what I think?”

“What?”

“You talk too much. Flip over.”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

“Thought you wanted me to shut you up?” Seokjin presses a sweet kiss to your mouth. “Now, flip over, so I can fuck you senseless.”

Withdrawing, he ignores every inch of him which screams to stay put. It is worth it though, when you finally flip onto your stomach and stick your ass in the air.

Inhaling, Seokjin runs a hand up your drenched pussy. Your lips are swollen, messy with slick from him eating you out. Lifting himself onto his knees, Seokjin grabs his dick and pushes against your center. Slapping your clit a few times, he hisses when he feels you tremble beneath him. Hands soft on your hips, he slides into your cunt.

“Ah!” you gasp, head thrown back from the motion.

Wrapping your hair around his wrist, Seokjin thrusts into you again. He can feel every inch of your cunt, feel the tight squeeze of your walls on his cock. God, you are driving him crazy. Thrusting harder, Seokjin cannot separate the sensations before him.

Your ass pushing back on him, the way your moans fall from your lips. The tight wetness of your heat, his cock disappearing in and out. Leaning down, Seokjin slides an arm around your ribcage and pulls you against him.

He continues to fuck you like that, cock entering your body at a punishing speed. You feel so good pressed against him, nipples hard as they peek through his palms. Seokjin’s lips find your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin.

“Fuck,” you groan, walls tightening around him. Your bodies bang together, his cock fucking you open in a way which barely seems decent. “Fuck – Seokjin – yes! Oh my god, yes.’

“Yeah?” His grip tightens around you. “You about to come on my dick, baby?”

“Yes!” you gasp. He is basically holding you up at this point, fucking you senseless. “Oh – oh! I thought… you – mmph – wanted! Me – fuck! Quiet!”

Chuckling, Seokjin slides a hand between your legs. Finding your clit, he begins to rub with his fingers. “Changed my mind,” he grunts. “Wanna hear you scream my name so loud, you wake all my neighbors.”

“S-Seokjin!”

Your legs start to shake, trembling with your impending orgasm and Seokjin is not doing much better. The only thing holding him back is the intense desire to feel you come wrapped around him.

“C’mon,” he groans, angling his hips even deeper. “Wanna feel this tight, little pussy come on my cock. Can you do that, baby? Can you?”

“Yes,” you gasp and then you are coming undone.

Seokjin groans, biting your shoulder when your pussy clamps down. Your orgasm is so intense, Seokjin is surprised he can keep you against him. Pushed over the edge, Seokjin shudders when he lets go and releases into the condom. It goes on for so long, his cock aching as you take every last bit of him.

Slowly, his hand falls and strokes down your side. Lips brushing your neck, Seokjin exhales and gently withdraws. Everything is over-sensitive, each inch of his body buzzing with satisfaction. Tying the condom into a knot, Seokjin tosses this in the garbage and sees you roll out of bed.

His stomach twists. “Where are you going?” he blurts, wincing at how needy he sounds.

It is only – you look so fucking beautiful. Hair messy and lips swollen, traces of arousal lingering on the inside of your thighs. You smile at him, as if sensing his nervousness.

“Where’s your bathroom?” you ask, sheepish.

Seokjin exhales, relief coursing through him. He points to the left. “Over there,” he says, collapsing on top of the sheets. His dick is limp, soft in his lap, but looking at you, Seokjin is already thinking about more. “Want me to show you?”

“That’s alright,” you laugh, turning around. “I think I can make it to the closet alone.”

Grinning, Seokjin falls back again. “Come back soon.”

“Okay.”

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you sneak another peek before disappearing.

Seokjin stares at his ceiling for a moment before he remembers his roommate. Wincing, he reaches down to fish his phone from his jeans. Unsurprisingly, there are several missed texts from Yoongi.

Yoongi: k lol [11:01 PM]

Yoongi doesn’t matter won’t be sleeping anyways [11:01 PM]

Yoongi: too busy eating dessert ; ) [11:01 PM]

Groaning, Seokjin plugs his phone into his charger. He guesses this means Yoongi found someone else to hook up with. Rolling over in bed, Seokjin starts when you open the door.

“Hey.” You smile, almost embarrassed. Walking towards him, you bend to scoop your underwear from the ground.

“Whoa!” Seokjin blurts, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into the bed before you can get dressed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Putting on clothes,” you laugh, curling into his side. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Mhm.” Seokjin’s nose nuzzles your hair. He is not sure why, but something about this feels right. Having your limbs entwined in his, your hand resting soft on his chest. He feels warm, satisfied by the thought of being near you.

Sleepily, you smile. “I’m not allowed to get dressed tonight, is that it?”

“Nope,” he agrees, heart soaring the longer he looks at you. “Something that good needs repeating.”

Laughing a little, you curl tighter around him. “Does that mean you want to repeat it?” you ask, uncertainty to your voice.

Sliding two fingers under your chin, Seokjin tilts your head up. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “I can’t think of anything I want more, to be honest.”

“I – same.”

Laying your head on his chest, you are quiet for a moment as Seokjin basks in the silence. Then, he exhales and adds, “I mean, aside from trouncing your sales targets, of course. I always want to do that.”

You snort, shoving his side. Seokjin pulls you in closer, grinning widely. It is a lie, of course – right now, there is nothing he wants more than to be with you.

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