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#i mean i don’t go here so it’s kinda getting annoying how much i see it
tymorrowland · 2 years
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damn how many people were at the gerard way concert?
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melzula · 2 months
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I JUMPED WHEN I SAW REQUESTS OPEN
zuko unintentionally saying something he doesn’t mean to reader (ex. ur clingy/annoying) and makes the reader like kinda distant cus they don’t wanna be annoying or clingy yk? then he comforts them and says sorry and it’s very much a angst to fluff moment!
a/n: i love this trope
summary: your sudden disappearance makes zuko reevaluate his behavior
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The apartment is empty when Zuko returns from the tea shop. His bones ache from standing all day and his mood is sour from having to serve customers, but it doesn’t distract him from the fact that something is missing. The place feels dull and lacks its normal warmth, and the change unnerves him.
“It seems y/n has not yet returned home,” Iroh observes as he flicks on the lamps to rid the room of darkness.
“Where did she go?” Zuko murmurs, doing his best to mask his anxiety over your absence. It’s not like you to stay out late, especially considering your apartment isn’t exactly in one of the safer rings of Ba Sing Se, and it worries him.
“I’m not sure. She seemed to be in a hurry when she left this morning,” the older man recounts as he scans the room to look for any trace of her left behind. “She didn’t even have her morning tea!”
“She could be in danger. I’m going to search for her.”
“Would you like me to come with you?”
“No, one of us should stay here in case she comes back,” Zuko states before making his way out the door. “I don’t want her to come home to any empty apartment.”
“Be sure to watch your temper if you do find her, nephew. Y/n is struggling to adjust to this new life just as you are, and it is important you are patient with her.”
The Prince says nothing in response to his Uncle’s words, but he immediately feels the guilt and shame that they bring him. His warning serves as a reminder for his recent behavior, and Zuko is then able to figure out why you were nowhere to be found.
You’d been eating breakfast together that morning before he had to leave for work, and despite his irritable mood you seemed to be eager to start the day.
“I was thinking of visiting the market place to buy fresh groceries for dinner tonight. Maybe I could stop by the tea shop and bring lunch for you and your Uncle,” you suggested with a pleasant smile.
“Sure,” Zuko had grumbled in response before forcing another spoonful of bland porridge down his throat.
“And after dinner we can visit the fountain,” you had said with an excited smile. “I’d love to take a walk through the city and get some fresh air. We hardly ever leave the apartment.”
“This city is nothing but dirt. There’s nothing to see out there.”
“Oh,” you had murmured, your features deflating slightly at his negative comments. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe we can just stay in and play a game of pai sho instead. I’m not exactly sure how to play, but I bet you could teach me! It could be fun!”
“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself speak?!” Zuko had finally snapped harshly, his patience finally having been worn thin by your ceaseless suggestions. He didn’t want to take a stroll or play pai sho or have any sort of fun, and he didn’t understand why you couldn’t get that. “This isn’t some little vacation. I failed to capture the Avatar and now we’re stuck here, do you understand? Go play pai sho with someone else.”
The room had grown deathly silent after Zuko’s outburst, and he was too annoyed to notice the way you kept your gaze glued firmly to the table to avoid him see the welling tears in your eyes. Without another word, you quietly excused yourself from the table and made your way out the door without an explanation or a goodbye. Zuko hadn’t seen you since.
“I’m such a jerk,” he curses himself as he roams the streets in search of you. You’re not in the market place and you’re not by the fountain, so where could you be? He’s beginning to worry, his mind conjuring up multiple scenarios where you’re in trouble and he can’t help you. It’s pure torture.
A familiar laugh floats through the air, and Zuko feels the hairs on his neck stand up at the soothing melody. He’s quick to follow the sound, and as he shoves his way through the crowded streets he finds himself coming to a stop at a small noodle shop. The shop is practically tucked into a corner and isn’t much to look at, but the inside is full of life as patrons eat and converse and enjoy the camaraderie. At the heart of the restaurant sits a table full of people focused on the game of pai sho before them, and at the center of the table you sit with a large grin and a white lotus tile in your hand.
“I can’t believe I won!” You exclaim with an excited clap of your hands before looking to the older woman sitting next to you. “Thank you so much for teaching me how to play. This is the most fun I’ve had in months!”
“Y/n?” Zuko calls, garnering the attention of you and your new friends at the table. The airy laughter and pleasantries die down at the sight of him and the room is suddenly filled with tension.
“Oh, hello, Lee,” you greet dully, your cheerful demeanor immediately disappearing when you make eye contact with the boy.
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home?”
“You said to go play pai sho with someone else, so that’s what I’m doing,” you state bluntly, and Zuko looks away guiltily after hearing his own words repeated back to him.
“Can you please just come home? You shouldn’t be out on the streets this late, it’s dangerous.”
“Why do you care?” You retort harshly. “I’m having fun here. These people actually want my company.”
“Y/n,” Zuko says with an irritated sigh, doing his best to remain patient. “Please. If not for me then for Uncle. He’s just as worried for your safety as I am.”
You hesitate at his words, but after a moment of contemplating you finally excuse yourself from the table. You bid your new friends goodbye and promise to return for another game sometime before following Zuko out of the restaurant and beginning your walk back home.
“The moon is out tonight,” he notes quietly in an attempt to make small talk, but you don’t reply. You keep your gaze forward and maintain a respectable distance from him as you walk. “Maybe I was wrong about this place.”
“Congratulations for figuring that out,” you retort sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. Having finally had enough, Zuko grabs your wrist to stop you in your tracks and force you to look at him.
“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs earnestly. “I feel horrible for what I’ve done.”
“Good, you should feel bad!” You exclaim angrily, harshly yanking your hand away from him. “You’ve been nothing but a jerk since we got to Ba Sing Se, and now that I’m finally giving you the space that you wanted you come and ruin my fun!”
“I don’t want space from you,” he insists desperately. “I was being an idiot! Y/n, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I was just feeling irritable and I took it out on you, but that isn’t fair of me.”
“I’m not going to be your punching bag for the rest of my life, Zuko,” you relent quietly, blinking back the tears that begin to form. “All I want is to start over, but you’re making it so difficult. Why did we even come here?”
“We came here because I realized you deserved better than to constantly live your life on the run,” he admits softly, carefully taking your hands in his own. “I know I’ve failed to make you happy or treat you the way you deserve, but you have to know that I care for you. The best part of my day is coming home to you after work, and I never want you to feel like a burden because you aren’t.”
“Thank you for saying that,” you sniffle with a meek smile, and when he pulls you into his arms for a hug you don’t protest. “I know this has been hard for you, but you have to understand that all I want is to support you and make the change as easy as possible for you.”
“I know, and I’ll forever be grateful for everything you do,” Zuko says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Now let’s get home before Uncle begins to worry.”
You say nothing more as he puts a protective arm around you and guides you through the streets of Ba Sing Se. The move has been tough, but he swears then that he’s going to do his best to improve his attitude and give you the support you need.
He has a lot of making up to do.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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loveinhawkins · 29 days
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”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.
The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—
Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.
He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.
But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.
I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.
Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.
“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”
“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.
If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.
Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?
“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”
Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.
Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.
“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”
Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.
He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.
“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.
The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”
His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.
I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…
Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.
“The shire, then,” Steve says.
Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”
“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”
And they do.
Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.
He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…
“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.
“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”
“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.
It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.
There’s no rush.
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latetaektalk · 7 months
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love to hate you | jjk [vii]
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“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”
— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU
— pairing: jungkook x female reader
— word count: 17.966
— warnings: swearing/cursing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, no communication skills whatsoever
— playlist: to be added
— a/n: after almost two years of no update its done. it would be a lie to say that i was always one hundred percent sure this was gonna see the light of day but its finally here, and im so so so happy to just put it out there and give it to you guys. @koocycle has listened to me bitch abt this one so much so thanks to her, also for kinda inspiring me to get back into tumblr.com and writing !! enjoy!! and once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!
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“You’re really showing your wealth, you know?” you said as Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, shutting out the cold air. He raised a brow, handing you the bag for you to hold onto, shivering slightly from the cold, his neck exposed to the harsh wind.
“How so?”
The engine sputtered to life as he slotted in the keys, his phone mounted to the dashboard, showing him the way. You pulled out the one-hundred-dollar expensive wine bottle from the bag, scrutinising it. Some of the glitter from the red ribbon the salesman had wrapped around it in an effort to be more festive and fitting today’s occasion peeled off. 
“This is too much.”
“Yeah, I know, the bow’s tacky but I couldn’t stop Kangjoon from-”
“No, I mean the hundred bucks you dropped on it. It shows your wealth,” you repeated, scrunching your nose. “Also, didn’t know you were on a first name basis with the salesman.”
You let the bottle slip back into its bag, scared Jungkook was going to make a sharp stop and cause you to drop and waste the bottle. God knows you didn’t have one hundred bucks casually lying around like him—even though you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t make you replace it and would definitely just buy it again himself.
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like Kangjoon? He’s a great man, very competent.” And just as you were about to tell him that Kangjoon scammed him, Jungkook continued, “Also isn’t that the whole reason why you’re dating me? My wealth?” 
He said it with a grin, turning to you as he let a family of four pass, receiving a thankful hand raise from both of the parents as they ushered their young children across the street. And even though he meant it purely as a joke, his smile and tone indicating as much, his words made you scrunch your face like you’d been stung by a bee. 
“It’s so unnecessary. We wouldn’t know the difference between this and supermarket wine, and Chae literally said not to bring anything. She’s gonna scold you, you know?”
If it had gone your way, you’d have gotten the second cheapest bottle of semi-fancy alcohol they had and called it a day but Jungkook swiped his card before you could intervene, ever so easily charmed. Well, actually if it had gone your way at all, you wouldn’t have brought anything to begin with. Chaeyoung hated it if her guests brought anything anyway.
“Gotta impress your friends, don’t I? Can’t have them not like me,” he argued, and you rolled your eyes.
“First of all, no, you don’t-”
“You don’t want your friends to like your boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, staring at you with his mouth agape and eyes wide as you came to a stop in front of a red light. You shook your head.
“No, can I speak?” you sighed, frowning as Jungkook laughed, clearly getting his kick out of annoying you. “My friends already like you, and you know that. We’re driving to Ji’s and Chae’s place now for a Christmas party. One that you were explicitly invited to. So I don’t believe you for a second when you say that you got this wine to impress them. Also, Chae said not to bring anything. You just like spending money.”
Jungkook pursed his lips, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Do I now?”
“Am I not exhibit A?”
He gave you a look as if to say touché.
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But just so you know, I gladly spent my money on that wine if it means I’ll impress your friends and make them like me more. And I’m even more than happy to spend it on you, cabbage.”
He looked at you by the end of his words, flashing you a grin. A grin that made him look so pretty and adorable, that would have made your knees buckle if you hadn’t been sitting, that wrapped your heart into his grip even tighter. A grin that made you wonder if a parachute would be enough to stop your fall for him, or if you were simply doomed for this fate, for the bone crushing landing.
You turned your head to the window, glad to see you had made it to Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s place.
“I think you’re just happy to have an excuse to spend your money,” you mumble, pretending to busy yourself with the straps of the bag.
“Sure—” There was a shrug, and you should have prepared yourself for the worst, should know better by now that Jungkook couldn’t just agree with you and leave you in peace. “—or you’re just the love of my life, cabbage, and what’s mine is yours.”
The words remained casual on Jungkook’s tongue, easy as ever. And they remained difficult and frown-inducing for you. 
“You’re-!”
A laugh bubbled up from Jungkook’s upon your silence, and though you were trying your deepest and most desperate to resist, your heart skipped a beat. It was fatal, cardiologists would say. How deeply you’d fallen, it was fatal. Your heart couldn’t be saved.
And as if he hadn’t said the most impossible thing ever, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a grin plastered on his lips.
“Alright, let’s-”
You yanked the door open, stepping (of course) in a puddle. With a groan and wince, you slammed the door shut. Your breath came out white and cloudy, December coming into its full swing. The weather had been harsher than ever—wind dragging on your skin until it was painful and tense, air cold enough to dry out your throat and mouth, every window coloured a milky white, and clouds hanging far and wide in the sky for every hour of the day. The urge to crawl back into the oh so warm car was strong. The urge to run away from Jungkook however was just that much stronger. 
The bottle bumped your hip bone as you rushed towards Jisoo’s and Chaeyoung’s apartment building. You didn’t turn around as Jungkook called after you to wait with a laugh, fumbling to unhook his phone from the dashboard. 
You reached the glass front door rather quickly, a handprint smudged across it that hadn’t been there last time. You cringed, but couldn’t think about it too much, worrying a lot more about the diminishing distance between Jungkook and you as you waited for one of your friends to open the stupid door for you. You knew for a fact they were already there, spotting Hoseok’s car parked on the side of the street. If he was there, Jimin was too, always catching a ride with him.
“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Jungkook called out, just a dozen steps behind you. 
You pulled on the front door as if it made a difference, pressing the bell repeatedly. He slowed his walk, burying his hands into his pockets. All so very smug. Your features twisted into a frown. 
“You’re so slow. You always run from me as if I won’t catch up with you in two-”
For once fate seemed to be on your side, the buzzer cutting through the air. The door almost hit you in the face when you yanked it open. You slammed it back shut again, just right in front of Jungkook’s nose. He pulled on the handle. The lock had clicked in. You watched his features twist as he realised he was too slow. His lips pressed together, curling inwards as he watched the biggest and proudest grin spread on yours.
“What were you saying? About me being too slow?” you said. A smile tucked on the corners of his mouth as he shook his head at you.
“Open up.”
He knocked on the glass, right in front of your nose.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
You put your hand to your ear, tilting your head.
“Just open up.”
“You gotta speak louder. I really can’t hear you with this door between-”
“Cabbage, you better open the door for me now, or I’m gonna make you regret it,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes, tongue poking in his cheek. And even though you were certain it was an empty threat—how was he going to make you regret it?—, you contemplated for just a second if maybe you should listen and open the door. 
“I’m gonna count to three.”
You scoffed. Were you a kid? And even more so, what was Jungkook going to do to you? Were you going to cave because of an empty threat? 
“Please do,” you smiled, eliciting one from Jungkook himself.
“Three.”
He raised a brow.
“Two.”
You folded your arms in front of your chest.
“One.”
A moment passed. 
Nothing happened.
“Alright, fine,” Jungkook said before dramatically ringing the bell. And even though you rolled your eyes, you did inch back. He was going to chase you, that one was for sure. 
The moment the buzzer rang, you took off. Jungkook let out a laugh.
“Now, you run?” he taunted, pulling the door open, his steps echoing through the hallway. You took two stairs at a time, yelping when you realised that Jungkook was hot on your tail. Maybe you should have run earlier. Or maybe you should have opened the door for him. But who were you, letting a guy threaten you? No less Jungkook of all people, that idiot.
You made it up the flight of stairs faster than you ever had, your lungs lit on fire. The front door already stood ajar for you. You could distantly hear Chaeyoung call out for Jisoo- A hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. Jungkook stood right in front of you, chest bumping into you, the biggest grin on his lips.
Shit.
“Gotcha.”
Your face soured.
“Oh, h-how are you?” you coughed with a smile, and he chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you even as he grabbed the bag from your hands and placed it down. You had completely forgotten about it. “Don’t look at me like this. T-that’s not fun.”
“Neither was having the door slammed in my face.” 
You backed into the wall. Turns out being tough was a lot more difficult when there wasn’t a door to shield you and Jungkook was actually in front of you, just centimetres from your face and staring at you like you were his favourite thing in this entire world. His hand sneaked around your waist, slipping underneath your sweater, fingers grazing the small of your back. His touch was light and delicate, teasing in all the right ways. It was cold too, making you arch and almost wince. And it was all too much—a tingle spreading across your back, rushing straight to your heart.
“Any last words before I make you regret it?” Jungkook hummed, and you should snort and laugh because he should sound ridiculous. But somehow, his words made you tense, the mere thought making your head spin in rounds and rounds. You bit on your tongue, silencing any sound that might just want to crawl up your throat.
You shouldn’t let Jungkook be this close to you. You needed distance for your sanity. But you couldn’t bring it over your heart to push him away. You didn’t have it in you. Not when there was very much a part of you that wanted to find out what Jungkook exactly meant.
He drank you up with his eyes, gaze dark and full of something hazy. Full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. But you loved it, you did. Maybe a little too much even. You loved the way it made your heart thump and rumble in your chest, made you forget that this was too much and far and dangerous, that Jungkook and you should keep your distance because in just a few weeks all of this would be over and you’d go your merry ways. But right now, with your back against the wall and Jungkook caging you in, thrill and excitement rushing through every single one of your cells, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t think you ever could.
“Got nothing to say now, cabbage?”
And when you still wouldn’t respond, he smiled. His face inched closer to yours, his nose brushing yours. Your fingers itched to hold onto something, onto him, curling and uncurling in the air. Because you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you did, hands gripping his sweater as if you were lost in the sea and he was all you had to cling to. 
You closed your eyes, anticipating and waiting for Jungkook to kiss you, your breath stuck in your chest. Any time now. It was going to happen-
“Oh my God, please don’t do this in my hallway.”
You whipped your head around, your heart dropping to the floor. Jisoo stood in the doorway, face twisted in utter disgust.
“Please, anywhere but my fucking hallway. That's all I’m gonna be able to think about. Seeing the two of you eating each other’s faces.”
There was even clearer disgust in her voice.
Oh God.
“Hello, Ji,” Jungkook smiled, and you expected him to back away from you, but he gave you no distance. He wasn’t even the slightest embarrassed, if anything you sensed the slightest annoyance swinging with his words.
“Please step away from her, Kook,” Jisoo asked, gesturing for him to move backwards. But he wasn’t all too eager to follow, staying cemented right in front of you, hands still around your waist. He paused to think.
“I’ve got a really expensive bottle of wine.” He pointed to the bag. “I’ll give it to you in exchange for five more minutes.”
“Oh, you brought something? Chae’s gonna kill you,” Jisoo laughed before changing her tune, tilting her head to the side. “But how expensive are we talking?”
“Like one hundred bucks.”
You stared holes into Jungkook, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you not right here too? Did you become air? It was like you were cattle being sold off. 
“Oh,” Jisoo gasped before shrugging. “Okay, deal-”
“Yeah, no way,” you laughed before doing what you should have done earlier—you pushed Jungkook away, making him tumble backwards a little. You stepped around him. 
“But, Y/N, it’s one hundred-”
“Ji!” you gasped, making her laugh and reach out for you. She wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling as she did. 
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I would never,” she told you, and you raised a brow at her. “Right, Kook?”
“Yeah, we were just kidding.”
“I don’t- hey! I can see you two exchanging looks!” you gasped, neither of the two even trying to be subtle. “Do you think I’m blind?”
“Ha, funny, I think-” Jisoo cleared her throat. “—I think Chae is calling for me? Oh my God, do you hear that? Yes, I’m on my way, Chae!”
And as if she hadn’t just stabbed you in the back, she slipped inside. But not without grabbing the bag and thanking Jungkook for it. You rolled your eyes, turning to head inside when he cleared his throat.
Jungkook was staring at you with his brows raised, clearly expecting… something. 
“What?” you barked. He gave you a smile before stretching out his hand. You groaned. “Seriously? We have to get inside-”
But he waved his hand around, not budging. Rolling your eyes and with a long exhale, you took his hand into yours. 
“You’re a child-”
Jungkook pulled you towards him, shutting you up with a kiss. One hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on the small of your back, pushing you into him. The kiss was tender and soft, gentle and light. And still, it was enough to have your heart thumping louder and harder in your chest than ever before. You asked yourself if Jungkook could feel it at all. That heart of yours that was oh so tight in his grip. That heart of yours that was bleeding in your chest. That heart of yours already ached at the thought of this all ending in just a few weeks. 
It was a lovely kiss, a devastatingly lovely kiss.
And when Jungkook pulled away, his eyes so full and beautiful, you felt gutted and empty. Because this meant nothing to him. This meant nothing at all. You looked away. Jungkook laughed, pulling you flush to his side, all too unaware.
“Let’s go?”
You nodded slightly. 
Jimin was first to greet you, leaping up from the couch and pulling you into a hug. “You made it!”
“Took you long enough,” Taehyung mumbled, sipping on his beer, earning himself a look from Namjoon that he simply ignored. “We could hear you two yelling around in the hallway.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Tae,” Jungkook laughed, and the older one frowned at him. 
“It’s December 10th.”
“In other words, it’s almost-”
“No, it’s not-”
Hoseok greeted you with a hug, ignoring Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s bickering because otherwise he would never get to say hello to you. “Looking good.”
“Thanks.” You stared at his sweater. “That’s one really ugly Christmas sweater.”
He laughed, thanking you. Seokjin and Namjoon were next to give you a quick hug, followed by Jennie and Yoongi, exchanging a few words with each of them. Taehyung and you stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. And though he tried to hide it, a smile formed on his lips. A smile you could only return. You blamed it on the holidays. They made you especially sappy and sentimental.
You were first to reach out. Taehyung reciprocated the hug. It was a little awkward and short and one-armed. It was more than anyone could ask of you. Jungkook nodded in both amazement and approval when you caught his eyes for a split second, and you just scrunched your nose at him.
“So how-”
You tuned out Seokjin, taking a minute to admire the decoration around you instead. Chaeyoung (because Jisoo wasn’t particularly all too fond of Christmas, but did put up with all of it because Chaeyoung very much was) always outdid herself every holiday season: red little fuzzy stockings hanging off shelves and cupboard knobs, cinnamon-scented candles lit up all throughout the place, miniature Santa and reindeer figurines sitting on every surface alongside bowls of chocolates and peppermints with fake snow underneath. There was even a small fake Christmas tree crammed into the corner of their living room with colourful baubles (some of which Jimin had gifted and had pictures of you all printed on them) and equally colourful fairy lights hanging on it. And of course, Michael Bublé was on heavy rotation, his voice carried throughout the home. 
“Where’s Chae?” you asked Jisoo when she came up next to you, both of you standing in front of the Christmas tree. 
“Oh, you know-”
“Ah, great, you guys finally made it as well,” Chaeyoung exhaled, coming out from the kitchen, and seeing Jungkook and you among the other guests. There was a slight edge accompanying her words, and you doubted for no second that her nerves were running high from having to host tonight and needing all of this to turn out perfect. (Even if she chose this fate upon herself.) Her updo was falling apart, strands sticking out in the wrong places. Still, she looked pretty. Especially with her reindeer apron tied around her waist. She had had it since middle school, and seeing it brought back all kinds of memories. You couldn’t help but grin, Jisoo and you exchanging looks. And when your gaze met Chaeoyung’s, she knew. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 
“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, speaking to you too only and confusing the others in the process. Jisoo and you snickered. 
“Anyway—” Chaeyoyung waved her hand around, “—I’ve got some unfortunate news. Dinner isn’t ready. I’ll need at least another thirty minutes. Hope you guys didn’t come too hungry.”
“Do you need help with anything?” Jungkook asked, already getting up from the couch. Yoongi raised his hand, silently extending the offer as well. Jennie nodded, clearly willing to get her hands dirty too.
“Yeah, anything we can do to help you?” Taehyung asked, making an effort to get up too, but Chaeyoung was quick to shake her head.
“No, I don’t need help,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to inform you guys. You all would help if you guys just busied yourself and didn’t come into the kitchen.”
And before anyone could insist on their help, Chaeyoung disappeared back inside the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t we-?”
“If you wanna stay on her good side, don’t take a single step into the kitchen. Don’t even breathe in that direction, or think about helping her,” Jisoo explained, and Jungkook looked at you as if to ask if this was exaggerated at all.
“Yeah, Chae’s… very peculiar with that kind of stuff.”
“But there are so many of us. Is she really gonna do all of it on her own?” Jennie asked, but Hoseok waved her off. 
“Trust me, she is and she will. Chae gets super stressed, but she also loves to host. If you don’t let her, she’ll be in a bad mood for ages. It’s better to just let her do her own thing.”
“And if it actually gets too much, she’ll come out and ask for help at one point. Trust me,” Jimin added.
“You think? I’m not so sure about that one,” Jisoo snorted and moved over to grab a handful of chocolates. Almost instinctively, she placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder, and for a moment, you wondered if Jungkook and you ever looked this natural and comfortable with each other. If you looked as much as a couple as Jisoo and Jennie did. “When has she ever asked for help?”
“There’s no way she can do all of this on her own,” Taehyung said, frowning.
“You don’t know Chae.”
“Maybe. But it seems humanly impossible to pull off this entire thing without asking for at least some help.”
Jisoo raised her brow at Taehyung, pausing a moment. “Oh, do you wanna bet?” Her mouth pulled into a grin at the mere prospect of making some easy money. “Ten bucks?”
Hoseok and you exchanged glances over their heads. This was very much typical of Jisoo. 
“Don’t bet with her, Tae. She’s a scammer,” Jimin said, pushing Jisoo’s hand away as she waited for him to shake it.
“I won’t,” Taehyung laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I don’t do-”
The ear-shattering sound of a pan clashing with the kitchen tiles emerged from the kitchen, followed up with a few loud curses and an “It’s fine!”. You cringed when something else you couldn’t identify fell to the floor a second later, eliciting even more curses. Almost instinctively, you turned to Jisoo, nudging her. Because as much as she was right that it was a bad idea to go help Chaeyoung, it would actually be worse not to go in right now when everything seemed to go off the rails.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. My cue to jump in,” she grumbled, begrudgingly making her way to the kitchen, knowing already she would have to endure Chaeyoung’s snappy attitude. She squeezed Jennie’s hand in goodbye. 
“See, she’s getting help,” Taehyung said to no one in particular and righteously took a sip from his beer. Jungkook applauded him sarcastically, and you were about to say something when-
“Oh, this is cute!” Seokjin gasped, coming up to you. You followed his gaze to the bauble he was admiring. It had an old picture of you and your friends on it, faces curving around the porcelain. “How old are you guys there?”
You pursed your lips. “That’s probably senior year? So like seventeen maybe? Eighteen?”
“What are you guys doing- oh my God, you guys look so young.” Namjoon hooked an arm around Seokijn’s shoulder, marvelling at your younger selves. “Look at that one!”
He pointed out one with just Jisoo, Chaeyoung and you on it. It was one of the first pictures you three had taken together. All three of you still stuck in middle school. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or nostalgic.
“Is that Ji? Her hair, oh my God!” Seokjin laughed, pointing out the blunt bob Jisoo used to rock.
“Don’t be mean!” And yet, Namjoon laughed too.
“You’re lucky Ji can’t hear you right now because she’d kill you,” you said. “But actually, you should see some of Seok’s old pictures. He looks so different-”
A hand snaked around your waist. You tensed. But you relaxed a second later when you realised who it was. You peeked over your shoulder just to check and smiled when you turned out to be right. He placed his chin on your shoulder.
“Hello,” Jungkook whispered, and you squirmed, his breath tickling your ear. He was so close to you, too close. You could practically feel his heart beating behind yours.
“Hey,” you returned, a bit breathless and pitchy. You cleared your throat.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Oh, uh, nothing really,” you mumbled, waving your hand around.
Jungkook frowned, but didn’t ask any further. “Okay, well, I wanted to get you something to drink. You think I can go into the kitchen without getting murdered?”
“Yeah, you’re fine. Ji’s there too,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you, eyes big and so full and a smile on his lips.
“Okay, then do you want anything in particular?”
You shook your head. “Uh, no, whatever is fine.”
“Whatever it is.”
But rather than just leave to get you said drink, Jungkook lingered, not moving away from you just yet. You raised a brow at him, making him smile. As if he could read your mind, he loosened his grip around your waist, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck.
“Getting you that drink,” he smiled, backing away. 
You touched a hand to where he had kissed you, gripping, feeling hot all of a sudden. It was stupid, you were stupid. 
“Jesus.”
And albeit, it was quiet and muttered under his breath, you heard it very clearly. You looked at Seokjin, eyes big as he stared back at you with a grin on his lips. There was a fondness in his eyes, a look you always saw on Jimin’s face. Namjoon wore it too.
“What?” you asked when the expression wouldn’t disappear.
“It’s just-” 
He sighed and shook his head.
“What?” you repeated, but Seokjin wouldn’t continue.
“You guys are just cute,” Namjoon supplied.
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, shaking your head.
“You guys are exactly like Jin and Mina used to be,” Yoongi said, coming up next to you, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot on the couch.
“What?” you laughed, shaking your head over and over again. “I have no idea what-”
“Don’t deny it, Y/N,” Namjoon laughed and looked at you.
“It’s gross really,” Yoongi scoffed, taking a sip from his beer. “How smitten he is for you. How happy and—” He shuddered for the drama of it all but wore a smile on his lips. “—stupidly in love you two are.”
Wait, what?
“It’s cute,” Seokjin corrected, and you stared at him with stunned silence. 
“Is it though?”
“Don’t be like that, Yoongs. When have you ever seen Kook this happy before?” 
The question, though not directed at you at all, made you freeze. And when you looked at Yoongi and he made no effort to disagree, you froze.
“You make him really happy,” Namjoon said with a smile and tilted his head when you didn’t speak or react at all, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “You know that, right?”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, crashing down on you and compressing your lungs. Because, no, you didn’t. You didn’t think about it ever, and why would you? It never seemed possible to you because it simply wasn’t possible you made Jungkook happy. You didn’t have that power over him.
Was this really how you looked like to others—two people who were in love and happy? It sounded ridiculous to you, impossible. So much so, you just had to shake your head and wave your hand around as if the words loomed in front of you and had to be physically dismissed. Your heart banged in your ribcage, loud and far too heavy.
“You guys are exaggerating!” you chuckled, voice wavering the slightest bit. “This has nothing to do with me- Finals are over and it’s Christmas, so obviously-”
A single look from them was all it took to silence you. They didn’t have to say a word for you to know what they were collectively thinking.
“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Seokjin said.
“For god’s sake, just look at that boy,” Yoongi laughed, pointing behind you, and your gaze followed his hand. Right then Jungkook came back with two drinks, one for you and one for him. 
He seemed surprised, stilling as he saw that you were all looking at him. But he recovered, mouth pulling into a big smile. Your eyes met his. You would have missed it if you hadn’t looked so close and paid attention to every little thing he did. But you saw it, the tiny smile he offered you, and only you. It was like a little secret. Just for you and him to know and share and see. 
Did you really make him happy?
“Why are you guys staring at me like that?” Jungkook laughed, coming to a stop in front of you and handing you your drink. You took it passively, and purely from the warmth, you knew it was your favourite, green tea. “Are you guys talking shit about me?”
“Oh, yeah, you know just the usual shit talking we do about you,” Namjoon snorted.
“Mhm, the usual stuff. How you always-”
Seokjin’s voice faded away when Jungkook moved closer to you, his arm already lifting to sneak around your middle. But you couldn’t do this. Not now.
“Sorry, I gotta pee,” you mumbled, wringing out of Jungkook’s grasp, his fingers just barely brushing your skin. You didn’t know who you interrupted, but you offered them all an apologetic look but you never quite looked at Jungkook. Your exit seemed natural enough though, you thought. No one made an effort to stop you.
Some of your drink spilt over when you put it down on the coffee table too quickly, and you even almost bumped into Hoseok, but rather than apologise properly and clean up your mess, you hurried into the bathroom. 
The moment the lock clicked shut behind you, you let yourself crumble, knees giving in. If only just a little. 
Oh God.
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It wasn’t very environmentally friendly, not very Save the Turtles! kind of behaviour of you at all as you just let the water run and run into the sink and down the drain. You didn’t even wash your hands or face, just needing something to fill the silence as you sat on the edge of the bathtub and let yourself calm down.
You felt ridiculous. You truly did. Insane and crazy even. The behaviour you were exhibiting was probably therapist worthy. The panic. For what? And why? It was behaviour you never imagined yourself exhibiting. No less because of Jeon Jungkook. But here you were, playing his pretend girlfriend for money so he could win a bet. And you got all of your friends involved even! You should have really thought this through-
“Cabbage?”
And somehow, both dread and warmth crept up with his voice. You closed your eyes, thinking for a second to shut off the tap. It seemed just a little too exhausting to do that.
“Yeah?” 
“Are you good?”
“Yeah.”
It was quiet for a few seconds.
“Can I come in?”
“I’m peeing, Jeon.”
A lie. He knew. You knew.
“Fine, come in.”
When you wouldn’t move, Jungkook gave the door handle a try, surprised to see you hadn’t locked it. You had forgotten, and so he did it for you instead. The moment he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the tap carelessly running, he stopped, features folding into something nice, pleasant, empathetic.
“Stop,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shutting off the tap as if that minimised how sad you had to look right now.
Jungkook chuckled, burying his hands into his pants, carefully walking towards you. He sat down next to you, knee pressed against yours. Neither of you pulled away. There was a part of you that should tell him to give you space, but you couldn’t. If anything, you turned a little to him.
“How are you always running off into the bathroom when you feel bad? It’s so obvious,” he mumbled, pinching your nose.
“Ow, stop!” you hissed, swatting his hand aside. 
He gave you a look, shaking his head, and you pouted like a child would. It made him chuckle, and you tensed when Jungkook put his head on yours, too tall to lean against your shoulder comfortably, his eyes falling shut. 
“What did they say?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence after a while.
“What?”
“Joon and the others. What did they say to make you run off like that?”
You pressed your lips together, disliking that you were so easy to read.
“Who sent you?” you snorted, wanting to figure out which of your friends just earned themselves a plus point.
“No one.”
“What?” you blinked, and looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed. “So you-”
“No one sent me. I just… wanted to make sure you were fine myself.”
And hearing that was somehow utterly awful. Because it meant Jungkook cared. At least to some degree, at least enough to want to check on you. It meant that he was able to read you so easily, that he really knew you.
“Now, what did they say? You can tell me. I’ll talk to them for you. Or I won’t if you don’t want me-”
You shook your head, sighing. “Nothing. They said nothing.”
It was true. Because none of what Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi said was worth running off. It wasn’t insulting, or hurtful. 
“Are you sure? Seriously, you can just tell me. I’d talk to-”
“I’m serious,” you interrupted, not even wanting to hear how far Jungkook would go for you. “They said nothing. I just had to pee.” You shrugged. “And I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s nothing. I promise.”
Jungkook sat up, glancing at you with his mouth pursed and eyes narrowed. “So just a moment to breathe?”
Your hand almost came up to cup his cheek, the urge to brush over the little scar on his cheekbone tempting you. It was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. There was this need, to plant your lips against his. Kiss him and assure him. But you didn’t let yourself. You turned your head to the other side, curling your hand around the cool porcelain of the bathtub until the skin stretched thin over your knuckles and almost hurt. Just anything but Jungkook and his stupidly pretty face.
“Just a moment to breathe,” you mumbled. 
Jungkook hummed, straightening up. He let his head hang for a few seconds before lifting it up again and turning to you.
“Is it fine if I stay with you then?”
It was a delicate question, an honest question, a devastating heartbreaking question. Because of course, he could. Of course! He could do anything, as long as he remained by your side. And that realisation, albeit not entirely new to you (you were aware of it to some degree all along), was mortifying. 
You closed your eyes, a knot forming in your throat. There was nothing for you to say, a silence stretching between you. A silence Jungkook took as a “yes”, and when his hand gripped yours, it was sealed for you. You didn’t pull away, put your head on his shoulder. What would be the use of resisting? What good would it do? What would it change? Nothing.
So you enjoyed it instead, the moment between him and you. For as long as you could. For now.
“We should probably get back out,” you mumbled when you heard the laughter get louder in the living room. 
“Probably.”
And yet, neither of you moved. A few more moments passed. It was the next bound of laughter that ripped you out.
“We should-”
“I think it’s time-”
You both stopped, nodding, knowing. Jungkook was first to get up, groaning like an old man before turning to you and offering you his hand. With one loud sigh, you took it, allowing him to pull you up. You shared a look and a smile.
It felt like you were walking into another world when you stepped outside, still holding hands. Before it was just Jungkook and you. Now it was everyone else too. And almost as if you had said that exact thought out loud, everyone looked at you as you walked back in. You stopped, the same way Jungkook had when he had returned and found you all staring at him. You frowned, the grin spreading on Jimin’s and Jisoo’s (When had she made it back?) faces worrying you. Jungkook seemed as clueless as you.
“What?”
No one said anything for a second. 
“Can I?” Jisoo asked, pleading with everyone else, and you narrowed your eyes. She was giddy, and her being giddy was never a good sign, especially for you. Most times it meant you’d be miserable.
“Do the honours,” Jimin said, gesturing for her to ahead.
Jisoo leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She seemed to stretch the moment thin, take her sweet time to reveal to you what exactly entertained her so much. Jennie shook her head next to her, but she wore a smile on her lips, amused.
You kept close to Jungkook, almost instinctively. As if he could protect you. His hand brushed the small of your back, soothing. Taehyung’s irritating snicker grabbed your attention for a second, but before you could frown at him for it, Jisoo spoke,
“Look up.”
Fuck. You should have figured.
“Ah,” Jungkook laughed upon seeing the mistletoe above your heads. 
“You guys are funny,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “And very cute for thinking that we are gonna do-”
“You have to!” Jimin interjected, leaning forward and pointing at the two of you. “It’s the law. The rules of the game.”
You frowned, and the lines deepened even more when you saw everyone from Namjoon, Seokjin and Jennie to Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jisoo nodding along. Of course, they found pleasure in your misery. 
“It’s bad luck if you don’t,” Hoseok reminded you of the stupid rules, and you could have thrown something at him. How was no one on your side?
“That’s… made up.”
“Well, if you wanna risk the bad luck, be my guest,” Hoseok chuckled, shrugging, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Oh, please, no one believes that!” 
But you were met with no ounce of support from anyone. You turned to Jungkook, expecting that he was equally as ticked off as you. But he seemed perfectly fine, his features not even slightly twisted into anything resembling irritation. If anything, he was smiling a little when you met his eyes. 
“I don’t know, I’m never one to tempt fate,” he said, and you couldn’t quite decide how to react. Jungkook reached for your hand again, playing with your fingers. “Why risk the bad luck? Also, it’s not like we have never kissed in front of them.” He grinned. “Remember how you jumped me and-”
“Oh my God, I didn’t jump you!” Your voice leapt up a few pitches too high and remained there when your friends began to laugh.
“Now that’s a lie. You practically threw yourself at-”
“Jeon!”
Jungkook cackled, and you could have strangled him right then and there. Your friends laughed too, and you would have snapped at them if your cheeks didn’t warm to an uncomfortable degree. To the point the blood boiled in your ears, so much so you didn’t even hear Namjoon’s holler about how it was just a kiss!
It wasn’t completely lost on you that it was stupid to be embarrassed, considering how boldly you had claimed Jungkook as yours in front of a room of strangers just a few weeks ago. Especially considering that all of your friends had a slight alcohol level going on anyway already and were most definitely moving on the second the kiss happened. But it was different. At the Halloween party, you were positively buzzed, your vision blurry and fuzzy. But more importantly, you were jealous to the point of turning green. It seemed so much more intimate to kiss Jungkook in front of everyone now. And so very vulnerable because you wanted to so much. Kiss him. You always did these days, yearned to. That desire scared you, was mortifying in more ways than you could describe, particularly in this moment because what if they could all sense it? What if Jungkook realised it all of a sudden? That you really wanted this? That your entire heart ached for him? 
And as if you had the fear written all over your face, Jungkook reached for you, tugging on your elbow and turning you back to him. He gave you a smile, his head tilted to the side. A few strands slipped out of his perfectly messy hair, and a soft shadow covered half his face. Right then, he seemed all so delicate to you, so good, so precious. It was instant, your heartbeat dwindled into something calmer and wilder at the same time. Somehow, it seemed almost easy and much more difficult to kiss him and pretend it didn’t dig daggers into your heart. None of it made sense, the effect he had on you, but you supposed a lot of things hadn’t made sense in your life since Jungkook’s first appearance.
“It’s just a kiss, cabbage,” he mumbled, shrugging. 
It was. It was just a kiss, to your friends, to him. It was nothing, a small price you had to pay to entertain your friends. It was fun and simple. It was just unfortunate that it was so much more to you. 
You held your breath when Jungkook placed a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, gentle and soothing. He was doing everything right, and yet, you could have thrown up right then and there. Jimin gasped and squeaked as Jungkook inched closer to you, Jisoo grasping onto his arm because oh my God, they were going to kiss! All while you were desperately, almost frantically, fisting Jungkook’s shirt, as if you would float away otherwise and it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.
And Jungkook kissed you all too delicately.
To the point, you could have believed him. That you meant something to him, that he might just be in love with you. It was horrible, to be kissed like that. You weren’t sure if this was how it felt like, to be in love and to be loved. You hoped it wasn’t.
You pulled him closer to you, deepened the kiss, allowed him in. For just a while, you told yourself. Just until you found the strength in you to resist him, until you deemed your own well-being more important than these fleeting highs with Jungkook.
“Alright, dinner’s- oh.” 
Chaeyoung stopped right before she could bump into you, and you quickly pulled away. But Jungkook kept holding you, not letting go of you. Chaeyoung placed her hands on her hips and shot Jimin and Jisoo a long look.
“Ah, who of you idiots did this?” 
“Why do you assume it was-”
“So it was you,” Chaeyoung said, interrupting Jimin and shaking her head. “Take it off. Dinner’s ready.”
Jisoo slapped his shoulder, laughing, clearly enjoying seeing him getting reprimanded by Chaeyoung. Jimin rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was no fun but he followed her orders, getting up and reaching for the bundle above your heads. You backed away-actually you jumped. It made Jimin pause and narrow his eyes, his mouth lifting into a smile when he saw the opportunity.
“Oh, what if I hold it over you-”
“No, don’t even!” you hissed, pushing Jimin away from you and seeking refuge behind Chaeyoung. 
“Oh, it’s just one more kiss, Y/N!” Jimin taunted, following you. You shrieked, moving further from him, irritated by the constant laughter spilling from his throat. He was enjoying this too much. Too much!
“Fuck off!”
“Don’t be like-”
“I’m serious, stop!”
“It’s fun-”
“Okay, no, enough,” Jungkook said, stepping in and swiftly taking the mistletoe from Jimin. He slapped him with it lightly, eliciting a gasp from Jimin. “No more chasing my girlfriend with mistletoe, okay? Or you can do your physics assignments on your own.” 
Rubbing his cheek, almost convinced he was allergic to mistletoe now, Jimin gasped as if Jungkook had just declared an end to their friendship. “Kook! How could you say that?”
“Stop chasing my girlfriend then.”
“Oh my God, fine, I won’t,” Jimin groaned, pouting. “You’re so lame.”
When he reached for the mistletoe, Jungkook hesitated, looking over to you and even though you preferred him not to hold it in his hands again, you knew Jimin would get even more offended if Jungkook withheld the bundle from him. So you gave him a nod. 
“Okay, alright, dinner’s getting cold,” Chaeyoung said, clapping her hands together when Jimin was back in possession of his mistletoe. “So how about we take this party into the kitchen, yeah?”
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Like you had said he would, Jungkook got an earful from Chaeyoung when she noticed the expensive bottle of wine suddenly appear on the dinner table because how dare you bring something when I clearly said not to? And on top of that such an expensive bottle too. Do you shit money? Somebody needs to teach you how to manage your finances. Rather than come to his help, you left Jungkook to fend for himself which earned you puppy eyes from him, but hadn’t you told him better? Surprisingly however he managed to convince her to open the bottle anyway. You were sure she’d get him to return it, or at least take it home again. Jungkook could be very compelling. But you knew that already. 
“If the teaching thing doesn’t work out—” Namjoon had his mouth stuffed as he spoke, and you caught Yoongi cringing next to him. “—I think you should become a cook, Chae.”
She smiled sheepishly, waving him off. “Oh, please. My mom’s cooking is so much better.”
“I don’t know if I believe you,” he laughed. “This is seriously so good.”
Hoseok shoved a big bite into his mouth, a drop of sauce splashing onto the table. Chaeyoung smiled and wiped it off for him. He thanked her.
“It’s the best food on Earth. I’d die for it,” Jimin sighed, a little too loud and dramatic, his mouth full with food, giving you all a glimpse into what his stomach must look like. His cheeks were tinted a slight pink, the red wine slowly flushing him through. “Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme? Where you know—” He sat up, changing his voice in a failed attempt to mimic the British celebrity chef. “—he’s like ‘Finally some good fucking food.’ or whatever. That’s how I always feel when I eat Chae.”
For a second, there was silence. Jungkook and you looked at each other with big eyes, a hint of a smile on your lips because it was obvious that Jimin hadn’t realised what he had said, blabbering on and on without a second thought.
“Maybe you should calm it on the alcohol,” Seokjin mumbled, pushing Jimin’s glass away from him. But it had the opposite effect, making him reach for it instead and down the entire contents of his glass in one quick go.
“Never!”
“You mean… her food. When you eat her food, you could cry, right?” Taehyung clarified, and Jimin looked at him with big eyes.
“Oh, yes of course! What else would I mean?” he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Chae’s all yours, Seok. Don’t worry. I’m not your competition.” 
Chaeyoung almost choked on the wine, and Hoseok turned a few shades redder. 
“Someone get this idiot some water,” Yoongi snorted, and Namjoon already got up.
You turned your gaze to Jisoo when she leaned into you, taking the chaos as a chance to just talk to you, her hand grabbing yours.
“How’s the scarf going by the way? Are your loops now clean?” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low. You glanced towards Jungkook, but he was busy trying to convince Jimin to drink a few sips from the water at least. And though he hadn’t heard a word, you glared at Jisoo, shaking your head.
“Not with him around,” you hissed, and she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, look at him. He’s not paying us attention. I wanna know. I’m invested now, especially because you always called me a grandma for knitting. How’s it going?” she asked, and you knew it was best to just quickly answer her because she wasn’t dropping this.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it now. It’s almost done-”
“What are you guys whispering about?” Jennie asked, leaning in, eyes wandering between Jisoo and you.
“Y/N’s knitting a scarf for her boyfriend for Christmas.”
“Ji!” 
Your features couldn’t decide whether or not to contort in embarrassment or fear Jungkook had overheard this time. It’d ruin your surprise. You were in luck though because he wasn’t paying your conversation any mind.
“Oh, that’s cute!” Jennie squealed. “I only thought Ji knits. I didn’t know you knit too, Y/N.”
“I-”
“She doesn’t. She just sews a little,” Jisoo said, beating you to it. She leaned towards Jennie as if she was telling her a secret and didn’t want you to hear, but she deliberately kept eye contact with you and didn’t even lower her voice, her lips curling up. “She learned how to knit for her stupid little boyfriend. She asked me so many questions and bought so much yarn too. It was so annoying-”
You kicked Jisoo in the shin, shutting her up. She sharply sucked in her breath, hands flying to her leg, mouth agape in a silent screech.
“You’re talking too much,” you hissed, not remorseful at all even as she rubbed her shin. Jennie laughed. 
“That’s really cute of you though, Y/N,” she said, smiling at you. “I like the idea. He’s gonna love it.”
“It’s just a scarf,” Jisoo mumbled, rolling her eyes, words dipping into an astonishing amount of immaturity. “It’s not that cute. I could knit you a better scarf-”
“Stop bragging. It’s different. You’ve always knit. Y/N made an effort to learn how to for Kook.”
“I’d learn how to do something new for you.”
“So do.”
“What? Like I won’t?”
You took that as your cue to exit the conversation, glancing over to Jungkook instead. He hadn’t noticed your conversation at all. In fact, he was stuffing his mouth full. Some extra sauce decorated the corner of his mouth in his haste. Without missing a beat, you wiped it off with your thumb before cleaning it on his napkin. He turned to you, eyes as big as a reindeer caught in headlights. It hit you only then as he stared at you and you stared at him, what you had done. How intimate the nature of the gesture had been. You might as well have ripped out your heart and told him to keep it. It would have been the same.
“Did… you just-”
“Oh, the wine is actually so good!” Jisoo sighed, putting down her glass, and right now you were very glad she sat next to you. “I think that’s the best wine I’ve ever had.”
Jungkook’s eyes darted between her and you. He was thinking, contemplating if he’d engage with Jisoo in a conversation, or tease you until you were just about ready to be swallowed by a hole. Maybe it was the way you wouldn’t even look in his direction and kept your gaze trained on Jisoo, or maybe because he was planning on bringing it up another time, but in the end, he decided to spare you.
“I’m happy to hear you like it,” he grinned before jabbing you in the side. You flinched, grabbing his hand before he could do it again. “See, and you said they wouldn’t taste the difference.”
“She doesn’t,” you grumbled, brows creased together.
“She’s just saying that because she knows how expensive it is,” Taehyung said, and for once you agreed. Jisoo rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something about not wanting to argue with an idiot and picking a piece of lint off of Jennie’s shoulder instead.
Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever. She likes it, so worth every penny.”
You were about to let go of his hand, feeling any kind of contact was a step too much, a step into a very wrong and dangerous direction. But Junkook interlaced his fingers with yours, holding it firm, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. For a second, you contemplated pulling away because this was too much, too close. You didn’t, not finding the strength in you to do it. 
“Actually, I haven’t learned half of my mom’s cooking. She always makes this amazing pork belly stew for every Christmas. If you love this, you’ll love that,” Chaeyoung said, pulling you into their conversation that seemed to have circled back to her cooking.
“Are you gonna go back home for Christmas? Because I’ll go with you if so. That stew sounds amazing,” Yoongi said.
“Oh my God, if you are, please take me with you too because this is so good,” Jennie sighed dreamily, making Chaeyoung laugh. 
“Excuse me, what about our Christmas plans?” Jisoo gasped with faux upset, and immediately Hoseok, Chaeyoung, Jimin and you exchanged glances. 
Moving fast, Hoseok mouthed and you nodded. You had no idea. At the same time, it seemed to work for them.
“Oh, can’t we just drop by for dinner really quickly for some food?” Jennie tried, pursing her lips into a pout, but Jisoo just clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“Good food is all it takes, huh?”
Jennie laughed.
“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”
Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”
And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.
“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.
“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 
What?
Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.
“Uh-?”
“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.
What?
“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”
You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.
“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”
You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!
“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”
“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”
He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 
“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”
“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”
His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 
“Didn’t Narae meet-”
“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 
If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 
You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?
“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.
“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.
“It’s nothing.”
There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.
“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”
You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.
“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 
You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.
It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 
A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!
“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 
You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.
It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 
“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”
You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.
“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”
He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.
You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”
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“I think that was it,” Jungkook said, handing you the last few dirty plates. 
“Alright,” you hummed, moving around some of the dishes to make some more space in the dishwasher. 
“Oh,” Chaeyoung exclaimed in surprise upon seeing Jungkook standing there with you, “you can head out first. I’ll help Y/N.” 
She wore a smile on her lips, but you knew better. 
“It’s fine. I’ll just help-”
“No, really, get out,” Chaeyoung interrupted, slipping just the slightest bit and you gave Jungkook a look, almost reaching out for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She was curt, too curt. It surprised him, clearly. “I’m the host. I’ll clean up. Join the others in the living room.”
You offered him a nod, and with that Jungkook slipped out, receiving a more genuine smile and a quiet thank you from Chaeyoung on the way out because she knew he was more than confused by her just now. Before he even had the chance to turn to ask whether or not he should close the door, she did herself. You knew to prepare yourself, putting the stack of dishes aside. She folded her arms in front of her stomach.
This was an interrogation.
In another world (read: in a detective TV show), there’d be a metal table between you and you’d be handcuffed to it. A clock would decorate the blank walls, ticking away in the background, and the air would be chilly and humid, stifling almost. Chaeyoung would dramatically slide pictures across to you, and they would be incriminating ones, blurry but clearly depicting you in the middle of whatever crime you were accused of. She would point at them and tell you how you had one chance to tell her the truth.
“How are you?”
Just the question almost made you laugh. It was heartwarming. You knew exactly what she was trying to get out of you—if it hurt you at all that Narae had met Jungkook’s parents and he had seemingly wanted to keep you a secret. You dried your hands on the kitchen towel.
“I’m fine, thanks. How are you-”
“Are you lying?”
She took this very seriously, her face not even holding a hint of a smile. Again, in another world she’d stare you down, gaze cold and unwavering, and ask if you wanted to try again.
“Do I look like I am lying?”
You were lying about all of it, about most things concerning Jungkook and you these days. But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t admit that the entire conversation during dinner hurt you to the degree it did, to a degree you would rather not admit, that it hurt at all to begin with. Because being hurt implied you had some sort of right to be, implied Jungkook owed you… something. And that was just not true.
Chaeyoung paused, sizing you up. It was hard to figure out what conclusion she came to, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She opened her mouth, but right then, someone announced themselves with a knock on the door. Without waiting, they poked their head in, and it could realistically only be one person. 
“What did she say?” Jisoo asked.
Were you air today?
“Says she’s fine,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose.
“You don’t believe her?” Jisoo slipped inside and slowly closed the door, making sure beforehand though that no one was in earshot. Chaeyoung scrutinised you for another moment before coming to her conclusion with a long sigh.
“No, I do.” She paused before looking at you. “You know I’d- we’d rip him into pieces for you, right?”
You had no doubt for a second they would. Actually, all of your friends would, but Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be the first ones to throw a punch.
“I do, and I love you guys for it,” you say, smiling genuinely because God, you did love your friends so much. “But you don’t have to because I’m fine. And like I said, we had talked about it. You know how I am. Parents aren’t my thing.”
“Well, for that you just agreed to go meet them,” Jisoo mumbled, scrunching her nose, and you swallowed. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else, or maybe it was because you were no longer sitting around the dinner table with everyone expectedly staring at you and awaiting for an explanation, but it finally hit you. What exactly you had agreed to. Once your mind wasn’t clouded with the thought of Narae, you realised that oh my God, you were meeting Jungkook’s parents.
It was funny how quickly things could change. How just a few minutes ago, you didn’t worry about it at all, only thinking of Narae and her stupid perfect grin and the fact she had met them, and now you were worried because what would they say about you? Would they like you? What if they were like Jaehwa’s parents and-
“Now, don’t make that face,” Chaeyoung interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, noticing your spiral. “They’re gonna like you.”
“Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about at all, Y/N,” Jisoo reassured. “If anything, they should be on their best behaviour. Because if not…”
And like the amazing friend she was, Jisoo started punching the air, showing you her swift moves that she would put on Jungkook’s parents. 
“Can’t you see? They say one wrong thing, and it’d be over for them. Ji would do these weird punches and knock them right out,” Chaeyoung said. “It’s gonna be fine. Has to.”
“Also, with the way Jungkook acts with you, let’s be honest he’s head over heels for you,” Jisoo argued, putting an arm around you. “I can see him standing up for you.”
“Yeah, I hate to give a man any credit, but he would.”
“And again, if he doesn’t…” Jisoo didn’t finish her sentence, instead showing you her oh so brilliant and not wobbly but actually super fatal kick.
They both turned to you, and you slowly nodded. Maybe they were right. You didn’t necessarily think Jungkook would stand up for you, not because you didn’t believe he would but because you didn’t even let yourself go there. If you did, if you assumed he would do something like that for you, you’d be having expectations for him and you had no right to. But you knew that Chaeyoung and Jisoo would be there for you, and it was a comforting thought. That was enough. Your friends were enough. And maybe, you just liked to believe them too—that it would all somehow turn out just fine.
“Yeah, I guess,” you mumbled.
“It’s gonna be fine!” Chaeyoung repeated, squeezing your shoulder.
Before you could dwell on it any further, a knock on the kitchen door interrupted you. 
“Yeah?” Jisoo said, and a moment later, Hoseok stuck his head in, offering an apologetic smile because he obviously knew what was going on in here.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Jimin asked for you, Chae,” he said, sounding unsure. He clearly hadn’t gotten a reason as to why he was supposed to call for Chaeyoung. She frowned and seemed less than willing to go, but you saw this as a great opportunity to put an end to this conversation and move on. Ignoring the fact you were going to meet Jungkook’s parents wasn’t going to solve the issue, but right now your brain felt mushy and drained. Too much of today’s focus had been on you, you couldn’t do it any longer.
“Let’s just all go,” you said. “We’ve been here for too long anyway.”
Jisoo agreed, mumbling something about how she couldn’t leave Jennie alone with all of the guys outside any longer, not in good conscience at least. She helped you put the last few plates into the dishwasher, and hooked her arm with yours as you made your way back into the living room, her head resting on your shoulder.
“Did he say what he wanted?” Chaeyoung asked Hoseok, the two walking behind you. 
“Probably something stupid.”
And indeed it was.
Because the moment Jisoo and you had made it past the doorstep, Jimin jumped up and pointed at Chaeyoung and Hoseok. The two froze, all eyes on them, and when you turned to look, you found them in the same fate as Jungkook and you had been in earlier.
“Oh, Jimin,” you chuckled, shaking your head. He beamed with pride, chest out and a grin bigger than his entire face. 
“We aren’t-” Chaeyoung couldn’t even finish her sentence, sputtering for words. “No! This is… stupid!”
“You have to. Otherwise, it’s bad luck,” Jungkook grinned. “That’s what you said, right, Seok?”
Hoseok looked positively ready to strangle him, but you couldn’t have been prouder of him right now. Even though Jimin was the one to orchestrate this, it felt like sweet revenge to get back at Hoseok. And really, you were helping him and Chaeyoung. Maybe today was the day finally something would happen.
“Seok and I aren’t- we aren’t-”
“It’s just a kiss!” Seokjin said, and you nodded. Because as much as you felt for them, having been in their position, you knew Chaeyoung wouldn’t have come to your rescue. She might have disapproved, but she would have definitely enjoyed the show and let it go on until you kissed.
“Just do a quick peck,” Taehyung suggested, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek to demonstrate. The older one wiped his cheek and shook his head, but there was clear amusement tugging on the corners of his mouth too. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, especially when you caught the embarrassed looks on Chaeyoung’s and Hoseok’s faces.
“Also if you hadn’t walked in together like I had predicted you obviously would, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” Jimin said, and Hoseok let out a noise that could only be described as a weak and mangled attempt at faux upset. “You guys are so clearly in love with each other anyway, just kiss!”
“Oh my God,” Chaeyoung let out a scoff, but it sounded pitchy and panicked, “seriously? H-how many times do we have to tell you guys that we are just really good friends? Just like Jimin and Y/N!”
“Don’t be ridiculous here, Chae,” you laughed. “Jimin and I are just friends, but you two? Oh, please.”
“There was an attempt, huh?”
Chaeyoung glared at Jisoo, her cheeks gaining a deeper shade of red with every passing second. In a last ditch attempt, she turned to Hoseok, hoping for some backup from him.
“Tell them-”
This time when her sentence got lodged in her throat, it was for a very different reason. Because Hoseok was looking at her like he was ready to risk it all in front of everybody. Like he was ready to just say it, do something. And Chaeyoung knew, freezing to a statue.
Jisoo and you looked at each other, gasping. Her nails dug into your arm and you held onto her just as strongly. Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoseok placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s cheek, pausing and hesitating for a moment, as if he waited for her to reject him before ultimately kissing her. And instantly, she pulled him closer.
It was like a scene out of every 2000s romantic comedy, the finale of the third act, what you had all been waiting up to. It was a scene to swoon and die for. 
A sense of joy you had rarely felt overtook you, a rush. You began shaking Jisoo, mouth split into a grin. As much as you had wanted and actually still wanted to strangle Jimin tonight for bringing that stupid mistletoe, you were just about ready to kiss him (platonically and only figuratively of course).
“See!” Jimin laughed, pointing at Hoseok and Chaeyoung, both of them flushed red to the tips of their ears. But they were smiling too. This had been good.
“I can’t believe that this is how you guys get together,” Jisoo laughed, Chaeyoung and Hoseok looking at each other, his arm wrapped around her middle. They laughed, shrugging.
Jimin proudly pointed at himself, beaming brighter than a Christmas tree. “All my doing.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi laughed, trying and failing to kick him in the knee. And though his attempt wasn’t successful, it earned him a thank you! from Chaeyoung. Jimin looked over to Namjoon for some kind of help, but he simply shrugged. He scoffed when he saw Seokjin squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder, mumbling something about how he was just jealous.
“I mean… neither did I,” Hoseok chuckled, seeming still completely out of it, unbelieving.
“Thought about it a lot, huh?” Taehyung asked, grinning, and for a moment, you could see Hoseok struggling to answer, decide whether or not he wanted to admit the blatant truth, confess that he’d been imagining this more times than he should have. In the end, he cared less about saving face and looking cool, and much more about who he had his arm wrapped around, finally.
“Yeah, always.”
And just like that, Chaeyoung pulled him down for another kiss. The sight warmed Jisoo’s heart because she turned to Jennie, reaching out for her. With a slight tug, she was at Jennie’s side. You laughed, shaking your head, just to catch Jungkook looking at you. For a moment, you didn’t quite know what to do even though you weren’t the one caught staring. The same couldn’t be said about Jungkook. He didn’t seem to care at all, eyes not holding an ounce of uncertainty. It was obvious that he was much more confident and comfortable with being seen by you. Something you still weren’t at this point, not entirely at least, not right in this very moment, or… actually ever.
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he stretched his hand out. You hesitated, if just for a second. Because maybe you shouldn’t. Not when your heart was beating the way it was. And yet, you did take it, did let him pull you close and hold you and press his lips to the top of your head.
“You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”
He whispered it, spoke in a soft and warm voice. His words floated to your ears, and you knew. You didn’t have to do anything ever actually. Not for him at least. He expected nothing from you. You closed your eyes, and listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Strong and firm. It was the opposite of yours. Yours was a mess, thumping and skipping beats. 
“I will.”
Jungkook smiled as bright as the sun, pressing another kiss to your head. You could feel the excitement rushing through his fingertips, his arm tightening around you. You didn’t know the reason for it, his excitement. It didn’t make sense why he would be, you weren’t his girlfriend after all. You refused to think about it, preferring the bliss of ignorance.
God, you loved him so much. You did. You loved Jungkook to an indescribable amount. And God, was it time to stop all of this.
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The video had been playing for less than twenty seconds when the call came in, your phone lighting up beside you. You paused your laptop, his name taking up your entire phone screen. And though Jungkook and you had begun calling each other more frequently now, spending at least once a week on the phone together, you were confused when you glanced at the time. But you accepted the call, sliding your thumb over the glass. Some ruffling met your ears before finally, he came through.
“Hi.”
For some reason, there was a smile on your lips.
“What do you want?” you laughed, glancing at the time in the upper left corner of your phone. 01:24. “It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Could say the same about you,” Jungkook argued, and you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly, already sensing where this was going. You leaned back into your couch, looking at the ceiling with renewed interest.
“I’m not tired.”
“Neither am I.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then neither do I.”
“Well, you had a full day of classes today, so you must be at least a little tired,” you shot back, and a beat of silence passed. For a moment, it seemed like you came out victorious. 
“You know my schedule?”
The question hung in front of you, and you were glad that this was just a call. Because you could see it, his stupid face. The proud smile on his lips, the grin that adorned it. He would inch closer to you, push you to answer, and you would cave and crumble terribly. 
“... no.”
And Jungkook began laughing almost immediately, his voice booming through your phone. You cringed, biting your tongue. 
“I’m going to hang up.”
“No, no, no, don’t,” he said, still laughing however. “I’m sorry.”
His apology didn’t sound an ounce sincere, but you were never going to actually hang up. A comfortable silence passed, and you could have stayed on the phone forever.
“Oh, have you watched the newest video I sent you yet?”
“You mean the two hour long video essay about the phenomenal music scoring of Avatar?” you hummed, glancing over to your laptop to see the screen dark already. “Yeah, I was about to watch it when you called.”
Somehow, you could hear his smile forming on his lips. “You should watch it.”
“Yeah, I will,” you said, sighing and rolling your eyes.
There was silence for another few seconds. 
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, and you could tell he was genuinely curious. You blinked, having completely forgotten what you had been up to until he called. You looked at the ball of yarn sitting in your lap, your attempt at a scarf hanging between the two knitting needles. But you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin the surprise. 
And so, you returned the question instead. “What are you doing?”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
Jungkook sighed. “You’re very fun to talk to sometimes, you know?”
You laughed, not missing the irony in his voice. “Thanks. You are too.”
“Just tell me,” he said, and you frowned at his poor attempt to get you to talk. 
“Why don’t you tell me first?”
He let out a small scoff, and you could picture his face perfectly. The way his tongue would be digging into his cheek and his eyes rolling back because God, you were frustrating sometimes! But there would be an undeniable smile on his lips. There always was. 
“Alright,” Jungkook said, and you raised your brows. “I’m outside.”
You frowned. “Where are you going? At this hour?”
“Why don’t you guess?” 
“Just tell me.”
He paused, hesitated. Somehow, you could hear his grin turn bigger.
“How about you look outside and see for yourself instead?”
Your heart sank in your chest, something strange taking hold of you. You moved without a thought, almost knocking over one of your pothos sitting on your window sill when you pulled the curtain aside. The glass was cool to touch, but you pressed your entire hand against it, just to feel something steady. Because right now, you felt the opposite of it, heart jumping to your throat and beating there like it was bound to fall out. Because there was no way that he was here right now! This wasn’t a cheesy romcom! But you also knew that he wouldn’t lie to you.
And he didn’t. 
There he was, standing on the sidewalk, in front of your building, phone pressed to his ear, head in his neck, mouth in a grin and waving up to you. 
You opened and closed your mouth several times, scoffing in the end and shaking your head.
“You’re so… stupid, Jeon.”
Jungkook laughed, “Well, that’s been established before.”
“You’re such a ridiculous stupid little man, Jeon!” you went on, pressing a hand to your forehead and squeezing your eyes closed for a moment. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, is it a crime now to drop by your girlfriend’s home when you miss her?”
The words rolled off his tongue with a certain confidence and ease. Two things you rarely ever had, even less around Jungkook. It always seemed so very fragile and dangerous, to be so open and vulnerable. You couldn’t snap back, tell him how ridiculous he was because you had just seen each other two days ago at the Christmas party. Hell, you had been spending almost every day with each other—either on the phone or in person driving to Seo’s bakery to pick up your needed batch of cookies or watching Avatar until you both could recite every line. And yet here he was, telling you that he missed you, so much so that he needed to see you in the middle of the night, at 1:42.
Right then, it became blatantly obvious to you—that Jungkook and you had crudely blown the lines you had established beforehand, agreed to contractually, into absolute smithereens, that you two had made new ones, dangerous ones, ones that resembled an actual relationship, and that, even worse, you had not only never talked about it but gotten used to the new rules, comfortable.
And even with that realisation lingering in your mind with big glaring bright red flags hissed high above and every possible alarm blaring in the air, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Jungkook that this was wrong, that he should go home. You should, it would spare your sanity. But your heart had only grown bigger and fonder of him. And it was horrible because you knew even more time with him, alone, in your own four walls, was the worst thing you could do. There would be nowhere for you to go, run off to. But you couldn’t send him home. Because really, you didn’t want to. Because it did excite you. That he was here. That he had gotten up, changed, and made his way to you. That the cold hadn’t even been enough to stop him.
“Now, open up. It’s freezing. My hands and feet are already blue,” he told you, adding a dramatic shiver to his words.
You paused, frowned, searched and didn’t see it anywhere. It clicked with you. You hadn’t heard the engine or turn signal during the entirety of your call. 
“Did you- did you walk here? Why didn’t you take your car?”
“Felt like it.”
“You’re so stupid, oh my God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you repeatedly pressed the buzzer to open the front door for him. “Never ever do that again. It’s freezing outside!”
Jungkook responded with a laugh. It echoed on the walls of your empty lobby, reverberating through the phone. “Alright, I won’t. I promise.”
“Also, shouldn’t you be writing that stupid paper about Newton or Einstein or whatever?”
“It’s not about either of them, but I still have a bit of time until the deadline,” he explained, and you heard him walk up the stairs. “Thanks for remembering though.”
You pressed your lips together. “What if I was sleeping?”
“But you aren’t.” He sounded so incredibly smug and proud. You could have punched him. “Also, I know you, cabbage. You’d rather die than go to bed at a reasonable time.”
And somehow, that admission embarrassed you. It did. Terribly. Because he did, he did know you oh so well. 
You left the front door ajar for him, waiting there with your hands folded in front of you, fingers picking on each other, as you listened to his steps grow closer and louder. His hand was the first thing you saw, reaching and touching the doorknob, and then it was suddenly just all of him. In front of you. He smiled at your sight, and you knew you looked more embarrassed and unsure than ever before. You were relieved you still hadn’t changed the lightbulb that had burned through all those months ago, allowing the dark to obscure you from him, a soft shadow across your face. 
Jungkook shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook behind the front door and revealing his maroon knit sweater and black pants to you. When he looked at you again, his gaze softened.
“Hi, cabbage.” His cheeks and nose were brutally red from the wind, but he seemed as happy as ever. “I made you something.”
You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hands only when he pushed it towards you, and when you took it, it was still warm. Like whatever he had prepared, he had packed up the minute it was done and came straight to you. 
“What did you make?” you asked, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you, waiting for you to open the lunchbox instead and discover for yourself. You peeled open the lid just a little, revealing a small corner when the smell hit you. Your eyes shot to Jungkook, and he looked both sheepish and proud. 
“You didn’t.”
A gasp, your features melting. He wrinkled his nose, turned his head to the side.
“I was gonna go get some from Seo’s Bakery, but they- did you know they’re on Christmas break?”
You nodded, eyes unable to take off of him, blabbering, “Yeah, of course. They always are. Every Christmas. Have always been.”
Jungkook made a gesture towards you, shrugging. “Well, so I thought- I don’t know. I’d make you some instead. You gotta fuel your addiction somehow, right?”
There was no denying how many sweet gestures Jungkook had made ever since you’d been doing this (whatever one might classify this as). The amount of flowers and cookies he’d showered you with. The amount of smiles and laughs he’d pulled from you. The amount of love he’d shown you, even if it wasn’t real. 
You put the lunchbox aside, needing to return the gesture at least once. Leaning over your couch, you grabbed the half-finished scarf you’d made for him. You wanted to show him, reciprocate some of the affection and love. But in your haste, you forgot the ball of yarn the scarf was connected to.
“Oh, fuck.”
Like a roll of paper, it unfurled, and though it would be annoying to roll it all up again, you shoved the scarf into Jungkook’s face, uncaring.
“It’s not finished- or particularly well done. But- I made that… for you,” you hesitated, a lump lodged in your throat. “I also just chose a random colour- if you don’t like red, I could definitely change it, you know. It’s not even done-”
He took it from your hands, silencing you. Your brows knit together as you watched him admire the intricate and detailed rows of red yarn. And then, he wrapped it around his neck even though the scarf was still attached to the ball of yarn and the knitting needles were poking into his neck. 
“Wait, no,” you laughed, already reaching to take it off. “You don’t have to wear it or anything- Like I said, it’s not even done. I still have to-”
Jungkook took hold of your hands. Your eyes met his. He smiled at you. 
“You’re so cute, cabbage,” he told you, his gaze so full and soft. And you melted right then and there, your face lit up like a fire. Melted even more so when Jungkook kissed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love it, cabbage. Thank you so much.”
“Really?” you said it softly, delicately, anxiously.
As if it was a proper way of responding, Jungkook took your hand and placed it on his chest. You could feel it then, under your palm and fingertips, through the fabric of his sweater, his heart. 
“Really.”
And you let yourself believe him a little.
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You don’t know how. It was blurry to you, all of it, but somehow, his head ended up in your lap with your fingers threading through his hair and your back pressed to the side of your bed. You both shared the batch of cookies while you finished a few more rows for the scarf before ultimately calling it, putting it to the side, promising him you’d finish it as soon as possible. Instead, a bottle of supermarket wine found its way into your hands, the glasses always filled with the red liquid. Neither of you said much. And really, there simply wasn’t a need to, the minutes ticking by as the night went on and on. An intimacy lay between you, an intimacy most would never know, an intimacy that could only come from the strange nature of your relationship. 
“What?” you said, almost laughing, sure you had to have misheard him.
“I’m serious. I really like it here,” Jungkook repeated. “I like your home, a lot.”
Your mouth opened and closed before you shook your head and laughed. “But why?”
To you, there wasn’t much to like about your home here. If anything there was more to dislike than like. It was too cramped, too small. The furniture was old and shabby and the lights didn’t even work properly. On bad days, it would get either unbearably freezing or hot in here. And on particularly bad days where your luck had run out, the water would run cold and the electricity cut out. There wasn’t much to love here, except for your big bed and pothos you had on your window sill.
“I feel like I get to see another side of you,” Jungkook told you, shrugging and wrinkling his nose. “You seem much more relaxed at home.”
You frowned. “Where else should I be relaxed if not at home?”
He rolled his eyes at your comment, shaking his head. “No, I just mean… you don’t seem on guard at home.”
“I’m on guard?”
There was a pause. He looked at you for a long time, eyes wandering across your entire face.
“Yeah, sometimes.” He wrinkled his forehead a little. “I think you used to be more on guard, or at least you were around me.” There was another pause, another beat, another moment of suspense. “Wouldn’t you say you’ve opened up to me more since you let me in here for the first time?”
The question stumped you. Because did everything really change then? You couldn’t say. To a certain degree, Jungkook was right. Things had drastically shifted between him and you. Before you would have never been in this position—on the floor together, in your home, his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair as you shared cookies and wine. But before you would have talked about it, established rules and laws and all kinds of conditions, and gone through every possibility. Now though, the two of you had gotten awfully comfortable with just simply not.
“Why? Because I slept with you?” you quipped, knowing already even in your slightly tipsy state that it wasn’t that.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, sighing. You wrinkled your nose and looked to the ceiling for a few moments, leaning your head back.
“Should I be on guard?”
“Around me?” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “No, never. I’m an honest boy.”
You laughed, even more so when you looked at him and he was grinning proudly into your face, standing by his cheesy words. “You make me want to kick you out.”
“Please don’t,” he said, offering you puppy eyes and snuggling even closer to you. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you did.”
He winced when you tugged on his hair, slightly away from you. “You’re annoying.”
Jungkook laughed, and you went back to silence for a while.
“Are you ever going to tell me what Joon and the others said to you that made you run into the bathroom the other day?”
It was probably the alcohol, all the time you had spent together, sitting there on the cold floor. Your mind wasn’t the clearest anymore, and neither was his. 
“They just told me how whipped you are for me. How deeply and madly you’re in love with me,” you snorted, teasingly inching closer to his face with each word before pulling away. 
He smiled a little, clearly expecting worse. “Really? They said that?”
“I know.” You took two big sips, downing more than half of what was in the glass, not wanting to lose that fuzzy feeling in your veins. “It’s funny, right?”
You snorted, knowing exactly what he was thinking—That was ridiculous! 
“But true.”
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. But he said it softly. So softly in fact you looked at him to check that you hadn’t made it up. When his mouth widened into a grin, you scoffed.
“Oh, shut up.”
“It’s true. I do. I am.”
It sounded so very ironic to your ears. You shook your head and scoffed. “Is that what you told Narae too?”
Her mention from your lips surprised Jungkook, his eyes growing a little wider. You were equally as taken aback. But it was true. Because you did think about it sometimes if he did and said the same things to Narae. If everything you experienced with him had been experienced before, just with someone else, someone with a perfect smile and perfect parents. 
“You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” Jungkook mumbled, and it sounded accusatory. 
Your heart dropped in your chest. It felt like you were shot, the hurt instant. You looked away, teeth sinking into your tongue. But he wasn’t off. You didn’t know Jungkook very well. Why should you though? Not like he and you were anything meaningful, like you shared anything truthful. And it was so very embarrassing, so very embarrassing that you felt hurt at all. 
Jungkook seemed to surprise himself with his words, seemed not to mean it like that because he was scrambling the very next second, lifting up from your lap and pleading for you to look his way. 
“No, no, no, I-I don’t mean it like that,” he said, voice a little higher than usual, reaching for your hand, squeezing. There’s a desperation in his voice, a panic swinging with it that he might have just ruined a perfectly fine conversation. 
“You just seem to,” he hesitated, “have this very weird and funny idea of me in your head. I-I never told Narae anything like that. You’re the first one.”
You looked at him. There was a deep crease between his brows, and he went on when you wouldn’t say anything.
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me do these weird things, you know?” He added a chuckle, but there wasn’t much humour to it at all. You tried to smile for him, feeling this conversation was taking a rather serious turn. It was in dire need of some lightness.
“I make you do weird things?” you mumbled, slightly shaking your head, looking away. “I don’t think I’m capable of that.”
“Do you really think I’d try to bake cookies for anyone else in the middle of the night? Or walk to their home at night, not knowing if they’re even actually home because I wanted to surprise them? Or send every Avatar video essay I come across? Do you really think I’d want to dress up with anyone else in a couple’s costume than you?”
You couldn’t find the right response then, your lips pressing together. It was difficult for you to say whether or not you believed him. Because you didn’t think you did, not genuinely at least, not deep down. You never really did with Jungkook, believe him. Because you never let yourself go there, not fully. In the back of your mind, you knew that this was ending, only started because of a stupid little meaningless bet, that your relationship whichever form it had morphed to had no real genuine basis. 
“Do you really think I’d tell anyone else I-”
You shoved a cookie into his mouth, silencing him. Your gaze turned sideways, it was easier to speak for you then. If you looked at Jungkook, you wouldn’t be able to say anything.
“Alright, I got it, Jeon. Now, eat your cookie and shut up,” you chuckled, and your words were accompanied with a lightness, a lightness you forced out of yourself and hoped was enough to quiet Jungkook. He stared at you, eyes big, before ultimately letting out a chuckle himself when he saw you smile at him. He held onto your hand, squeezing it. 
“If I wasn’t too lazy to reach for my phone, I’d take a picture of you right now,” he told you with his mouth stuffed, matching your tone, keeping it light and fun. It was amazing, how both of you simply moved on. He broke off a piece and held it to your mouth. You took it from his fingertips, letting him feed you. The sugar melted on your tongue. “Really thought you had learned your lesson, you know? That you were less judgemental now.”
“Shut up,” you mumbled, still chewing. He laughed when you rolled your eyes.
For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. It seemed like the moment had resolved as easily as it had come up. You took a few sips from your glass, filling it back up when you emptied it, and Jungkook shared the last bite of the cookie with you, holding the piece in front of your lips and allowing you to pull it from his fingertips. And when he kept his fingers in front of your mouth, you pressed a quick kiss to them. He smiled and took your hand into his again, fingers interlacing. 
“You’re so weird,” you said, the corners of your eyes creasing when you smiled. 
Jungkook returned it, opened his mouth to retort something clever and funny, but it was like the fire died in him, as if he simply couldn’t let the moment from before slide as easily as you both had hoped and tried for it to. He reached for it again, pulling it back on shore. His face changed, morphed into something else. You couldn’t pinpoint his exact expression, but your stomach churned. For a second, you felt this brief need to cry.
“You—” He hesitated, afraid to ask because he knew you didn’t want him to and he shouldn’t but he needed to ask. “—believe me, right?”
And somehow that question carried the entire weight of the earth because you suffocated underneath it in an instant. There seemed to be so much. It didn’t make sense, there shouldn’t be any deeper meaning behind his question. After all, he and you weren’t anything! And yet, he looked at you as if you were. When you wouldn’t respond, looked away instead, Jungkook let out a chuckle. But it sounded empty and dry, and you knew you had hurt him. 
“I’m sorry.”
There was a sadness to your words, and he noticed. It was the same kind of sadness he heard colouring your words when you had told him about Jaehwa and the heartbreak that had come with him. And he knew then not to take it to heart, your inability to believe him.
“I’m sorry. I want to- It’s just-”
There was desperation, hurt, frustration. You buried your face into your hands, eyes closing. It’s just hard sometimes! I don’t really believe anyone really, you wanted to say. But you didn’t. The admission felt too much, too hard to bring over your lips, too honest. You couldn’t do it. 
Jungkook didn’t say anything, and you waited for him to take all of his things and go. The front door would click shut and with that, you would have ruined it, all of it, the past few months. But it didn’t happen. You didn’t hear his steps moving away from you, or the front door opening. Instead, Jungkook cupped your face with both of his hands, a smile on his lips when you finally looked at him.
“It’s fine.”
And you wished it felt like that to you. Fine. But you hadn’t felt quite fine for a while now. Not since your heart began filling up every time you looked at him. 
“Is it?”
His gaze softened, melted like the first layer of snow in the early morning hours. His thumb brushed over your cheekbones, and his touch was so very warm and comforting. You closed your eyes, and he pressed his lips to yours. It did feel fine right then when he kissed you. He held you firmly and strongly, he wasn’t going to let go. Even if you might not believe him and had your doubts. Your hands curled around his shirt, and you were the one to pull it off of him. Because you needed that right now, something simple. 
“Are you sure-”
You silenced him, removing your shirt. He looked at you for another second before kissing you again. You moved up from the floor to your bed. His lips pressed to every inch of your skin, slow and delicately. Your breathing flattened, soft whimpers emerging from your throat when his hands wandered, brushed the inside of your thighs. Jungkook was everywhere, holding and gripping and squeezing and kissing. It made your chest swell, and for a second, you thought you needed a second heart. Another one to hold it all in. All the feelings brewing inside you, all of your feelings for him. It was too much to bear for your one singular heart.
He held you, stayed close. He never allowed any space between him and you, never allowed you to think he’d get up and leave. And you never let him slip away from you, not tonight, caging him in. One day he would, you were certain of it, convinced. The contract was running up with each day, but right now, he was here, closer than ever.
And in the high of it all, your breaths mixed with his, the air smelling of sweat and lust, your faces flushed and bodies sticky, there were words lying between him and you. In fact, there was so much, it felt heavy. You hoped, in vain, he would let it slide, quietly.
“Y/N, I-”
Jungkook stopped when you shook your head, pleading. You knew the ending of his sentence, he had told you it many times before. And right now, the thought of hearing it, hurt you more than it ever had before. 
“I-”
But he stopped again when you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in response, hands cupping his face. He hesitated at first before kissing you back, hoping you’d understand either way. That he wanted this. That he wanted you. You didn’t say it, but Jungkook knew not to cross that line, not right now. As if him not saying it would prevent the inevitable heartbreak you’d be going through in just a few weeks, would change anything. As if you didn’t already love him more than you could comprehend. As if loving him didn’t hurt you.
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→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!
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kamiversee · 1 month
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 48 || The Drama (part 3)
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, semi-angst, & heated tension.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5k
[ { A/N } ] ➤ Prepare to drop your jaw a few times and possibly take a TikTok break or two ^.^
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——YOUR EYES LOCK WITH Geto’s and his eyebrows immediately rise, the two of you equally surprised to see each other.
Please pretend not to know me, please pretend not to-, “Heyy Gorgeous, what’re you doing here?” Geto greets you, completely forgetting about Yuki who he initially came to meet.
Dammit Suguru, you had one job. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you sigh heavily, “Uh, Hi Suguru…”
Of course, alarms are going off in Choso’s head from the moment he heard a guy’s voice refer to you as gorgeous, quickly turning his head to see just who the fuck you were talking to. He disliked how quickly he got jealous but he couldn’t help himself sometimes, especially when he recognized the face of the man who’d approached the table.
Geto sends a smile to Yuki before taking a seat beside her and across from you. Your heart rate is all over the damn place. How the fuck are you gonna get out of this situation?
Wait no, calm down, Geto wouldn’t say anything crazy right…?
Yuki smacks Geto’s arm playfully as soon as he sits down, “Took ya’ long enough, I was here for like an hour waiting on you!”
Geto rolls his eyes, “You’ll live.”
“Tch,” Yuki scoffs before placing a hand on his shoulder and looking at you, “Well, I would introduce you two but it seems you guys already know each other.”
“Uh,” You’re sweating and you don’t miss how Choso’s staring at the side of your face, “Yeah, we know each other.”
Geto leans back into his seat, comforting himself as he parts his legs and locks eyes with you, “Oh we definitely know each other.”
You grit your teeth. This is going to go so horribly…
Yuki, oblivious to it all, then looks at Choso, “And what about you, Cho? You know this guy too?”
Choso looks at Geto and Geto looks at Choso.
There’s some kinda tension you sense, “Yeah,” Choso scoffs, “I know his shitty ass brother.”
Your brows furrow and you look at Geto, “You didn’t tell me you had a brother.”
Geto chuckles at Choso, “Yours isn’t any better than mine,” He says before returning his sights to you, “And I didn’t tell you because he’s annoying and there was never any reason for me to bring him up.” He explains with a shrug.
You pout, “Still would’ve been nice to know…”
“He’s a weirdo, you wouldn’t like him anyways,” Geto claims.
Choso’s looking at you again, a million thoughts running through his head as you oh so casually talk to Geto. He studies your body language, watching how you sit back and fold your arms under your chest, still pouting.
Do you even realize how you look in the eyes of others? Are you actually aware of how flirtatious your movements come off as? Choso dislikes how blind to your own actions you seem.
Yuki clears her throat, “Anyways guys,” She begins, “Now I’m really curious! Geto, how do you two know each other?” She questions you and the raven-haired man across from you.
Again, the two of you meet eyes and you send him a look. Does he catch this look? Yes and no. Yes, he can tell something’s off but no, that doesn’t stop what comes out of his mouth.
“Hmmm,” He hums in thought before leaning forward to rest his chin in his palm as he refuses to break eye contact with you, “Should I tell our story or should you?” Geto purrs in that pretty tone of his, smiling tauntingly at you.
You hate the way it flusters you too as memory after memory after memory floods your brain, “I mean, t-there’s not much of a story to tell, is there?”
The male tilts his head, completely ignoring the death stare he’s receiving from Choso as his eyes remain on you, “We met through…” He pauses, carefully picking his words, “A friend,” Geto explains.
You nod, your nerves dying down just a little bit, “Right, and then uhm…”
“Then we got close,” Geto continues for you before turning to Yuki, “And became really good friends.”
The sigh of relief you let out doesn’t fail to catch Choso’s ears— he could tell there was more to this story. There was obviously so much sexual tension just oozing from Geto’s eyes every time he looked at you and Choso wasn’t exactly going to let that slip past him.
“Really good friends, huh?” Choso echos.
Your heart jumps and you turn to the man, “Yeah…”
Geto moves his gaze over to Choso and smirks, “Yeah, really good friends.”
The snarky attitude coming from Geto did nothing more than piss Choso off, “That’s it? Just friends?”
The male across from you moves to fold his arms over the table and leans forward a bit, his brows knitting together and a cocky smile spreading across his overly handsome features.
“Just friends…” He repeats, his eyes unwavering as he maintains the visual hold with Choso.
You sigh but your next breath is caught in your throat within seconds.
“…Who fucked from time to time,” Geto added on.
Silence floods the table.
Your face goes hot and your heart sinks past your toes and to hell with how nervous you become. A vein pops out in Choso’s forehead, Yuki’s eyes are wide and she’s got an amused smile on her face, and Geto’s sitting there with a smug expression as he continues to stare Choso down.
“Holy fuck!” Yuki bursts out laughing, breaking the tension completely. She began to wheeze and hit Geto’s arm a few times along with the table because of how hard she was laughing.
She’s cackling and choking on her own laughter before she eventually settles down and looks at you, “So you really do have a type!” She breathes.
Your face is burning in embarrassment, shame, and guilt. “I…”
“Dark-haired depressed-looking men, huh?” Yuki recalls, looking back and forth between Choso and Geto, “Oh this is too good.”
Choso glares for a moment longer before he clicks his tongue, sits back in his seat, and nods. He’s ticked off but, in courtesy of you and knowing he’s not your boyfriend, he tries his best to simmer the emotion.
Well, that was until he looks at you, “Friends who fucked? Seriously?”
You look at him, shame flooding your eyes, “I, uh… I-“
“Is he…” Choso’s eyes narrow and he gives you a look.
You’re unsure of what his look meant but Geto interrupted the moment by speaking yet again, “Is there a problem?”
Choso just barely looks at the guy, “If there was it would’ve been solved by now. Calm yourself.” He voices out in a nonchalant tone.
Geto scoffs, “Oh trust me, I’m calm. Are you?” He questions in return as he quirks a testing brow.
Choso sizes him up and down and then nods, “Yeah.”
You hate yourself for thinking it but the two were kinda hot going back and forth like that.
Yuki is barely holding in her laughter, “Okay so wait-,” She snickers, “Lemme’ get this whole thing straight….” Pointing at Choso, she smiles and looks at you, “He likes you,” She says, moving to point at Geto, “And you’ve fucked him?”
“W-Well, I’ve fucked both of them before, actually,” You correct timidly.
“Slut,” Geto mumbles under his breath playfully. He didn’t mean it in a mean way, of course, he knows the truth behind your situation to some extent.
You look at him, “Pervert.”
“Ha!” Yuki huffs, “Damn, how do I get myself involved in this love triangle?”
Choso drags his gaze over toward the blonde, “You don’t because there is no love triangle.” He explains. Then, Choso moves to toss an arm over your shoulder and pulls you to him, “Whatever they had goin’ on is dead,” He claims.
Your brows furrow and you look at Choso as your body is held against his, “Cho-“
He looks at you, “Is it not?”
You swallow your words down, “Y-Yeah, it is but-“
“Ohhh, I get it now,” Geto chimes in, “Thisss is why you stopped hooking up with me.” He points out, “I thought Satoru told you to stop or something-“
“Suguru, please.” You utter through gritted teeth as you look at him with begging eyes.
He raises a brow and his face twists up in confusion, “Please what? I just never knew why you stopped calling me to have sex.” Geto shrugs, “Didn’t know you went and found yourself a new fucktoy-“
A vein pops out along Choso’s jawline and he’s trying so very hard not to snap, “Say somethin’ else.” He challenges the male sitting across from you suddenly.
Geto’s eyes flick over to Choso in an instant and he tilts his head, “Fuck are you gonna’ do? I haven’t said anything wrong, have I? Calm yourself.”
Choso scoffs, “I am calm.”
“You look like you’re about to pop a blood vessel over there,” Geto points out, chuckling a bit, “And I don’t get why either? Are you two dating?”
Choso’s starting to hate that question more and more because the answer is still ‘no’ no matter what he says or does. Therefore making his anger seem dramatic and unprovoked.
You decide to answer, “Not yet.”
That’s when it clicks for Geto that he may have crossed a line or two, “Oh? Well, sorry if I offended your soon-to-be boyfriend,” He says with a huff, finding the whole thing entertaining if anything.
Choso rolls his eyes and turns his head to the side. He wants to leave so desperately. He hates Geto, hates Yuki at the moment, and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling toward you.
“I-It’s fine,” You murmur, mustering up your confidence again, “After all, Yuki and Choso used to fuck so I don’t exactly see a problem here…”
Choso’s eyes go wide and he turns his head to you, “Well Yuki didn’t just go blurting it out and she also doesn’t look at me like she wants to rip me out of my clothes.”
You look at him with your brows pinched together, “Why’re you saying this to me like I told Suguru to go and blurt everything out.”
“Cause’ maybe if you told me about this before it’d be less awkward.” Choso fires back. For the first time ever, he’s irritated with you.
“I did.” You huff out, “We had this conversation months ago.”
Yuki and Geto are watching the two of you go back and forth— Yuki snickering and Geto acting as though he were watching some kinda TV show as he carefully eats one of the forgotten cookies on the table.
“Did we?” Choso questions, cocking an eyebrow.
“The same time you told me about Yuki, I told you about Suguru.” You recall the memory like it was yesterday, “I just never said his name.”
“Yeah,” Choso scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I wonder why.”
Your face twists up in annoyance, “Didn’t seem necessary.”
“How’s it seem now?” Choso asks.
You fall quiet and so does he, both of you simply glaring at one another. His arm is still around your shoulder and both of you are upset with each other for the first time. 
You dislike how he’s acting about this as if you didn’t tell him there were people you slept with before you started talking to him and Choso can’t stand the fact that one of your old flames is at the table openly flirting with you.
“Damn,” Geto purrs, “You guys are in love, aren’t you?”
Both of you snap out of your challenging stares and turn to look at Geto in sync.
He nudges Yuki’s arm, “Look at ‘em arguing like a true couple. Kinda’ cute, no?” He teases. Deep down, Geto was studying the two of you more than he let on.
Yuki nods in agreement, “Hell yeah, even just now I couldn’t tell if they were about to rip each other apart or if they were about to start making out.”
Is that really how the two of you just seemed to others? Are the feelings you both hold of one another that obvious?
“Hah, y’know what…” Choso breathes, turning his attention to you once more, “Is there anyone else I need to know about?”
You freeze up. Every inch of your body just tenses and since Choso’s arm is still over your shoulder, he notices.
“There is, isn’t there?” He hums.
You glance at Yuki and Geto for a split second before meeting Choso’s questioning gaze, “Can we talk about this some other time and not in front of others?”
The male stares at you for a moment, thinking hard about what you just said before nodding, “Fine…”
“Yup,” Geto chimes in, “You two are adorable.” You both look at the man in sync for a second time and he laughs, genuinely admiring your dynamic, “See? Even your movements are synchronized.” 
“Anyway,” Yuki cuts in, “Before this gets too drama-induced, let’s change the subject a bit, yeah?”
All four of you collectively agree upon that seeing as it’d only been a few minutes and things were already going to shit.
Yuki focuses those pretty brown eyes of hers on you, “Though, I did want to ask, you seriously didn’t know Geto had a brother? Thought’ everyone knew that…”
You shrug, “I never really know much outside of what I’m told.”
“Uhuh…” She nods, slowly turning to the man beside her and giving him a nudge with her elbow, “And you didn’t tell her about Kenjaku because…?”
“I already said why.” Geto states simply, “He’s weird and no one likes him.” Then, he makes brief eye contact with Choso, “Well, I guess not no one apparently..”
Choso raises a brow, “Hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Geto tips his head to the side, “You hang out with him, no?”
“He hangs out with me.” Choso clarifies in a way that makes him seem like he’s not too fond of the man they’re talking about.
“Same difference, pigtails.” Geto spits back.
You kick Geto’s leg beneath the table and he winces before looking at you, quickly met with a look of warning. To which, he rolls his eyes.
Meanwhile, you’re also wondering how you haven’t crossed paths with the brother these three seem to be talking about… Or, any of Choso’s friends for that matter.
“Enough about my brother though,” Geto’s leaning back into his seat and he huffs out a sigh, “Heard’ yours almost got arrested last week.”
Your brows furrow and you decide to play innocent for only a moment, “What?”
Yuki starts nodding, “Yeah, I think he tried to kill someone this time-“
“Can we stop talking about him.” Choso requests. However, his words come off as a statement instead of a question.
You look at Choso, “Cho, what’re they talking about?”
The hairs on his body begin to stand up and he feels goosebumps surfacing. Choso keeps his head straight ahead, his eyes down at the table as he realizes he’s never told you about Sukuna.
Of course, you already know about the guy but from Choso’s perspective, you’re completely lost.
“Uhm.” Choso swallows, “I-“
“Wait,” Yuki cuts off, “You didn’t even tell her about your older brother?!” She questions loudly, tilting her head in a disappointed manner.
Choso feels himself shrinking in his seat, “You know why and that demon of a person is not my brother.”
You turn to Choso. If not for the list, you actually wouldn’t have known anything about Sukuna so, for some reason, it kinda upsets you as you think about how he didn’t open up to you about that man at all. And it’s even worse that everyone else seems to know except for you…
“Older brother?” You ask, tilting your head at Choso.
He avoids eye contact with you, “Don’t worry about it.”
Yuki scoffs, “Holy shit, your type is becoming scary consistent here. I mean, two dark-haired depressed lookin’ men who both never bothered to open up to ya’ about their family?” She points out to you.
You play off her words, “Yeah and I’d like to know why. You’ve told me about all your other brothers but failed to mention an older one.”
“He’s not my brother,” Choso repeats, almost as though he refuses to say anything else.
You narrow your eyes at him. Why is he lying about it and denying his relation to Sukuna? “You’re clearly lying and I don’t understand..”
“Just drop it, princess.” Choso sighs, softening his tone with you so that he doesn’t reveal how irritated he’s becoming.
You scoff, “You could at least tell me why you haven’t mentioned him before?”
“And you could at least drop the fuckin’ subject,” Choso curses, his eyes meeting yours.
Unlike earlier when you two bickered, it was getting a bit more serious. Something about the topic of Sukuna irked Choso to no end and whatever it is about their relationship, he didn’t want to share with you.
Naturally, knowing you already have one guy who keeps shit from you, you do not want to deal with another. Plus, this is the last thing you expected from Choso, he usually tells you everything so…
“What’s the big deal?” You ask, your face contorting into something both confused and concerned, “If you have an older brother, I feel like I should know who it is.”
“Right, and I feel like I should know all the guys you’ve fucked but it seems like not everyone gets what they want,” He fires back.
Oh something’s clearly off with Choso because in any other situation, he’d never say such a thing like that to you. Hell, even as the words left his lips, he regretted it but he wasn’t going to apologize just yet— he was too aggravated to do so.
And you, being the woman you are who doesn’t exactly take shit like this from anyone, you allow your tongue to slip just as he did, “Ever consider the possibility that he could be one of them and that’s why I want to know who he is?”
Geto lets out a whistle in complete shock, Yuki’s eyes are as wide as ever and her jaw is dropped, while Choso…
His arm comes off you and he instantly shoots up to his feet, taking a step backward and out of the booth with a face that almost seems as though he’s repulsed by what just came out of your mouth.
“The fuck did you just say?!” Choso shouts, anger taking over his expression at the suggestion of what you just told him.
His brows are tightly knit together, his fists have balled up, and his glare is so damn intense that for a moment, and only a moment, you not only felt fear but also as though you were shrinking under his gaze.
Even so, you still won’t allow Choso to yell at you the way he just did, “First off, calm the hell down, I didn’t say I fucked him, I said it’s a possibility.”
“How? How the hell is that even a possibility?!” He yells again.
“Because I’ve slept around before Choso. I’m not saying I had sex with the guy yesterday, I’m saying that at one point I was a freshman in college and explored myself the same way most people do!” You huff out to him, “So how about you sit the hell down and talk to me like you have some fuckin’ sense?”
He tilts his head at you and his eyes narrow. Choso opens his mouth but then he quickly shuts it. Even through his anger, he could only look at you like this for so long before the sight of your equally upset expression got to him.
His glare lasts for a second longer and Yuki leans toward the table to whisper, “Guys, you’re kinda’ causing a scene here…”
Choso looks around the cafe to see the few other people there looking over at the booth. To which, he only gets even more aggravated, “Fuck are you all staring at?” He spat.
Most of them pretended as though they hadn’t been just staring and returned to whatever they were doing. Meanwhile, you reach a hand over and grab Choso’s wrist before pulling him back into his seat.
For someone who you earlier couldn’t move against, he seemed to be moved by your tug rather easily and was quickly sat back down. He then goes as far as smacking your hand away from him in a way that says he didn’t want you touching him.
And that… that right there was what really did it for you, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, Choso, but I swear you have ten seconds to start explaining shit to me or I’m leaving.” You want him, your tone cold.
Choso scoffs and inches his face toward yours, “I fuckin’ dare you,” He challenges, “Leave me. Go ahead. All you’ll be leaving me for is some asshole who’s treated you like shit.”
Oh his words were so true that they were starting to sting. It was starting to get bad and both of you were on the verge of blowing up on the other.
“Excuse me?” You utter in disbelief.
“Did I stutter? You said there was someone else right? And whoever he is he’s an asshole right?” Choso recalls, “So if you wanna leave then do it. Leave.”
You grit your teeth, “I don’t understand why you’re being like this right now when all you have to do is tell me about your-“
“I’m not obligated to tell you shit about my family,” He cuts off, scoffing afterward, “Cause’ uh, I’m not sure if you forgot but you're not my girlfriend, remember?”
You nod and that agitated smile begins to spread across your face, “Right, and I sure as hell won’t ever be if you don’t explain yourself to me.”
Choso hesitates at the sound of that. You had him there completely. No longer could Choso keep it from you, especially not when the prospect of being your boyfriend was on the line.
Damnit, “My ‘older brother’s’ name is Sukuna,” He finally tells you, tipping his head to the side, “There? Happy now?”
“No, actually.” You murmur. 
Choso grows confused, “And why’s that? What is it now-“
“Cause’ I've had sex with him.” You blurt out.
Okay. It may be confusing as to why you just told him that. You could have lied. Hell, maybe you should’ve lied. But, given the situation, it was in your best interest to put the information out there from now.
When else would you get such an opportunity to do so? And if you later tell him, he’d only be more hurt if you didn’t tell him sooner.
“You what?” Choso breathes. His heart dropped. Anger hadn’t quite struck him yet because he wasn’t sure he heard correctly just now.
“I said I’ve had sex with him-“
Choso shoots to his feet again. His hands go up to his hair and he pushes some of the stray strands back a bit, trying to process what he just heard. “You… Y-You slept with…” His breathing grows erratic and his eyes just barely meet yours, “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not,” You say, your voice small. You could only hold this in for so long. You’d need to get this out eventually, “I-“
“You slept with that piece of shit?!” Choso yells again, almost like he can’t believe his own ears.
Geto tries to defuse the situation, “Hey, quit yellin’, we’ll get kicked out-“
“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me,” Choso fires his way before settling his anger back to you, “A-And you, you had sex with… You… Sukuna? Itadori Sukuna? The one with the face tats and pink hair? O-Of all f-fuckin’ people…” He stammers out.
“I didn’t know he was your brother,” You lie, “A-And again, it’s not like I did this yesterday-“
“None of that matters,” Choso heaves out, “T-That’s not the point. Do you have any idea who the hell you had sex with? Forget that he’s related to me, I don’t give a shit about that part, it’s the person he is and the shit he’s done t-that just makes me so… s-so fuckin’ angry that you’d ever even...”
His words fall off his tongue and he visibly grows disgusted. Though, you weren’t sure if that was directed toward you.
“Okay, wait.” You breathe out, moving to stand up just as he has, “If you’re not upset because I slept with him and he’s your brother then… what is it?”
“You seriously don’t know?” Choso asks blankly, confused how you could be so out of the loop.
You blink, “Obviously not?” Your reaction held nothing but the truth because, honestly, you never knew why people kept calling Sukuna an asshole when he was rather sweet to you-
“So you mean to tell me you’ve never heard anything about Sukuna before sleeping with him?” Choso questions.
You shake your head, “No. A-And from what I experienced he wasn’t a bad guy like he keeps being painted as-“
“Not a bad guy?!” Choso shouts, “Are you fuckin’ dense?”
You grow frustrated that he’s yelling at you in such a way. Sure he technically isn’t in the wrong here but if he’s coming from the perspective that you knew nothing and he never told you, he’s wrong for his reaction.
Had it not been for the list and you were truly confused, which you still somewhat are, Choso would still be wrong for being so angered like this as if you knew any better.
And sure, it was manipulative of you to pretend not to know but you needed to get the important parts of the truth out there and you needed to know why the hell Choso never opened up to you about this before.
“Dense?” You scoff, “No, I’m not fuckin’ dense, Choso. I’m confused. For someone who just loves their brothers, you not only failed to ever tell me about this one but also seemed to forget that I only know so much about the guy. I didn’t date him, I fucked him, that’s two different things-“
“So?” He scoffs, “How do you even sleep with someone like him? I can’t believe you.”
“Choso, what part of I don’t know what kinda’ guy he really is, do you not understand?” You exclaim, “Maybe if you just tell me what he’s done I can understand.”
Choso nods and then clicks his tongue, glancing off to the side for a moment before moving to take a step toward you, “Tell you what he’s done, yeah? You wanna’ know why no one fuckin’ likes him? Wanna’ know why people fear him? Hm?”
“I want to know something-“
“He’s a criminal,” Choso tells you, his voice low as he nears you, “But that’s just the tip of the damn iceberg, princess.”
You swallow hard and Choso steps even closer, “O-Okay, there are plenty of criminals out there, not to defend him of course but I don’t see how that-“
“He’s hit women before,” He explains further as he gets closer to you.
“Bullshit,” You spit. Why did you say it like that? Was there some secret attachment or need to defend Sukuna inside you that you were unaware of?
“Bullshit?” Choso’s right in front of you at this point, “Baby, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“I-“
“And you wanna know what else?” Choso whispers, leaning down to you, “Wanna know what makes him all the more insufferable?”
You swallow carefully, “W-What is it?”
“Well,” Choso tips his head to the side, “Imagine you had a younger stepbrother who you love more than anything in the world, with that younger brother comes an older asshole who not only bullies everyone he knows but also lays his hands on people…”
“Choso, a-are you saying he-“
“Yes.” He cuts off, “Sukuna doesn’t just fight random people, no. His favorite person to beat up on and fucking abuse is his twelve-year-old little brother.”
That’s when it all hits you. You now understand Choso’s hate for Sukuna.
“So, yeah, that’s the guy you fucked,” Choso says finally before straightening himself up, “Not just my older step-brother but also an abusive piece of shit.”
“Choso, I-“
“Nah,” He scoffs, “Save it. If that’s the kinda’ guys you’re into…” Choso simply trails off, he doesn’t even know what to say so he just shrugs, “I dunno’ baby, just… fuck, leave me out of it.”
He doesn’t mean that, does he?
You wish. You wish he didn’t mean that but as you stand there with wide confused eyes, Choso backs away before turning and just leaving.
The cafe is quiet and you didn’t even know what to do at first.
That was until, Geto leans forward against the table and whispers to you, “Go after him, idiot.”
You whip your head around to the man, “Y-You’re the one who brought this all up, y’know…” You say with a trembling voice.
Your emotions are all over the damn place, from regret to sorrow to annoyance to confusion and then even to just plain sadness. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know but the longer you stand there crying, the further he gets and the less time you have to explain yourself.” Geto points out in that soothing tone of his.
Water only wells up further in your eyes and you wish you never told Choso about what you did with Sukuna, “Suguru I c-can’t explain anything to him-“
“Yes you can,” He hums, and based on the look in his eyes, you finally get it.
Geto was acting as though this was all planned out…
“You…” Your eyes narrow, “You did all that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“He’s getting further awayyy,” Geto hums sweetly.
Damnit, you wish you could’ve stayed longer to dissect why the hell he just did all that but, your body moves on its own and you sigh and turn to run after Choso.
“You’ll thank me later!” Geto yells out to you finally.
Would you?
Would you really thank him later? 
Or, was this about to be the end of your relationship with Choso?
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙
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@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
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steveseddie · 2 months
Text
love is stored in a can of hairspray
rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 3,189
tags: eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, eddie munson is a sweetheart, steve has a bad hair week and eddie comes to the rescue, fluff, soft boys, first kiss, getting together
for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy” by @forgottenkanji
a/n: i'm a day late for this one but in my defense i had a wedding yesterday and it was a crazy day! enjoy!
click here to read on ao3
***
There’s a reason why Steve Harrington was dubbed “The Hair” of Hawkins.
In all the years Eddie has known Steve or known of Steve, he’s never seen him have a bad hair day.
It doesn’t matter if it’s rainy or sunny, if he’s wearing a Scoops Ahoy sailor hat or if he’s walking down the halls of Hawkins High or if he’s fighting Demobats in the Upside Down after taking a dive in Lover’s Lake, Steve Harrington’s hair always looked great. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. Well. He kinda does ‘cause Henderson is a blabbermouth who let Steve’s secret about the Farrah Fawcett hairspray slip one time, but Eddie still doesn’t understand how Steve always makes his hair look like that. He thinks there’s got to be magic involved, a deal with the devil so that Steve’s hair never looks bad.
That is until today.
Eddie arrives at the Wheeler residence and announces himself by ringing the bell three times just to be annoying. He waits for someone to come open the door for him, and in the meantime, crouches down to tie his Converse. The door opens while Eddie is still on the floor and the first thing he sees is a pristine pair of white Nikes that he could recognize anywhere.
“Well, well, well,” he says, tightening the laces and springing to his feet. “If it isn’t my favorite guy in all of Hawkins, I didn’t know you’d be- Jesus H. Christ, dude! What happened to your hair?” He blurts out the last part when his eyes land on Steve’s head. Or the thick untidy mass where his perfect hair should be, with strands matted on his forehead above his furrowed brow.
“Fuck you, man,” Steve grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.
Eddie feels a little bad, but his mouth-to-brain already leaves so much to be desired around Steve on a good day-
Not that Steve looks bad. Eddie is convinced that he couldn’t look bad if he tried, but right now he certainly doesn’t look like The Hair of Hawkins.
“Sorry, it’s just-” He waves vaguely at Steve’s head. “What’s up with that?”
Steve groans loudly. “A bunch of my products are sold out at every fucking store in Hawkins,” he explains for what seems to be not for the first time today. “Been meaning to drive to the next town over to get them, but I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts at Family Video that I haven’t had the time.”
Eddie nods. Steve told him he was trying to save up money to move out of his parents’ house, but it was slow going, so he started working more shifts recently to speed up the process. He’s been seeing less of Steve because of that, which Eddie hates, but he understands the urge to get out of that house.
“That sucks, man.”
Steve pouts, pink bottom lip jutting out. “Tell me about it, I look-” he gestures at his head and trails off with a huff.
“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him.
“Wheeler asked if a hamster died on my head,” he deadpans.
Fucking Wheeler. He’s gonna make him regret it during tonight’s campaign.
“Please, those kids wouldn’t know a good haircut if it bit them in the ass,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles a little. “Sure, it’s- different. Not what we’re all used to, but you still look-” Handsome, hot, beautiful. “You still look good, Harrington.”
Steve’s cheeks pink up slightly. “Thanks, Munson, but I don’t feel good, I don’t know. It’s just hair and it’s stupid, but I feel off.” He groans in frustration. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait two weeks and then-”
“Two weeks?”
“That’s when I finally get a day off.”
Eddie blows out a puff of air. “Jesus, Steve.”
“Apartments aren’t cheap, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I think Keith might make me manager by the end of the month. That would bump up my pay a bit, I just have to, you know, show him I can do it.”
“You got this, Stevie,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek. “No one rewinds and restocks like you do.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up into a smile.
“If you two are done, we have a campaign to start!” Dustin says, appearing behind Steve and giving them both an exasperated look.
They exchange one themselves at Dustin’s tone, which they agree that he still needs to get in check.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Steve says and Eddie tries not to jump in excitement when he realizes Steve is staying instead of just dropping off the kiddos. He’s been hanging around more and more during Hellfire meetings recently, even if he still doesn’t want to play. Eddie can’t complain about the last part, he likes just having him there.
He steps inside and Steve closes the door.
Dustin stares at Steve’s head.
“Quit staring, Henderson!” Steve protests and Dustin holds his hands up in defense.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just bad, dude.”
These fucking kids.
Eddie whacks Dustin upside the head. “Just for that, I’m making you roll with disadvantage for every attack you make tonight .”
Dustin’s eyes bulge out. “What! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly as they walk towards the basement.
Eddie suspects that Steve doesn’t know necessarily what that means, but he still gives him a grateful smile.
***
Eddie stares at the bag of hair products in his passenger seat.
He’s always been a whatever shampoo Wayne picks up from the store kind of guy, he’s never really spent money on hair products. Until now. And they’re not even for him.
He just spent a stupid amount of money on them, mostly because, even if he remembers how some of the bottles and hairspray cans Steve uses look like from using his bathroom when he stays over, he wasn’t sure which are the ones that Steve needs. So he bought a bunch of them.
In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater.
But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’.
But at the same time, he did this so he could see Steve smile and it would be a shame to miss it. He just hopes that Steve is too distracted by having his beloved hair products that he won’t think too hard about what Eddie did, or what it might mean.
With a short prayer to whoever’s listening so that Steve doesn’t figure out his crush today and rejects him, Eddie grabs the bag and walks up the driveway.
He knocks on the door before he can talk himself out of it, and bounces from foot to foot while he waits, hiding the bag behind him.
Steve opens the door and when he sees Eddie his eyebrows shoot up in his face, disappearing behind the few hairs that hang over his forehead. Over the last week, Steve experimented with other products, and while he managed to make his hair look a little less like something died up there, it’s still not the same. “Eddie?”
“Hey, Stevie.”
He checks his watch. “You’re early. Actually no, you’re always late so being on time is early for you, you’re like, really fucking early.”
Eddie snorts. “First of all, I’m never late, I arrive precisely when I have to.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But today I’m really fucking early, as you so eloquently put it, because I had to do some shopping first and then I drove straight here. In fact, I come bearing gifts,” he says, hands shaking a little with anticipation.
Steve eyes him curiously. “For the kids?”
“For you, my King,” Eddie says, finally allowing Steve to see the bag and presenting it to him in the most dramatic way. Hinging at the waist, holding the bag over his head, the works.
“Eddie, what are you- wait, is that- oh.” Steve goes silent when realization hits and Eddie starts spiraling. He tries to make light of it. “I humbly present to you the magic potions for your characteristic luscious hair, your Majesty.”
But when he glances up at Steve through his lashes, he looks like he’s close to crying. For a moment, he worries that he fucked up- bought all the wrong hairsprays and shampoos and now Steve is mad at him-
But then Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and yanking him up for a hug where the bag ends up squished between them.
“Christ, Eddie, thank you,” he says against his shoulder, and Eddie feels a sense of accomplishment wash over him, as well as butterflies flying in his stomach from Steve holding him like this.
One of Eddie’s arms wraps around Steve’s waist. “I don’t know if I got all the right ones ‘cause I have shit memory, but I recognized some of the bottles from your bathroom and the lady at the store helped me find your famous Farrah Fawcett spray-”
He trails off when Steve squeezes him tighter. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Eddie hears it anyway.
“I had some shopping to do,” Eddie says casually, but it’s like Steve is squeezing the words out of him with his arms because he keeps talking. “And you’ve been walking around with your head low and those sad puppy eyes all week, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Steve pulls back and Eddie braces himself for Steve calling him out for overstepping or something, but instead he looks shyly at Eddie.
“I know it’s stupid like, it’s just hair and it shouldn’t matter that much, but it’s just- it’s important to me. I might not like “the Hair” thing but I am like, proud of my hair and this week I just haven’t felt like myself and people keep making comments and-” He shakes his head, a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead. “Anyway just, this means a lot, Eds, thank you.”
“Of course, Steve,” Eddie says with a smile. They stare at each other for a little too long, and Eddie starts fidgeting. “Now aren’t you happy that I got here so early? Gives you just enough time to get through your hair routine before everyone else gets here.”
Steve chuckles. “You don’t mind waiting while I fix this?” He gestures at his head, and Eddie shakes his.
“I can entertain myself just fine,” Eddie says, stepping inside when Steve sweeps his arm over the entrance.
“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”
Eddie grins. “Yeah, go doll up for me, sweetheart,” he teases and hears the way Steve’s breath catches, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks tinting pink.
Then Steve moves in and places a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks again, Eds,” he says and then he’s running upstairs.
Eddie stands there for at least ten minutes, red in the face, before he can make himself move.
***
Steve still hasn’t come downstairs by the time the doorbell rings so Eddie answers it.
Dustin is at the head of the arriving party and he raises an eyebrow at him when he sees him. “You’re on time,” he says, perplexed.
“And you’re a butthead,” Eddie replies and the other kids snigger behind Dustin. “Are you gonna come in or what?”
With an eye roll that is pure Steve, Dustin walks in followed by Wheeler, Sinclair and Max, and finally Robin and Nancy, who drove them all there.
Buckley narrows his eyes at him as she walks in. “Why are you on time?” She asks. “Unless you got here early so you and Steve could hang out alooone?” The way she says “alone” makes Eddie flush, which doesn’t help deny what she’s implying, even if it isn’t true.
Luckily, at that moment, Steve comes down the stairs and everyone’s attention turns to him.
“Dude, you got rid of the dead hamster finally!” Mike says and Max flicks him in the ear. Eddie smirks, that’s why she’s his favorite.
“He’s back!” Dustin cheers as soon as Steve’s hair is visible. Eddie smiles at the familiar look, but mostly at the way Steve smiles and holds himself, the slouch and the sad puppy eyes gone.
“There’s my handsome best friend,” Robin hoots and Nancy puts her thumb and index finger in her mouth and lets out an impressive whistle.
“Okay, okay,” Steve says, waving off their compliments and reactions as he reaches the ground floor. “Yes, the hair is back, we can move on now. There are movies to watch.”
He starts to usher them in the direction of the living room to get their movie night started now that they’re all here.
“Dude, I thought it would be two weeks before you could buy your hair things,” Lucas says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.
Steve freezes, his eyes darting to Eddie before he just shrugs at Sinclair, who probably doesn’t care that much about it because he just accepts that as a reasonable answer and follows the others to the couch.
The same can’t be said about Buckley.
“How did you get your hair products, Steve? ‘Cause I know you didn’t have them yesterday and you were working all day today.”
Their eyes meet again and Eddie gives a small shrug. They both know Buckley won’t drop it until she knows the truth.
“Eddie got them for me,” Steve says, mouth curling up in a smile that he directs at Eddie.
Buckley’s head snaps in his direction too, but she’s smirking, her eyes sparkling. “Oh did he?”
“Uh, yeah, I did.”
“You drove to another town, spent time and money on gas, and then spent more money just to get Steve his hair products?”
“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’, trying to be casual, but he can feel the heat on his cheeks.
“How generous of you,” she says but it sounds a lot like, ‘I see you and your big gay crush on my best friend’.
Eddie’s eyes dart to Steve. With their platonic bond it sometimes feels like they can read each other’s minds and Eddie wonders if Steve can see what she sees. He flushes brighter at the thought.
“Come on, Nance, let’s get started with the popcorn,” she says, hooking her arm with Nancy’s and dragging her away, leaving Steve and Eddie alone in the hallway.
“I’m sorry about her,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “And listen I can pay you- for the gas and for the products.”
Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I told you, they’re gifts.”
Steve ducks his head shyly and a strand of hair falls on his forehead with the movement. On impulse, Eddie reaches out to tuck it back into place. There, now Steve’s hair is perfectly styled again. He smiles. “Besides, it was worth it.”
“Oh.” Steve licks his lips a little nervously and Eddie can’t help but track the movement with his eyes. “You- you must really like my hair,” he whispers, eyes wide and expectant.
Eddie considers taking the out, making some joke about having always admired “the Hair” or something like that, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve looking at him like he would like hearing the truth.
So, Eddie takes a deep breath and hopes that he’s reading this right.
“I do, I really like it, but it’s not just that. You could walk around with a hamster on your head or get a buzz cut like El, and I’d still like it. I just. I like you.”
A slow grin appears on Steve’s face. “You really think I would look good with a buzz cut?”
A nervous laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Out of everything I said that’s what you-”
Steve shakes his head, cupping Eddie’s jaw with one hand and effectively shutting him up. “No, I- I like you too, Eddie.”
He sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God.”
And then, he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him towards him, crashing their lips together.
The moment they touch, Eddie lets out a low whine before he remembers that the kiddos are in the next room and Buckley and Wheeler could walk out of the kitchen any minute. So he tries to keep it down as he licks into Steve’s mouth, even if Steve kissing back just as passionately should be enough to drag more noises out of him.
It’s not until Eddie’s hands start moving from his shoulder to his neck on the way to his hair that Steve stops him, his fingers grabbing a hold of Eddie’s wrist and pulling away just enough to speak against Eddie’s lips.
Eddie chases after Steve’s mouth with another whine.
“Jesus,” Steve gasps. “We probably should- If this week proved anything is that out friends are overly invested in my hair so they’ll notice if you mess it up with your hands.” Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. Steve’s fingers catch one of Eddie’s curls, twirling it around it. “But if you want, after everyone leaves you can stay and I can, you know, pay you back for this.” He gestures at his hair.
Eddie’s brain must be melting out of his ears from kissing Steve because he dumbly says, “I told you that you don’t have to-” before he understands the meaning behind the words when he sees Steve’s smirk. “Oh. Yeah. I can think of a few ways you can do that.”
The way he waggles his eyebrows makes Steve giggle adorably, but before Eddie can kiss him about it, Robin pops her head out of the kitchen, making them jump.
“If you two are done giggling like teenagers, come help with the popcorn before the actual teenagers start a riot.”
“Aye, Captain Buckley,” Eddie says with a two-fingered salute. This time Steve muffles his giggle behind his hand.
With the other, he grabs hold of Eddie’s and starts dragging him to the kitchen. The whole time, Eddie feels like he’s floating.
He’s happy he made the trip, he’s happy he got Steve his hair products, he’s happy his hair are back to normal.
And he’s even more happy that he gets to mess it up later when he kisses Steve again after everyone leaves.
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kingtomura · 1 month
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Arcade
Summary: There's nothing worse than getting ditched by your so-called friends on a Friday night. Well, maybe the asshole complaining about your skills at the arcade has that beat. Tomura Shigaraki knows how to make one hell of a first impression. word count: 8.5k Part three to Good Girl and Bloodline Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, fluff, angst, virginity loss, virginity kink, corruption kink, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), praise, strict parents, toxic parents, smut with plot, protected sex, piv, overstim, tomura talks you through it, if you know what i mean, reader is kinda bad at games sry, mdni crossposted to ao3
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You meet him on a Friday.
The mall is crowded and filled to the brim with groups of friends, chattering, laughing – wondering what to get into for the night. You’re just trying to find your group. They said that they would meet you here almost an hour ago, but no one has shown up. 
Bitterly you kick the small rock in front of you, officially accepting the fact that you had been ditched and decide it’s too early to go home. It’s a Friday night for pete’s sake. You walk aimlessly through the mall, only pausing when the noises of video game lasers and hyper dance music flood your ears. 
The arcade. Of course you could kill some time there, people go there alone all the time. No one would think you were out of place and effectively ditched. 
You make your choice, beelining for the upgraded rendition of Pac Man and slipping in a coin to start it. 
The excitement was short lived as you remembered that the game isn’t as easy as you remembered. Whatever, you take your leave and try for a game you hadn’t played before. Something simple with muted colors. It’s fun, but a little difficult. You find yourself getting lost in it, the sounds drowning out the bustling of the arcade.
You huff as you lose another round and reach down, ready to drop a coin and start up again when you hear an annoyed groan coming from behind.
“Can I help you?” You ask, giving the guy a once over. He wore all black with ashen hair and ruby red eyes that shone with annoyance.
“Yeah, you could find another game to suck at.” He scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Irritating. 
You take the challenge. “Oh yeah? Well let's see you try it then, since it’s so easy.”
He shrugs, brushing by you and inserting his own coin into the machine, the beeps of the game starting up and filling tension between you. 
This guy… was good at the game — as much as you hated to admit it. He blew through the enemies with little to no trouble and easily passed your place in the game. Ending it all with one final blow to the boss and snagging the new high score right before your eyes. 
To say you were embarrassed was a little less than an understatement, but you wouldn’t let him know that. So, you double down, brows furrowed and standing proud. 
The mystery man turns back to you, carmine eyes gleaming in triumph over his easy win. “See? You suck.”
You bristle at his blunt insult and bite back. “Yeah, well I only tried this game today! You think you're so good, why don’t you try to beat me at a game I'm good at.”
He looks you over, eyes dragging from your head to the converse on your feet, before turning back around towards the game and dropping another coin into it. 
“No thanks.” 
This asshole… you don’t know why you're fighting this battle, you don't even know this man! But it would be a lie if you didn’t think it was entertaining —- in an annoying way, of course. 
But you take your loss and give up, moving on to the next game. It is something silly and bright, but also difficult. It's easy to get lost in and you find yourself aggressively tapping the buttons, inevitably losing the game and huffing off to find the next one. 
You choose a first person shooter this time. Originally a two player game, but you play on your own — taking down zombie after zombie as you try (and fail) to progress to the next stage. 
You groan as the game over screen mocks you for what feels like the thousandth time that night and fight to keep from banging your head against the screen in frustration. 
“You’re doing it wrong,” a low voice speaks from behind you and you can already feel your anger flaring. “It’s all in the aim.”
“Yeah, well, what do you know?” You ask bitterly, watching as the same asshole from before puts a coin in and starts the game up again. 
He makes it look so easy, getting headshot after headshot as he easily advances to the next rounds. There was a moment you swore he would lose as a mob of zombies crowded him, but he hit a flammable container in the background, causing an explosion and killing all of the zombies. 
The winning screen lit up his pale cheeks in a red hue, giving him a faux flush of color making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. 
You can’t bite back your sigh of defeat this time, the losing streak getting to you. “Did you come over here just to show off? I can do without that, thank you.”
He only shakes his head, putting in another coin and starting the game up again. You stare blankly as he hits the two player button and hands you a gun. 
“No, let me show you why you’re not winning.” It's spoken like you asked him for advice and you know damn well you didn’t, but you take the gun anyway because you had no reason not to.
Muttering a taut fine and gearing yourself up for more humiliation, you stand tall and hold the plastic gun up to the screen, ready to shoot incoming enemies.
You jolt when you feel the guy come up behind you, placing his hands over yours and moving them so that you have a better grip on the weapon. 
It was so quick and so natural your cheeks began heating for a reason completely different from your earlier embarrassment. 
He was so warm, his hands were warm and calloused and you could feel the heat of his body radiating onto your back as he invaded your personal space to show you how to hold the plastic gun. 
Your heart hammered against your chest but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward and face neutral. 
It was much easier said than done, you realize as he leans in, his soft hair tickling your ear as he spoke, guiding you through the mini tutorial of how to shoot the zombies. 
Everything he said went in one ear and out the other as you could only focus on the low vibrato of his voice, explaining as his fingers ghosted over yours, casually helping you shoot. 
The smell of fresh linen and what you could assume was citrus shampoo flooding your nose, making you dizzy as you struggled to listen. You wanted nothing more than to lean back into this stranger, fully feel the warmth of his chest against your back and run your fingers through his soft locks. But you didn’t. 
You will yourself to focus on the sounds of the game and his technique, knowing that you will probably be playing the game soon and didn’t want to look silly if your skill remained the same.
Unfortunately, he pulled away sooner rather than later, taking all of his extra warmth and citrus scent with him. 
“Do you get it now?” He asks, rasp in his voice having genuine curiosity and you nod, ready to try your luck at the game now.
It seems like his tutoring wasn’t in vain and you both pull out a win, scoring high enough to place your names on the screen. 
You can’t hide your excitement from your first win of the night, turning to your new companion as he looked over the other high scores on the board.
“So, what’s your name?” You ask, riding the high of the win and letting the confidence of it guide you. “Because I don't think it would be DustKing like your high score says.”
He gives a small laugh, something tiny and barely there – a mere blow of air through his nose — and looks at you. Those carmine eyes send heat rushing to your cheeks again and spreading to the tips of your ears. 
“Tomura.” Is all he gives and you nod, giving him your name and turning back to the arcade game again. 
“Wanna give it another try?” You offer, and he gives you a small smile back, dropping a coin into the machine and starting up another round. 
“Sure.”
And suddenly, being ditched on a Friday night by your so-called friends isn’t so bad.
—---------------------
The next time you meet Tomura, it is on a saturday afternoon.
The arcade is already bustling with people and the noise almost makes you turn on your heels and walk away. But you don't, instead white hair and dark clothes catch your eye and your feet move before your mind can catch up with the actions. 
“Hey!” You greet, a little too chipper and a little too close. 
Tomura looks down at you, eyes dropping to your shirt and then back up again. You weren't sure if he had been checking you out or trying to size you up. It makes you falter a bit as he goes back to his game, effectively ignoring you.
The behavior is odd, but you try not to let it bother you. The last time you met the both of you played the silly zombie game until the arcade closed — there was no way he didn’t remember who you were.
You feel a little out of place and the tiniest bit hurt as you take a step back, ready to find any other distraction in the arcade to erase this from your brain. 
“Um, okay, bye then—” You start, but you’re cut off by Tomura’s groan. He lost the game and it's difficult to hold back the laughter.
“God, you’re such a distraction. You made me lose!” He barks, riling you up.
Your brows furrow in frustration, you’ve barely said two words to the guy. “How did I make you lose? I just got here!”
“Yeah, and you're being all distracting, with your little shirt and your jeans. What do you want?” 
What the hell was that supposed to mean? The statement is lost on you as your anger takes the forefront. “Don’t blame me because you’re off your game today.”
“I will blame you, because it’s your fault.”
“Whatever, Tomura. Since you’re done losing at this game, why don't you try one you;ll need real skill to play?” you challenge and hope he takes the bait, the irritated narrowing of his eyes shows that he will and you bury your giddiness inside.
“Fine, I'll try it.”
Tomura loses. Bad. And you can't stop the tears from crowding your eyes as you laugh at his misfortune. 
“No, why did you rush out so fast?” You hear Tomura’s low growl of annoyance and continue, “This is not that kind of game! Slow and steady wins the race, you know.” 
Wiping the tear from your eye, you try again, dropping a coin and gearing up for the next round while Tomura sits beside you, seething. The game starts up again and it's bright and inviting. You strategically tap at the buttons, ensuring that your duck character can make it across the street safely. 
It's only when you hear the splash of the fallen duck next to yours that you break out into laughter once more, accidently tapping the button and sending your duck into the open road, ending the game for you both. 
“This game is rigged!” Tomura protests, frustration palpable and scowl deep on his face. 
You only shrug, knowing it's not an easy game, “Well, I'm sure you’d say that about any game you aren't good at.” 
“That's a lie.” He states. Blunt and firm. This guy… He’s so rude, but so cute. You want to bite him.
“It's not,” You keep your voice light as you tease, not wanting to push him too far. “You don’t have patience so of course you would lose.” 
“I could beat you at other games.”
This piques your interest, brows flying up. “Oh, yeah? Like what?” 
He shrugs, irritation all but dissipated. “Mario Kart. 200cc. It takes patience and it’s not rigged.” 
You take the bait, fingers twitching in anticipation, “Sure, but look where we are. There is no Mario Kart here.” 
The look tomura gives you makes you wonder if you’d asked if the sky were blue. “I have Mario Kart at my house. Stop by and I'll kick your ass at it.”
You are stubborn, and decide fine. If he wants to be cocky, then you could bring him down a notch. “Alright, let's go and we'll see.” 
He nods and you both take off, leaving the noise and excitement of the arcade behind.
Tomura was not lying when he said Mario Kart required patience. 
You were currently in his room, on his bed as you try and fail to correct your character's position on the race track. You were stuck against a wall and slowly turning the opposite way, meanwhile, the other karts whip past your character — mocking while you firmly sat in dead last. 
The small laugh Tomura gives is enough to send you into a rage. Standing up, you grip the controller with force, twisting and turning with it as if it would give you more control over your character. It did not. 
“Oh, come on!” You shout.
“You have to use your brakes at this speed.” Tomura supplies, his character crossing the finish line and cheering at its win. 
Your frustration is blinding because once again, those large, warm hands were covering yours, Tomura’s low voice filled with amusement as he guided your character to the finish line. 
Embarrassment wasn’t enough for what you were feeling. Not only did you talk shit and lose, but you needed help from him again. 
He pulls away and you fleetingly think it’s too soon, watching as Tomura grabs his own controller and flips through the options. “We could try a slower cc. 200cc is brutal to newer players.”
“You knew that and you still let me play it?” He clearly set you up, you bitterly realize as you sit next to him on the bed, watching the screen.
“Yeah, for all I know you could have been a prodigy. You weren't though, so it’s nothing I have to worry about.” 
“Hey!” You scold, smacking his arm and grabbing the controller. “Fine. Let's do 50cc and see how good you are.”
Tomura shrugs, plucking the item from your hand and getting more comfortable. “Sure, but don’t think slower races will mean you’re better.” 
The next race goes about the same as the first one, but at least this time your character sticks to the road and you’ve even placed higher this time. Eighth place! Take that. 
“Impressive,” Tomura drags, voice stripped of malice and insults. It was a small feat, but still better than twelfth place. 
It's hard to keep your excitement down, a stark contrast to Tomura’s reserved demeanor. You’ve only met him recently but he's already perfected the way to get your feathers ruffled and rile you up. 
“Yeah, well I'm going to buy the game and practice on my own. Just wait, you’ll be in last place soon.” You had the gaming console, but never this game. It wouldn’t be too steep of an investment. 
Tomura hums, pondering a moment before responding, “You could always just come over and practice. No need to waste the money when I have it.”
His words make you pause, slowly realizing where you are and who you're with. Some guy you met at the arcade — in his home, in his room, playing video games. How did that happen so fast? Your parents would kill you.
“I guess.” You look around, suddenly wanting to find anything else to focus on that isn’t the man beside you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never really been alone with another guy before. Especially not in his room. Sure, you had all kinds of male friends, but never any this close. It made you… nervous. And warm. 
Very warm. Something that spread from the pits of your abdomen and crawled its way back up into your cheeks. 
You hoped Tomura wouldn't notice your blush and searched your brain for any way to get out of this situation. 
But then he was speaking again and god, was his voice always this low?
“Do you want to go another round?”
“Huh?” You stammer, looking over and it was a mistake because you were forced to notice how close you two were sitting, on his bed of all places. You shake the thoughts from your head, “y-yeah, we should play another round.”
You reach for the controller and Tomura stops you, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 
“Hey, what's your problem?” Blunt. Rude. Fucking cute. 
It's settled. You hate this man. 
His brows furrowed as he moved closer, examining your face as if he could peer into your mind with his eyes alone. It made you want to shrink away, but that would only make his observation worse.
“Are you... getting nervous?” Your eyes widen at the words and you pull away completely, shaking your head, 
“No! Of course not.” You cross your arms in a huff and absently wonder if you could take your leave now. 
“You are,” he decides, a slow grin creeping across his face, “Why?” 
You're sure the ground will open up and swallow you whole if you just wish hard enough for it. Maybe then Tomura would back up out of your personal space and shut up.
“I'm not nervous.” You bluff, praying he won’t see through you. 
“I know why.” 
You brace yourself for mortification. 
“It’s because you know you’re going to lose.” 
He has that smug smile on his face and it hits you. 
He has no idea. Tomura doesn’t get it — he thinks you’re upset about the game and not the fact that you can smell the citrus of his shampoo and see the flecks of black in his red eyes. 
God, maybe he’s an idiot. 
You want to kiss him. 
“Don’t be nervous,” he assures, giving you a little smile and grabbing the controller again, “I’ll walk you through it.”
There was something about Tomura’s choice of words that made you think maybe, just maybe, he had a little more of an idea about your mood than he let on. You press your thighs together, praying it was subtle, and mentally push away the arousal you began to feel at his low tone of voice. 
“Sure.”
The next round you both play goes the same as the others. Tomura winning and you barely breaking the top ten. Your frustration was becoming palpable as it no longer was fun to see your character cry at the end of the match. 
“We don't have to play anymore.” You look over at Tomura’s words and he’s stretching, eyes closing at the movement. You can't help but notice the sliver of his exposed abdomen as he reaches up. 
You get a glimpse of his lithe figure and feel your mind begin to wonder what the rest looks like, but cut your thoughts short as he adjusts and meets your eyes again.  
You should get out of here before you embarrass yourself.
“Where are you going?” Tomura questioned, the minute you stood to leave.
“Um, home? It’s getting late.”
“Not that late. C’mon, it’s a Saturday. You have somewhere to be or something?” He’s getting up and you can only assume it's to get another game. You are correct because he turns to show you the case and it’s of a white goose. “This game is more fun.”
You look at the time on your phone and shrug. He's right, it's not that late — there should be no harm in staying a little longer.
So you do.
And it’s worth it as you both watch two geese in the game with excellent teamwork terrorize a farmer.
“Okay, you distract him and I’ll take his hat.” You were on a mission and Tomura indulged you, making his goose honk while yours swooped in, effectively stealing the hat and allowing you both to progress to the next level.
“Hah! I knew that would work.” You feel elated as you watch the geese move on, waddling across the screen and into the next area, “And you’re not so bad yourself, for a goose.” 
Tomura huffs a laugh, shallow and light before turning to you, “I carried you that round, but okay.”
You haven't known each other long, but he already knows his way around getting you riled up. 
The comment makes you turn so that you are better positioned on his bed, one leg still hanging off the end of it while trying not to puff your cheeks. You would be fighting a losing battle if he saw how riled up you were.
“Hey, I’m the one who told you where the picnic blanket was!”
“Okay? And who brought everything to the blanket?” he leaned forward, invading your space and challenging.
You didn’t back down, both of you so close, almost nose to nose. “You. but only after I found everything.”
The distance between the two of you was slim, and the air was heated, his crimson eyes looked down at you with that smug smirk on his lips and you wanted to bite him.
Or kiss him.
Whichever came first. 
Tomura followed your line of sight and it only made his smug expression worse, if that were even possible — yet neither of you backed away. His lips parted like he was on the edge of saying something, but was cut off by the peppy chime of your phone’s ringtone. 
That seemed to dissipate some of the tension between you two as it caused you to back away and scramble to find your phone on his bed. 
Once you’ve gotten it and answered, there’s the familiar voice of your mother on the other end, worrying about where you are and questioning when you would be home, standard practice for her. After many reassuring yeses and “i’ll be there soon”’s you are finally free of the call, now knowing that you have to wrap this up and head out. 
“Who was that?” Tomura questioned and his voice seems loud in the quiet of the room. 
You turn back to him and his eyes are waiting, expecting. He’s not doing anything but looking at you and it still feels like he can see all of you, as if you’re naked and bare, exposed completely. 
“My mom.” You can’t help the small shrug of your shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed at how uncool it could look to have your parents keep tabs on you all the time.
“Aww,” Tomura coos, and it's said more like an afterthought, something to fill the air as he leaned forward — finally, finally closing the distance between you both and kissing your lips. 
It shocks you as you feel the soft cotton his duvet hit your back, Tomura’s lips still pressed to yours as he pushed you down. They were rough but so warm, just like the rest of him, and your hand seeks his hair, finally indulging in the urge you’ve had to touch it since you’ve met him. 
He groans when you give it a tug and you whimper when he bites your lip a little too hard. It drives you crazy and Tomura wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours as his hands slide up your shirt. You let out a gasp  when he cups your breast, taking a sensitive nub between his forefinger and thumb. The feeling has you mewling into his mouth and arousal soaking your panties. 
It doesn’t take much to get you riled up, especially since the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy is a kiss here and there. 
Tomura crowds your senses as he hovers over you, caging you below him as he sits between your spread legs. Your heart races as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, you don’t know how far you’re going to go, but you definitely did not think you would be losing your virginity today. 
He pulls away, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor of the room. You waste no time taking in the new sight of his exposed chest, desperate to reach your hands out to touch. 
But Tomura was back down again before you had a chance to, his mouth making its way down your jaw and neck leaving kisses and licks in its wake. It’s sensitive, especially when Tomura sucks right on a particular spot on your neck, making you cry out. 
“D-don’t leave a mark.” You stutter, words nearly lost to the pleasure. 
“Why not?” The warmth of his tongue licking the area he’d just sucked on was making you shiver. 
Your hands were gripping his shoulder, desperate for any kind of grounding. “Because my parents. They would k-kill me.”
Tomura hums, seeming to take your concern into consideration before pulling away. You’re worried you’ve blown it and ruined the mood, but he just tugs at your shirt. 
“Get this off.” 
You can feel the heat on your face, from the kissing, but now you feel it burn more as you gaze at the man above you. The words make you stall, process what's going on — what you should do. 
No one’s seen you without a shirt, especially not in this situation, but honestly? Who cares. You’re an adult, you can and will make your own choices. 
There’s no one else in this room but you and Tomura, so when you sit up to remove your shirt and bra, catching Tomura’s eyes scan your newly exposed body, you can’t help but smile at the chill of excitement that dances down your spine. 
It makes your heart flutter so you pull him back into a kiss and back down onto the bed, fisting your hands in his ashen locks again and savoring the groans he made. 
Tomura makes his way down again, taking your right breast into his mouth and tweaking the nipple of your other with his free hand. The sensations are overwhelming and you moan, arching your back and trying with all you had to pull Tomura closer. 
He obliged by lowering his hips and grinding down against you, the press of his erection against your clothed cunt drives you wild. Tomura comes back up, claiming your mouth again and he is demanding as he deepens the kiss, giving you everything you wanted and more. 
You wanted to take it further, needed to take it further, but you weren’t sure how to progress from making out. Telling Tomura you were a virgin would probably make things awkward and you were going to lose it if everything ended here.
Tomura pulls away to look at you, flushed and red while you ponder what to do with your hand placement. You decide to wrap them around Tomura’s neck, pulling him close enough that he rests his forehead on yours. 
Your breaths intertwine as you both stare at each other in a daze. 
“What?” He asks first, breathless and curious. 
You cut your eyes to the side, hoping your scoff came off as unconcerned instead of wildly nervous, “Nothing! Nothing..”
Your tone is not lost on Tomura as he narrows his eyes, gears turning in his head and piercing gaze seemingly looking through you and into your deepest thoughts. “Why are you being shy like a virgin?”
The way you purse your lips gives you away and you do everything to avoid his gaze, which is hard when you’re both so close to each other. 
“Oh my god, you are.” There’s a whimsy excitement in his voice and suddenly, embarrassment is creeping its way back into your mind, “why didn’t you say so?” 
You look up as Tomura pulls back, his smile open wide on his face, ill hidden elation buzzing in his words. 
There’s your innate need to defend yourself and your honor rising up again and you can’t stop yourself. So what if you’re a blushing virgin. “Yeah, so? Aren’t you?” 
His shoulders give a small shrug, “Maybe.” 
Then he’s down again, lips next to your ear as his hands trailed down your waist, leaning goosebumps in their wake. 
“Have you ever made yourself cum before?” He asks and you can feel his smile against your ear.
Embarrassment has officially taken the forefront of your mind as you weakly shake your head no, “I’ve tried, but when I get close the feeling goes away.” Might as well be honest since it can’t get more vulnerable than this.
Tomura hums, one hand reaching to take your hand in his, “I could show you how, if you want.”
You feel his hand drag yours lower, down your body and to the hem of your pants and stop, waiting for a response. It feels like your nerves are in overdrive and you writhe below him in anticipation, nodding your head, “P-please.”
Tomura pulls away, taking his warmth with him as he reaches down to unbutton your pants, removing them and leaving your panties. 
“You’re soaked.” He muses, causing you to whine in anticipation. “Show me how you do it.”
And you do, slipping your hand under your panties and biting back a moan as your middle finger rubbed circles on your clit. You were dripping wet so your fingers glide easily and the feeling makes your eyes close. 
It's a song and dance you are familiar with in the heated nights of your bedroom. Trying and failing to make yourself cum because you’ve read about it, it’s supposed to feel good, but you just can't get there. 
Tomura watches on, absently palming his erection and watching you touch yourself. As much as he wanted to reach down and help you out, there was something about seeing you whine and writhe in his bed that made his brain wild. 
You were getting close and you knew because there was that familiar sensation of heat pooling in your lower belly, it was a pressure that got more and more intense as you chased after it, but every time, your hands would get tired and you would lose it. And with the momentum gone, you lose the orgasm. 
Your furrowed brows went from aroused to frustrated within the span of a second as, once again you’ve unintentionally denied yourself release. 
“Fuck,” Tomura breaths, hand now fully in his sweat pants as his breathing picks up, “you were close.”
“I know!” You whine, unsure what to do now, but Tomura has a few things in mind. He pulls his hand from his pants, not wanting to ruin his own orgasm and hooks his fingers on both sides of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side. 
You were fully exposed and the only thing keeping you from pressing your thighs together and holding your dignity close was Tomura between them. 
You wish he wouldn’t look so much, but he does, drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt and licking his lips. You’re about to call him out of it before he dips back down, capturing your lips in his and it distracts you. 
It distracts you so well that the press of his thumb over your slick nub makes you cry out, the pleasure sudden and better than you imagined. Tomura devours your moans, rubbing slow circles onto your clit and easily picking up where you left off. Your hands find purchase on his back and your toes curl at the sensation. 
He had just started, but it was just right and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, desperate for more and overwhelmed by the stimulation. 
“T-tomu..” You moan as you feel the horizon of warmth again and bury your face into his neck.
“Yeah,” his lips are by your ear again and you close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his thumb working your clit and his low voice in your ear, “Just let go for me.”
And it all hits you, pussy pulsing in pleasure as you come undone, your cries muffled by your face in his shoulder. It feels like the end of a long marathon as the bliss spreads through your body like a warm blanket. 
You could only lie there as Tomura pulled away, kissing your sternum and all the way down until he was at eye level with your cunt. The action confuses you because he had just made you cum so why was he..? 
“What are you doing?” You ask, confusion muting the buzz in your head. 
His eyes meet yours, mischievous glint in them sending the butterflies in your stomach wild. “We’re not done yet.” 
And before you could question the man further he dips down, warm and wet tongue meeting your slit and diving into your slick entrance. The action makes you jolt, keening at the sensation and thighs reflexively closing against Tomura’s head. This action only spurred him on further as he lapped and dipped his deceptively long tongue in and out of your wet entrance, sticky slick walls clamping down on him as he sloppily ate you out. 
He was relentless as he drove your pleasure up the wall — blowing your previous orgasm out of the water with this new sensation. 
“Fuck, tomu — fuck its..!” You can’t form a coherent sentence because the pleasure was only building and building, giving your brain no time to catch up with your words. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair, the soft ashen locks grounding you as he continued his actions, unbothered by your tight grip. 
Tomura decided to move up, licking his way from your hole to your clit, the overstimulated bud was next on tomura’s list as he lapped and kissed your bundle of nerves. 
The actions make you cry out, mind muddled as your body tries to figure out if you want to be closer or further away from the sensations. You don't have much time to reach a conclusion either as Tomura sucks your clit and your second orgasm of the night quickly builds up and spills over, making your back arch from the bed and your legs shake in pleasure. 
It feels like your mind is completely blank as tomura gives your cunt a final lap and your clit one last kiss before returning to meet your eyes again. 
You were face to face now and watching him grin down at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had made a deal with the devil himself as your mind swam in the pleasure radiating throughout your body. It all felt surreal, and your eyes naturally closed, enjoying the feeling of your second climax. 
“Aw, don’t tap out on me now, I haven’t even given you the final boss yet,” you hear Tomura coo, finally moving to remove his sweatpants and boxers and oh— 
You watch his cock bob between his legs and panic internally as you wonder how the hell that would fit inside of you. 
It’s like Tomura could read your mind, because his laugh brings you back to the present, “don't worry about it, promise it’ll fit.” 
You don't know if you should trust him on that, but you do — mentally preparing yourself as Tomura leans over you and into the drawer of his bedside nightstand. He pulls out a square foiled packet and it’s in that moment you realize – no, he was not a virgin and only humoring you. 
You don't have much time to dwell on it though because in no time he has the condom on and is lining himself up with your entrance. 
The nerves are making themselves known as the reality of your situation starts to set in. The thoughts don’t flood your mind for long because Tomura takes your chin in his hand, demanding your undivided attention as he slowly pressed into your cunt. 
The pressure of the stretch makes you whimper and your eyes reflexively close, but he was only getting started. It was the somewhat soothing feeling of Tomura’s thumb stroking your cheek that kept you grounded and able to withstand more of the stretch. 
Little by little, Tomura pushed on, guiding you with his words and reassuring you that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He was right up against your ear, the familiar smell of his shampoo bringing you comfort as your bodies intertwined. 
“That it,” he guided, voice low and hips still as he bottomed out. You felt so full. It was a sensation you’ve never imagined and could only whine as tomura started to pull back. “I’m gonna move now.” 
Even though the pain was there in the initial thrusts, there was also the feeling of dull pleasure, slowly growing and growing until the previous pain had all but gone away and now you were floating in ecstasy as Tomura’s thrusts began to speed up.
You gripped at his forearms as he gained momentum, hips rocking into yours and making you moan.
“You like that?” he husked, lips brushing your throat as his hips snapped forward and hit a particularly sensitive spot inside. 
“F-fuck, again, do that again,” you cry and Tomura focuses his attention right where you want him to. The feeling is euphoric as you feel a different kind of coil tightening in your lower abdomen. A feeling that makes your toes curl and your thighs tense and it's hit again and again. 
Tomura lets out a low groan, his own pace becoming unsteady as time went on. “You’re so tight..” he murmured, reveling in the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on him, “‘s like you’re sucking me in.” 
You’re nearing the end again, you can feel it, but you don't want to be. This all felt so good. “Tomu, I-I’m—”
Tomura cuts you off, pulling away to look you in the eyes, his ruby red gaze was hypnotizing. “Just let go, I’ve got you.” 
And you do, that’s all it takes for you to tip over — mind rushing in bliss as your heart fluttered at his words. 
You felt this orgasm deep in your bones, the overwhelming feeling of clarity and contentment settling within you as you were now along for the ride, enjoying Tomura’s increasing erratic pace while he chased his own orgasm. 
“Oh, fuck—” he pants, following behind you with his own climax. His eyes were squeezed shut as he rode it out, slowing to a stop and dropping his head onto your shoulder. 
The heavy breaths between you were the only sounds in the room as you stare at his ceiling — noticing the faded out green stars above. So faint you were sure they had been placed there years and years ago. It brings a warmth to your chest, something new among your many new feelings you’ve felt today. 
“Next weekend,” Tomura starts, still sounding a bit winded as he pulls out — and you wince at the soreness, the pain not really something you were prepared for — and lays next to you, “Next weekend we’ll rematch in Mario kart. I’ll help you get better.”
You smile, the buzzing excitement making you flush, “Okay, let’s do it.”
The next morning is one that leaves you with a forming pit in your belly. It is a Sunday morning, and Sundays are the day’s your family loves to enjoy a homemade breakfast and sit together at the table like a loving family. 
And they were loving! Loving and observant.
You felt as if your parents knew. Like they knew where you had been yesterday — somehow seeing through your foolproof lie of hanging out with an old school friend, but things were quiet. 
Everything on this Sunday morning had been proceeding as normal. Your parents were sitting across from you, none the wiser and laughing about a show they watched last night while you were out. 
It did not feel real. It felt like there was something you were missing, as if they were omnipotent and knew your every move. Knew that you were no longer their shining star child, that you had been up to things that were everything but innocent. 
You feel the same, physically. Maybe a little sore from how rough Tomura had gotten, but other than that, normal.
“Sweetheart,” your father’s voice calls you, cutting through your paranoia, “could you pass me the syrup, please.”
And you do, maybe with too much haste, but he does not comment on it. Instead he just pours the sugary liquid onto his pancakes and continues. “So your mother and I were thinking,”
Oh, god. They knew.
“We know you’re taking a semester off, but if you aren't happy with that college, we could look into other’s for you.”
Your shoulders relax. It’s just college talk, again. That was talk you could handle. 
“Um, yeah. That’s okay with me. I could always use more options.”
Your father smiles, “That’s our girl. Always so flexible with her options. We know it takes a lot of strength to take a break, but you did. We’re so proud of you.” 
The smile that graces your face is pitiful and filled with guilt that you prayed was not obvious. They really saw the best in you, no matter how suffocating they were. so it’s only right you follow the path that they lay out for you. 
“Our girl could never do any wrong,” your mother chimes in, chipper and full of admiration, “you’re just so smart.”
You only nod, now trying to tune them out as they go back and forth, discussing possible college they believed would be best for you. 
It really makes you wonder just how far that love and pride stretched when their angel of a daughter strays against what they expect of you.
—-------------------------
And not even six months later that same love and adoration is tested, put on the line and shown bare as your enraged parents look down at you. 
The same parents who doted on you about how much you made them smile. You who had made them so proud and apparently brought them so much joy. 
It’s suffocating as you sit right back on the very same couch where it all started, listening to a lecture from your mother about the woes and pains of having such a disobedient unruly child. 
Even though you’re an adult. 
Even though you can make your own decisions about your life. 
It’s maddening having to listen to your once so meek and complacent mother go on and on about how she would have never snuck around with some boy she’s only known for a few months. How she would never lie to her parents about her whereabouts and how it’s just unheard of that you would turn your location off. 
You shake your head, they wouldn’t understand. Your father wouldn’t even look at you. “Mom, please..” you start, wanting to offer anything to break up the nonstop lecture. 
“I just don’t understand!” Her voice is so high it’s nearly a yell, and your mother makes it a point to never yell. “He’s just a man! Why would you put yourself and your future at risk for some guy?”
“He’s not just some guy.” You mumble and curse yourself for trying, they would never see it your way. 
There is a buzz from the phone in your pocket and you habitually grab for it, pulling it from its place and you are not given a chance to check the notification before your mother snatches the device from your hand. 
“And no phone! This damn phone is the root of all your problems in the first place.”
Disbelief mars your features as the constant drilling catches up with you. “You can’t do that!”
She only folds her arms across her chest, head tilted in challenge, “I can’t? Watch me. You’re lucky we haven’t put you on the street yet with how irresponsible you’ve been.” 
It’s hard to understand what’s so irresponsible about taking birth control and practicing being safe. But you knew it was deeper than that. It was deeper than the boy and it was more than sex. 
They hated the lack of control they had over you and how it waned with every passing day.
“So, what, was this guy supposed to be the love of your life? Someone you would just run away with and expect to support you?”
Your mother’s voice grates on your ears and you just wish for this conversation to be over, you want this entire thing to be over and done with. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The defeat is evident in your voice and you shrug. “Can I go now?” 
They are beating a dead horse at this point and you’re over it. 
To your surprise, no one stops you as you rise, allowing you to take your leave before the tears clouding your vision could fall. 
The defeat you feel is deep and you can’t even muster the energy to slam your door shut, opting for a quieter close. The fragile click of your door was so soft and it felt as if you were made of glass. To slam the door would only make you shatter into a million pieces onto your bedroom floor. 
How foolish of you to think there could ever be a world where you had autonomy in a house filled with hawks. 
Your bed greets you with its cozy warmth and you allow yourself to fall apart there, letting out all of your despair and frustration into your pillow and leaving the pieces of your soul to be picked up in the morning. 
It’s been a week. 
A long, boring, drawn-out week. 
You are without your phone, without wifi and without your parents car — so you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. 
It’s been a long week of nothing, not even from Tomura. You assume he can put two and two together and figure out something has gone wrong. The thought brings you a little peace, but not for long. 
You barely leave your room and barely say two words to your parents. The isolation is… lonely. 
Even if you went out to the living room to watch television, you run the risk of running into one of your parents — and you can really do without another lecture. The only thing on your mind this past week has been Tomura. What was he doing? Did he pick up on your silence? Last time he showed up at your house, but that’s not happening this time around. 
You sit up from your bed, realizing that sitting around rotting away would drive you mad, and look to your window. The sun was setting and dusting the rest of the world in pretty orange and pink hues. It would be nightfall soon, and you don't think you could spend another night in this room, alone. 
So, against all better judgment, you open your window, look back to listen for any suspicious footsteps — the lack thereof giving you the greenlight — and climb out of your window, stumbling on to the ground as you try to regain your footing from the drop.
You weren't sure where your feet were taking you, but you didn't care, the feeling of fresh air against your cheeks was all you really needed for a clear head.
Your feet lead you to the mall, the start of all your problems and the beginning of your independence. 
It felt strange, seeing all kinds of happy faces throughout the mall. Blissfully unaware of their freedoms and enjoying their night. The jarring feeling pushes your feet to the familiar route, flashing colors and blaring music of the arcade greeting you. 
It’s comforting, in a way. But you didn’t bring any money. You didn't bring anything but what you were wearing so you could only look around, watching friends and couples alike laugh together. 
There's an area near the back of the arcade with tall barstools and empty tables. You decide to take a seat there and sulk on your own. At least you were no longer trapped in your room, forced to watch your four walls while the days passed you by.
You were in a daze, tracing the brown lines on the wooden table with your eyes, until someone interrupted you by sitting right next to you. You turn to face the culprit, less than friendly words on your tongue and ready to let whoever have a piece of your mind. 
But you stop in your tracks as ruby red eyes look down at you. 
Tomura. 
He was here, next to you and your heart fluttered at the realization. 
“What’s your problem?” He joked, rasp in his voice comforting to your ears. 
You don’t stop yourself from pulling him into a hug, his black hoodie soft and familiar. “How did you know I was here?” You mumble into the fabric and miraculously Tomura understands you.
“I didn’t.” The admission causes you to pull back, looking up at him through your long lashes. “None of my calls or texts went through, and I tried to stop by but your dad was suspiciously outside.” He brings a hand to your head, brushing your hair back and giving you a small smile. “I still like coming here, so I did. Something to pass the time. Ironically, I saw you walk by. 
You hum, fighting the pout that wanted to make its way onto your face. “They took my phone. They took everything, even the birth control pills. I can’t keep living like this, Tomura.”
“I know.” He responds, soothing your nerves even with his presence. “I can get you another phone.”
The suggestion only makes you shake your head, it doesn’t tackle the real underlying issue. 
“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before they find that too. We’ve seen that they aren’t above going through my things. It’s hell. I can’t do it anymore.”
This seems to make Tomura ponder, taking your words in and running them through his mind for a solution. His expression is fixed when he looks back at you. 
“Then don’t.”
“What?” 
“Don’t go back home.” He elaborates, “Come stay with me. My place is big enough, it shouldn’t matter.”
You are shaking your head before you realize, pulling away from him with a stern look. “No, no I can't do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”
Tomura gives you a halfhearted glare. “It’s not imposing if I'm offering. They’re assholes, and I'm usually home alone anyway. Well, besides Kurogiri.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, “C’mon, just go home tonight, pack a bag and then meet me here tomorrow. Can you do that?” 
There was no other option you would want more so you nod, giving a short okay as Tomura presses his lips to yours. 
It's set — by this time tomorrow you will be free.
490 notes · View notes
wonysugar · 3 months
Text
doing what’s right | huh yunjin
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synopsis : you were always on top of your shit, and yunjin hated your fucking guts for it.
pairing : yunjin x fem!reader
genre : bully trope?? smut
tags : major hate sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism. yunjin’s a bitch, reader’s a goody two shoes and a virgin, jealousy, classroom, public sex kinda? teacherxstudent roleplay, is this considered tag teaming?? degrading names, stripping, slapping (like once but still), fingering, slight boob play, chaewon mention kinda? it’s hinted, dumbification lowkey? that funky stuff~~
!! warnings : dubcon turned consensual, threats of blackmail, degradation, humiliation, bullying, harassment, yknow… that stuff so don’t read if any of this makes you uncomfy please !!
word count : 3.2k
a/n : angsty yunjin coming out soon dw.. i just loved y’all too much to release unwarranted ass angst without some sort of apology beforehand😭enjoy! been wanting to write more dark stuff since you guys really liked minjeong? so YAYY!! also this is like so not proofread if you see any mistakes please ignore as i am so tiredgkefmm
also also obviously NEVER DO THIS TO ANYONE EVER THIS IS TRULY HORRENDOUS :(( and ofc if it’s being done to you CALL THE POLICE DO SMTHH THIS IS ACTUALLY HORRIBLEE?? this is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes and does not reflect my thoughts!!
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“hey y/n, since you like studying so damn much, how about you do my assignments for me?” her friends giggled, enjoying the show, “how’s that sound, hm? i’m sure you’d enjoy it.”
you continued to write into your notebook, tending to your work as you ignored the unfunny comments that the group of annoying girls sent towards you, the most distracting one of them all being thrown was huh yunjin’s. you just kept trying to focus on the math equation in front of you as you heard their loud giggles and mumbles behind you.
it was confusing. she’d seem really nice if you didn’t know her, since she rarely was ever mean to other students. plus, she looked really friendly and put together, it was almost welcoming; her ginger hair always styled perfectly, her full face of gorgeous makeup that she somehow managed to put on everyday, the nice outfits she’d pull with such a basic uniform. no really, who knew you could do so much with just a blazer and a skirt? she looked and acted so kind towards everyone.
except you.
as it turns out, she just had a thing against you, apparently. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it wasn’t difficult to guess that she fucking hated your guts, it was apparent with how she’d glare at you whenever you walked past her, books in hand, or how she’d look at her friends whenever you rose your hand, putting on a mocking smile as she nodded along to you. i mean, it’s not like she pretended to like you, you were very aware of her feelings towards you.
you didn’t really care, though.
sure, you were kind of bummed out that somebody as kind-looking as yunjin disliked you at first, but what could you do, in the end? not everybody was gonna end up liking you, and that was okay. that’s what society is, after all. some people will like you, some people simply will not, and that’s just life. still, though, it’s not like you did anything to cause her to hate you.. did you?
nonetheless, slowly but surely, you started getting invested in your task again, the remarks of the girls eventually being tuned out of your brain as you grabbed your calculator. 
that is, until you felt her more than overwhelming presence behind your shoulder. you could only sigh, 
god damn it.
she pulled on a strand of your hair as she threw her history book on the desk, startling you, “d’you hear me, bitch? the bell rang ages ago, either you go home and leave, or you stay here, be a useful little student and do my work. your choice.” 
you heard her friends cackle on the other side of the classroom as she pestered you.
god, and you were actually getting something done, for once.
standing up in a swift motion, you groaned and quickly picked up all of your things before shoving them inside your bag, getting ready to leave.
“since you asked so nicely.” was all you said, annoyed and heading straight for the door, your hand almost coming in contact with the doorknob. you were about to leave.
until she grabbed your hair and pulled you back, making you land butt-first on the ground, earning a collective laugh from the others.
“ow— w-what the fuck is wrong with you???” you yelled, grabbing the back of your hair, where she pulled on, caressing said spot in hopes of soothing it. 
“what’s wrong with you? i ask you a question, and you don’t answer?? not what i expected from miss goody-two-shoes..” she mocked, wearing a fake pout as she slightly tilted her head, “i’m incredibly disappointed, y/n..” 
you could only furrow your eyebrows and narrow your eyes at her, because what the fuck was actually wrong with her?? yeah, she was always annoying, but she never got violent with you, what changed today?
“no seriously, yunjin, what did i ever do to you?” you stood back up, unconsciously leaving your bag on the floor, “ever since i’ve met you, you’ve just been nothing but a bitch to me, and only me. seriously, tell me, what did i do to you?”
she, in response, only looked back at her friends who were sitting back and watching you two go at it, no really, they even grabbed chairs.
“what didn’t you do?” when she looked back at you, something in her eyes shifted, her gaze was no longer playful, it seemed evil, “everytime i look at you, you’re always on top of your shit,  always doing what’s right. i mean— for fuck’s sake, your posture’s always straight, your assignments are always done, your grades are fucking perfect, your goddamn locker’s organized…  and at lunch? you’re doing homework. you’re so— you’re just so fucking annoying. you realize that, right?” 
…was this seriously what this was all about? you took school seriously, and she didn’t, so she was.. mad about it?? i mean— you’re literal seniors, of course you were gonna take school seriously? you looked back at her, still processing everything. you were perplexed, and she was stepping closer to you as you backed away, unconsciously pinning yourself against the wall.
“i-im sorry..? i really didn’t mean to make it seem like i was rubbing it in your face—”
“see? there you go again, doing what’s right, as per usual. apologizing, being the bigger person, making me seem like the bitch here, right? i see right through your facade, y/n, you think you’re better than everyone, when really, you’re the worst kind of person out there.” 
at this point, she was inches away from your face, her gaze piercing through your soul like she was looking into the deep depths of your personality, searching for any sort of crack in your cool and composed demeanor. you always seemed so sure of yourself, she wanted to see you lose it, she wanted to see you lose control over everything around you, she was dying to see it.. 
but, much to her dismay, she found nothing.
“you’re fucking insane.” was what you whispered, looking at her with nothing but arrogance and worry in your expression. she stared back at you some more, before allowing herself to crack a distorted smile. what was she—
before you knew it, her lips roughly came into contact with yours as she grabbed your face, kissing you like she’d die if she didn’t. you were thrown off-guard, way off guard, especially because of how sudden this was from her, because of how sudden this was altogether. plus, the fact that you didn’t push her away just made it all so much more puzzling, why didn’t you? you were baffled, so baffled that you didn’t even realize her free hand roaming your body. she caressed all over your lower stomach, fingers tracing your thighs before reaching for your lower back, reaching under your skirt and cupping your ass almost immediately after her hand landed on it.
still hungrily making out with you, her hand ended up on one of your pockets, the one containing the classroom keys. of course, the teacher always trusted that you’d lock the classroom once you were done with your work, so he didn’t mind giving you the responsibility.
you didn’t even realize that she reached into the pocket and grabbed the keys, that is, until she quickly pulled away afterwards, leaving you breathless. as you opened your eyes again and caught your breath, you saw yunjin throw the keys behind her shoulder, “here,” the obnoxious sound of them being tossed around occupying your thoughts, “lock the door.”
watching as one of the other girls scrambled to catch them, you spoke up, “w-what are you—“
a loud slap resonated through the classroom before leaving space for silence to settle in, your face was stinging. then, when you raised your hand to put it on your cheek, trying to understand what on earth was actually going on, you heard the click of the lock.
“shut the fuck up.” she said, quickly grabbing you and your attention by the jaw and forcefully making you face her before putting on the fake cutesy face you know so well, talking to you as she would a stupid puppy,
“let’s play a little game, hm?” she slightly leaned in, in order to face you directly, “it’s gonna be called ‘how to be a good student’, the rules are simple; you’re gonna pretend that i’m your teacher and i’ll tell you to do certain things, you just have to obey. you can do that for me, right?” 
you gulped, fear plastered all over your expression as you looked back at her.. but also, there was a hint of anticipation? what was she gonna force you to do?? the sane part of yourself tried shaking it off, but to no avail. it was probably way wrong to admit, fucked, even.. but you wanted to see how far she would go. you wanted to see what she wanted to do to you.
you were scared, sure, but also somewhat excited.
she patted your cheek, bringing you back to the reality before you, her friends still behind her, sick smiles as they watched,  “understood?” she asked.
you could only reluctantly nod in response.
“words, dumb bitch. you’re usually really good at using those, aren’t you?” she tilted her head, eyeing your legs as her hand slightly fiddled with your skirt before her cold gaze went back on yours, “so, use them.” 
your breathing getting heavier, you tried to push away all of the ridiculous thoughts you had, why the fuck were you yearning whatever she was planning? you quietly and unintentionally whined, hoping that she didn’t hear, then you eventually managed to choke up a reply, “y-yes.”
she scoffed, “yes what? i’m sure you don’t talk to teachers like that, do you?” 
you closed your eyes momentarily, “yes.. m-miss.”
she snickered, letting out a mocking laugh shortly after as she mumbled something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you would actually do it.’, raising her eyebrows in the process. her friends seemed rather amused, too, since they were all cracking up behind yunjin, one of them even grabbed her phone and started recording. 
wait.
recording??
“t-the phone— what are you doing w-why are you recording—“
the girl in front of you rolled her eyes while backing away from you, sighing exasperatedly, “relax, if you just do as i say and listen to me, i promise you that we’re not posting it anywhere. okay?”
your reputation, your scholarship, she was risking all of it. what if your parents— you couldn’t even finish that thought without feeling chills down your spine
at this point, you had no choice but to trust her words.
“now, strip.” she added.
you hesitated, looking at every corner of the room, your brain desperately trying to forget that there were people watching you attentively. 
after a few seconds, your eyes eventually landed on the ginger standing in front of you, arms crossed. her gaze stern as she looked at you; you particularly noticed how she seemed to be devouring your entire body only using her hooded eyes.
that, for some reason, gave you the willpower to do as she told you to. 
you slowly and nervously unbuttoned your blazer and looked straight at her, your eyebrows slightly upturned, which earned a smirk from yunjin.
you looked like a prey being cornered by its predator, it drove her insane. 
you paid no particular attention to the friends that were screaming, cheering you on and insisting that you take it off faster, treating this whole situation like it was a striptease. once you were only in your bra, you moved on over to your skirt, unzipping the side and slowly sliding it down, still unsure of whatever the fuck you were doing at that moment.
yunjin seemed pleased, very pleased.
“good girl.” the way her tongue rolled off the top of her mouth saying that gave you goosebumps, “now, go bend over that desk and wait.” she added, pointing to… the teacher’s desk.
a surge of shame suddenly washed over you when you remembered the amount of trust that said-teacher had in you. what would he think of you if he knew you were being so inappropriate in his workspace? as if the wall you were standing against gave you some sort of comfort, you didn’t want to move. 
at all.
yunjin’s eyebrows furrowed, “come on, y/n.” she said, with a familiar, fear-inducing playful tone, “bend over that fucking desk or i swear i’m gonna make you regret ever attending your stupid classes.”
you were terrified, you knew she was fully capable of physically hurting you, she’s already done it up until now. 
so you did what she ordered. 
you obeyed.
you sucked up your embarrassment you felt in the process of walking past her friends, half naked and leaning against the desk. you kept your head down; feeling their phone cameras on you, you wanted to hope that hiding your face would make you feel better, so you just kept looking down. until,
a few seconds after, you heard noise behind you, noise that sounded like… bag scrambling? like someone was actively looking for something specific, which undeniably got you very worried. 
you remembered your bag, the vision of you leaving it on the floor kept replaying in your mind.
fuck?
nonetheless, said sound only lasted for a few more seconds before stopping abruptly. then, you heard footsteps, who you could only assume were yunjin’s, get closer to you—
you saw a manicured hand slide a sheet of paper, a pencil and a calculator across the table… 
the sheet.. was your math homework. the one you were working on not too long ago, it was in front of you.
then, feeling a hand gently rub on your lower back as the girls in the room giggled, you flinched slightly. “finish this assignment.” she ordered, cold, before adding onto it, “and under no circumstances do you move, okay?”
you breathed heavily, nodding. “y-yes miss..” was what you said, feeling a piece of your dignity leave your body with each second that passed by. what the fuck was she planning on doing to you?
without asking further questions, you grabbed the pencil sitting in front of you and went to work, trying to do what you do best; school work. for a few minutes, it went smoothly, you felt yourself getting calmer as you filled out the answers of the questions before you.
until you felt her fingers slowly slip your underwear down, her hot breath against your ear whilst she watched you work from behind, her friend group letting out ironic cheers. you heard her scoff as her middle finger came into contact with your.. embarrassingly wet cunt, rubbing it carefully.
“you’ve been wet this entire time, huh? didn’t know miss goody-two-shoes was so naughty.” you quietly whimpered at the touch, you were aching and you didn’t even want to fully acknowledge it. then, you heard some of her friends get up, getting closer to the both of you.
it was almost dehumanizing to admit that being treated this way turned you on this much, and the last thing you wanted at that moment was for her to know it.
she wasn’t as stupid as you thought she was, she figured it out fast.
she quickly stuck two of her fingers inside of you, watching you struggle as you tried to take her. “oh my god— don’t tell me that you’re a virgin?” she giggled, curling them and hitting your gspot as you bit your lip trying to suppress the lewd sounds that wanted to escape your mouth, “how does it feel to know that i’m the one taking your disgusting virginity, hm? shit, you’re fucking dripping for this, aren’t you?” was what she whispered in your ear, making sure no one heard it but you.
how considerate.
“mmh— y-yunjin—“ you attempted to turn your head over to look at her, but she quickly grabbed your jaw with her other hand and set it back to its original position. 
“i told you not to move, didn’t i? focus on the fucking paper, whore. don’t make me hit you again, okay baby?” she snapped, being rougher with her fingers in the process. you let out a moan in response, because as much as you tried to deny it, everytime she spoke just made you clench even more around her.
so she sped up the pace with each sound that you let out, it didn’t take long for her to start properly fingering you and allowing her other hand to grope your clothed tits, watching you lose yourself under her inappropriate touch. you wanted more, you weren’t even writing on the damn paper anymore, you needed more of her. you needed to hear her friends call you a brainless whore more often.
you needed it.
your brain was so foggy and blurry that you didn’t even notice one of her friends end up in front of you, shamelessly shoving the camera on you, “come on y/n, look here.” she whined playfully, her turn to take ahold of your face and move it however she pleases, the girl made you look up at her and stuck her thumb into your mouth.
what was her name? chaeyoung? chaeryeong?? chaewon??? you couldn’t quite remember.
god, you didn’t even fucking know her name and you just let her slur you out like this?
“tell me y/n, is miss yunjin making you feel good?”
more, you wanted more. whatever the hell this was, you wanted more, you craved more.
you nodded, eyes hooded and rolled back as you felt the ginger’s long fingers reach deep inside of you, curling at the perfect places, at the perfect time. it felt so good, too good. you slightly drooled on the bob-haired girl’s thumb as your body shook under the both of them. 
feeling yunjin’s mouth against your neck while she kept fingerfucking you, you blabbered, indecent things sounding like “k-keep going— i’ll never be an annoying bitch again i promise i— pleaseplease m-more—“ escaping your mouth.
everyone in the classroom was amused by this, you could tell by the things they said and the laughs they let out occasionally.
yunjin was especially enjoying it, because who would’ve thought l/n y/n would whore herself out for a group of girls she didn’t even know? not her, that’s for sure, but she lived for it, she waited so long for something like this to happen, and it finally did.
for you to be put back in your place, for you to be humbled, for you to be a begging and crying mess all over her. that’s what she hoped for whenever you opened your mouth in class. 
“c-cumming— i’m— c-cumming i—“ you moaned against the sloppy kiss you were having with the other girl.
suddenly, a huge wave of euphoria washed over your entire body, causing your legs and arms to shake, giving out. you weren’t paying any attention to the volume of your voice, but when you felt lips come into contact with yours, you figured that you were being a little too loud.
you wanted more, you needed more.
too bad they simply all left you there, alone, only words spoken by yunjin beforehand being “don’t forget to lock the door afterwards.” after being thrown the keys to the classroom.
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: frienemies-to-lovers, kinda mean!Eddie? shy!reader, swearing, a lil smoochin', mentions of lack of confidence and poor self image, cute nicknames
a/n: hi bb, will you be my valentine? I don't love writing mean!eddie but its okay because we can always fix him :)
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Valentine’s Day.
A day which the Hawkins High elite are positively buzzing over the plethora of cheap red and pink decorations.
Cheerleaders swoon over poorly constructed cards from their popular boyfriends, while dozens of obnoxious mylar balloons take up way too much space in the already crowded hallways.
Beyond the 14th of February, the reason for all the excitement was the annual Hawkins High Valentine’s Day dance—of which you were head of the committee.
Was it because you were the only Senior to volunteer their time to coordinating it instead of attending it? Maybe, but at least it gave you a reason to show up to the dance without a date.
...and avoid looking like the pitiful wallflower you are.
You also knew you’d have no time to rush home and get ready after your last class, so here you are. Standing outside of the AV Club door, decked out in your new crushed-velvet dress. It's ruby red and dangerously short.
This was definitely out of your comfort zone. You typically preferred to be invisible. It’s easier that way; no one can hurt what they can’t see. Right?
But when this dress caught your eye in the mall shop window, it was the first time you could ever remember wanting to be seen. Wanting to try to look like the pretty girls who walk the halls everyday vying for the attention of others.
The dance gave you the perfect excuse. Sure, it’s not like you had a date or anyone asking you to go, but you felt so beautiful. The way the dress hugged your body made all the staring and whispering as you walked down the hallway so, so worth it.
“Hey—whoa…” Dustin’s voice dropped when he walked around the corner, arms full of equipment. “Y-you look fantastic!” He said proudly.
Dustin was your favorite Freshmen, always kind and happy to see you.
“Aw, thanks Dusty! You don’t think it’s too much?” You lifted your boot, inspecting it falsely.
Dustin smiled, “It’s too much for 6th period Spanish, but not for Valentine’s Day that’s for sure.”
He unlocked the door, and held it for you.
Dusting grabbed a pen and paper to write down what you’d need the AV Club’s help with after school.
With hands on your hips, you looked around the room. “Okay, so I definitely need the projector, and if you could set it up before—“
An annoying, loud, cocky voice cut you off. “Henderson! What the hell is takin’ you so long?”
Eddie fucking Munson.
You watched as he sauntered into the room, DIO jacket and all. He clapped Dustin on the shoulders before turning his gaze to you.
“Holy shit. That you, Mouse?”
Mouse. A nickname you loathed.
You’d made the mistake of sitting at the Hellfire table your Freshman year, and he’s never let let you live it down. Once Eddie saw just how shy you were, he made it his mission to get under your skin.
He'd plopped down into the seat next to you, assuming you were there to cause him and the guys trouble. “New girl’s trying to get in good with the freaks, hm?”
You jumped and began to frantically pack your belongings, “I-I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I’ll just go—"
When he realized you were nervous, he changed his tone. No longer was he on edge, but rather trying to make you laugh. Show you it's okay to give him a taste of his own medicine. “No no, little mouse. You’re not scurrying away that easily.”
Four years later, you’re both still here and Eddie’s been a thorn in your side ever since. You thought you'd be rid of him once he graduated, but he flunked--twice. Condemning you to another year full of his nonsense.
His obnoxious, overly-confident, doe-eyed nonsense.
“Munson.” You couldn’t help the eye roll. “Dustin and I are working on something so,” you flicked your hand toward the door. “Skedaddle.”
“Oof,” he teased. “You kiss your mother with that potty mouth?”
Eddie walked past Dustin, hands on his hips as he took you in. “Why, may I ask, are you dressed so fancy, princess? Hot date with a frog?”
Okay, guess we’re playing this game.
“The only frog I know is you, Munson.”
His hand flew to his heart. “You hear this, Henderson? Who knew Mouse could be such a brat?”
“If you’ll excuse me,” you attempt to sidestep him, but he blocks your path. Big brown eyes watching your every move. “Don’t you have anything better to do than push my buttons?” It’s a pitiful gripe. You know he enjoys this far too much.
“C’mon, sweetheart. If I didn’t talk to you, who the hell would?”
Ouch.
Something no doubt said in jest, but it hurt to realize just how right he was. You had tons of acquaintances, and you got along great with the teachers. As for friends, the well's a bit dry in that department.
You cleared away the tightness in you throat. “Yeah, I don’t have time for this. I’m actually contributing to society. How about you?” Your face was twisted into a sarcastic smile, attempting to hide the hurt.
Eddie on the other hand thought the two of you were simply playing your favorite game. Seeing just how flustered he could make you before you gave him a taste of his own medicine.
“Yeah, you’re a real Nancy Reagan.” He laughed, gesturing to your dress.
Your eyes honed in on him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” he reached out, sweeping a piece of hair off of your cheek. “If you wanted a little attention, you didn’t have to do all this.”
This.
Said as if the word tasted rotten. Disgusted by what you’d considered to be you at your most beautiful.
I must look like a fucking fool.
The stinging in your eyes got stronger every second you stood in his presence. Your gaze locked onto the floor, following your feet as you left. “Bye, Dustin. I’ll see you later.”
Dustin protested, calling you back before turning his disappointed glare to Eddie.
“Dude…” he chided.
Eddie scoffed, “What? Henderson I was joking—she knows that, okay? That’s our whole thing.”
"Eddie, she was crying!"
Were you? No, no way. This is what the two of you do.
"No, she wasn't." He said unconvincingly. "You don't know her like I do, little buddy. She's a good girl, loves the cat-and-mouse of it all." Eddie wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Dustin.
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Eddie had a fuck of a time in O'Donnell's class, and now on top of all of that, he's late to set up Hellfire.
He moved a bit quicker down the hall, easy enough since most of the school left to get ready for the Desperate Dance. He intentionally always schedules DND on nights like this, that way he'd never have to be caught dead--
Eddie's stopped in his tracks at the sight of the trashcan at the end of the hall. He spots a familiar piece of red fabric hanging out of the bin.
He pulled it like a magician, revealing more and more of the velvet clothing until its fully removed,
A dress.
Your dress.
Why the fuck did you throw it in the trash? You we're the most confident Eddie had ever seen you while you wore this thing.
...and you looked drop dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.
He heard your voice coming from the gym, and abandoned all thoughts of DND.
Eddie burst through the double doors, ignoring the frilly pink and red decorations for the dance. He weaved between the underclassmen carefully setting up the tables and backdrops to make his way over to you.
You, who now instead of being in your beautiful fucking dress, are in you school-supplied gym uniform. Your hair was pulled back, no longer falling in the perfectly natural way you had it earlier. Your makeup was gone--Eddie didn't mind that, he didn't think you needed it anyway.
But you'd never looked so small to him.
He called your name more gently than you've ever heard him speak. When you turned and saw your dress in his grip, you wanted to disappear.
Had he come to gloat?
"Why the hell was this in the trash?" he's not smirking, or sarcastic when he says it.
"Didn't like it." It's all the pain in your throat will let you get out.
You walk away from him, hurrying to find something else to do beside stand there and be made fun of by Eddie Munson.
"Bullshit," he calls after you, quick on your heels. "You don't wear a dress like this and look the way you look in it and just decide you don't like it."
You could feel the tears returning as soon as you stopped walking. "I don't know what you wanna hear," your back was to Eddie, but you felt his gaze regardless. "I just didn't like it...anymore, okay?"
The fake organization of the ribbons in front of you didn't deter him, he remained behind you in silence until he couldn't take it anymore.
"Did...did I say something? Earlier, in the AV Club." He spoke so softly, and with such sincerity, you'd never know it was Eddie talking to you.
You sniffled, angry at yourself for letting him hear how upset you were. "I don't know what you mean."
"Henderson," He's quick on your heels. "Henderson said you were crying when you left."
You don't--can't say anything. Trying desperately to will the tightness in your throat to go away and the tears to dry before they fall from your eyes. A small, shaking breath passes your lips.
"Please look at me, Mouse." His voice is hushed when he calls out to you.
You turn to him begrudgingly. Hoping if he saw the mess he made he'd leave well enough alone.
But when he sees your face, with red eyes and damp tear-stained cheeks, his heart falls into his stomach.
"Oh, oh sweetheart--"
You beat him to it. "I'm fine, Munson. Just...just give me the stupid thing, okay? I'm better off invisible, anyway."
"You've never been invisible to me." Eddie hands you the dress, and watches as you wring it between your hands. "I'm sorry, Mouse."
You scoff, "You didn't--"
"Yes I did," He says firmly. Eddie steps into you, closer than he's been before. "I made an asinine comment thinking we were playing our little game, but it's not a game if someone gets hurt, especially you."
Eddie swipes away the tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You looked beautiful. You're always beautiful, but that dress? Honey, I couldn't think straight. I'm a dumbass half the time, but I turned into a god damned Neanderthal when I saw you in that."
Your brain couldn't process what was happening. It almost sounded like Eddie...liked you?
"I thought," You looked down, embarrassed to even say it out loud. "I finally felt pretty, pretty enough to be seen and not just in the background."
Eddie's brow softens at your words, "Mouse, I see you. You're one of the only things I look for throughout the day. Always lookin' out for the pretty shy girl with the smile that makes me go weak in the knees."
You laugh at that. "I guess I always look for the obnoxious metal head that's way too good at getting under my skin."
Eddie chest rumbles with a laugh, too. "You're too good at calling me on my crap, what do you expect me to do?"
A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and it has Eddie clearing his throat. "Can--can I give you a hug? Hate that I made my favorite girl cry."
The smile on your face speaks volumes, but you nod anyway.
When you're wrapped in Eddie's arms, his warmth seeps through your bones, relieving any tension or nerves. His scent invades your senses, warming your belly and heart. You melt into him completely.
Eddie can't believe how well you fit in his arms, like a damn puzzle piece if you asked him. He smells you shampoo, and memorizes the fragrance, filing it away in his mind as his new favorite smell.
When you pull back, he leans his forehead on yours. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I really am."
You nod, moving his head a bit as it rests on yours. "I know."
Eddie steps away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Ya know, uh, if you're not busy, I'm running a DND campaign tonight. I'd love it if you sat in and maybe after...I don't know, maybe I could take you to Benny's?"
You smirked, eyes narrowing at him. "You asking me out, Munson?"
His eyes widened in sheer panic, "Oh--oh my God, I read this all wrong, huh? Please just forget--"
You're quick to ease his worry. "I'd love too."
Putting the dress on the table, you offer Eddie your hand. "Show me the way, Dungeon Master."
He takes it eagerly, but doesn't walk anywhere yet.
"Eddie?" You giggle.
"One second, princess. Damn knees turned to jelly again."
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urfavlarry · 27 days
Note
now... can we get that jealous Aiden but with Tyler?
Thank you❤
Jealous!Tyler Hernández x gn!reader
warnings: swearing, bad grammar, kinda short
summary: you got to a basketball court with Tyler, his teammates coming along as well when one of them decides to be a bit too touchy
A/N: i know he plays baseball but I made him play basketball for this fic haha
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You sat in the shade on the bleachers, watching Tyler and his teammates practice for an upcoming match with another school. You believed in them since they played with that school before and to say they were kinda bad was an understatement. You take some photos of Tyler in secret, and smile down at your phone. “How is he always so effortlessly pretty?” You think to yourself and put your phone away and decide to draw. You weren’t half bad at drawing, mostly drawing backgrounds and clothing designs. You were in your own world, lost in your thought when you feel a presence next to you. You look up to see one of Tylers teammates who was watching you with a smile. You smile awkwardly and wave; “Hey..?” You say hesitantly and close your sketchbook. “Hey, you’re Y/N right?” You nod and pray for this awkward interaction to end. “Yep, that’s.. uh.. that’s me.” You say and fiddle with your fingers, eying Tyler who was on the other side of the court.
The guy inches closer to you, putting an arm around your waist and your whole body stiffens. Your mind goes blank and every muscle in your body is as stiff as a rock. “Why are you here all alone? Why not come and play with us?” He asks and smiles at you, this fake, eerie smile. “Oh, I don’t really know how to play.” You quickly answer and try to keep distance between you but this guy really didn’t know what personal space is. “I could teach you..” He grabs your wrists and puts his chin on your shoulder. “When you wanna shoot for the hoop you put one arm here.” He guides your arm down and puts the other higher than the other. “Then when you want to throw it you do..” He gets cut off by someone yelling his name and he lifts his chin up to look in that direction. He doesn’t let go of your wrists and you just look down, feeling humiliated. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” You hear an oh so familiar voice that you love so much and thank the gods that sent this angel to your rescue aka Tyler. “Hey, I was just teaching them how to play man, what are you so mad about hm? You’re acting like they’re your partner.” Tyler looks at him with a pissed of expression, pushing him off of you.
“Hey the fuck?!” The guy yells as you quickly gather your things and get off the bleachers. The guy was quite aggressive and pushed Tyler back, earning another push from Tyler. That seemed to even worsen the situation and the guy punched Tyler right in the nose. “Oh hell no.” Tyler says and throws the guy down, punching him repeatedly. There was blood everywhere, Tyler finally stopping after he heard a satisfying crack from the guys nose.
Tyler rubs the blood off his nose and grabs your wrist and leaves the court. You walk with him, staying quiet the whole way to his house. He unlocks the door and walks upstairs into the bathroom. “Sit.” You tell him and he looks at you and softens his expression, still kinda annoyed. You grab the first aid kit and grab bandages and some rubbing alcohol. You clean his bruised knuckles and wrap them in some bandages and clean his bloody nose, handing him a tissue to stop the bleeding.
You sit on the counter where the sink is and just quietly stay there, letting him collect his thoughts. It was an awkward silence so you finally decide to say something; “Hey i’m—” “Are you—” You both say at the same time and you shut your mouth so he can tell what he wants to say. He rubs his neck and waves you over so you come over, standing between his legs as he looks up at you. “Hey, I’m sorry for lashing out, I didn’t mean to make a scene.” He says and frowns a bit. You smile and kiss his forehead, bringing him into an embrace. You breath in his scent and relax under his touch. “No, it’s fine really, i’m grateful that you protected me. Another second with him and I swear he would be dead.” You say and hear a low chuckle escape his lips as he plays with your hair. You stay like that for a bit until he picks you up and walks with you to his room. He closes the door behind him and lays you down on the bed, laying down on top of you. He mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your neck. You rub his back look up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Tyler notices that you were a bit too quiet and looks up; “Hey you okay amor?” You nod and simply smile, still not looking at him. “I’m fine, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you as a boyfriend.” He smiles and peppers your face with kisses, making you giggle. “And I’m lucky to have the best partner in the world.”
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muniimyg · 3 months
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3: the favourite snacks // series m.list
note: ohhh... it's kinda cute here ;) how are we liking them? lmk ur thoughts! oc's moment to shine is coming soon !!!
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
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//
As usual, Jungkook interrupts your reading time. Before, it didn’t mean much. Before, he would quietly sit beside you and mind his own business until he got out of his mind bored. Then, he would bug you and you would have no choice but to put your book down. You didn't mind it before. Before, it was whatever.
However, the scene is different today.
Today, he ran to the library after his lecture and couldn’t find you. Disappointed, Jungkook turned his heels to head home… But as fate would have it; he found you along the way.
At the sight of you, right then and there, Jungkook decided that this was his favourite season. 
The season of you.
How could it not be when this… You… Are just so beautiful? As you sit on the grass, leaning against the tree trunk, the wind gently blows cherry blossom petals around you. It’s beautiful. It looks magical.. Like it was fake. I mean, it had to be right? You look so perfect. It looks like those made-up scenes in movies. Jungkook rubs his eyes to make sure it isn’t. This is real life. 
This is you. 
However, his dream-like state of mind is shaken awake when he approaches you, and you refuse to give him the time of day.
First, he stands in front of you and greets you warmly. You ignore him. Then, he sits down beside you and nudges you. Even though your body moves to his push, you still remain silent. Now, this is his last attempt before he loses his mind. 
Jungkook inches closer to you. You sit still, doing your best not to move away. You have to stay put. You have to stand your ground! But life gets 10 times more difficult because he smells so good. As he leans forward, he fixes your hair, and you're awestruck. He tucks your hair behind your ear, sending chills down your spine. You swear it’s just the cool breeze, but you know in your heart it’s him. 
He makes your heart race. 
He smells good.
He looks good, too.
It's no wonder your body betrays you. You squirm from his touch, unable to hold yourself still. It’s gentle and light—but it’s just so ticklish! As you react, Jungkook offers a smug smile. In return, you push his hand away and huff at him. 
“I’m not talking to you.”
Jungkook’s smile drops. 
“What? Why?” His mind spins with confusion. Meanwhile, you keep a straight face and go back to reading. “What did I do?”
Keeping your book up, you answer him without really answering him.
“You know what you did.”
Jungkook thinks for a moment. What could he have done? The last time he saw you was a few days ago. You two met up to have a quick study session together. It was the same routine! What could he have done wrong since then? Rather, what did he do wrong then?
“... I’m not really sure what I did wrong… Can I have a hint or something?” His tone is genuine and curious, making it harder for you to dish-out your anger.
So, you don’t respond.
Impatient and annoyed at your pettiness, he grabs your book and lowers it to see your face. 
Infuriated, you whine. “Hey! I’m reading—”
“—And I’m trying to talk to you.” Jungkook snaps. "Come on, ___. What's going on? Talk to me, please."
You glare at him, completely baffled at his audacity. Does he seriously think that he can play dumb? He can't. You won't let him.
“Well, I’m not talking to you.”
With an eyebrow raised, he speaks out his thoughts. “Why not? I don’t think I did anything wrong—”
“You lied to me!” You blurt. “You lied to me, and you know it. I looked so stupid!”
Jungkook’s throat feels dry. 
Lied to you?
About what?
He tries to run everything he has ever said to you back. He tries to remember everything from the moment you two first met to this very moment now… Every story he has ever said and every tiny side comment—yet, he can’t think of a time he was dishonest. He had no reason to lie to you! Talking to you is so easy because you’re such a good listener. If anything, talking to you has compelled him to be more honest… Jungkook reflects and concludes: no. He is not a liar. Besides, it’s not like he was hiding anything—
“You can skate,” you reveal. 
Jungkook blinks.
“Who told you?”
Fed up, you shove your book to Jungkook's chest. He lets it hit him and drop before reaching for your hands. Quickly, you swipe them away from him. No way is he holding your hand! Not after all the crap he just pulled.
Crossing your arms, you begin to confront him. “Yoongi and Jin were drinking last night. They called me and teased me about how dumb I was… How naive I was because you knew how to skate the entire time! I took the time to teach you how to skate because you kept falling—a-and to what? Find out you were pretending the entire time? W-why would you do that? Why would you lie to me?” 
Oh, it’s bad. 
It’s pathetically horrible how Jungkook is so into you right now.
It melts his heart how you could be this serious and hurt over this little fib. This has to be the cutest thing you could ever do… Be mad at him for wanting to hold your hand just because he was mischievous about it. 
He wants to laugh. He wants to tell you that you’re cute and the entire thing was just a stupid boy-coded play… But, considering how bruise-hearted you’re acting… Jungkook thinks twice about it. 
Then, he decides to give in and abide by your needs. 
Answers.
You want answers and answers is what he’ll give you. 
“First of all: you’re not dumb,” Jungkook reassures you. You make a sour face and shake your head at him.
Groaning, you tell him: “Yes, I am! I looked like a total idiot trying to teach you how to skate when you’re literally a hockey player—”
“Second, I’m not a hockey player,” he chuckles. 
With a half smile, you return: “Right… You’re just a liar.”
Okay. 
… He deserved that. 
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say or do… Honestly, what are you supposed to say or do? The issue is ridiculous but at the same time, he understands you feel deceived. So… now what? 
Honesty. 
“Okay… I admit it,” Jungkook sighs, accepting his defeat. “I lied to you about not knowing how to skate. I’m a liar. I’m sorry—”
“Ah ha!” you point your finger at him. Then, you poke his chest. “That's why I’m not talking to you—”
“But I’m apologizing—”
You shush him. “Doesn’t matter. At least, not right now. Like... Oh my goodness, Jungkook! I’m so embarrassed! It’s bad enough that—”
“—That I like you?” Jungkook interrupts you. You’re tongue-tied, unable to find words to deny or confirm. With shaky eyes, he does his best to look at you with the sincerest gaze. “I refuse to apologize for my feelings."
"It's not about your feelings—"
Jungkook plays smart. He's all in anyways. "Okay. Fine, it's not about my feelings. It's about yours, okay? ___, I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to hold your hand… Is it that bad? Am I that awful for wanting to hold your hand?”
Slowly, you shake your head. You didn't meant to make him feel bad about his feelings for you! That wasn't the point. The point was... Well..
Oh, god.
What was the point again?
Your words beat your thoughts. “N-no… I just… I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.”
Jungkook looks at you softly, and it makes your heart stumble. Booping your nose, his lips curve into a smirk.
“It’s called flirting, dummy.”
“Hmph,” you pout, turning your face away from him. Under your breath, you mutter, “... So you’re calling me dumb too, huh?”
Jungkook panics. “W-what? No! That’s not what I—”
Without much thought, he grabs your hand and squeezes it. You turn to him, eyeing the way he’s holding your hand. You send him a look, and immediately, he drops your hand and puts it up in surrender. Then, he reaches for his backpack and unzips it. 
“Look! I know my apology doesn’t mean much to you right now, but it’s true. I am so sooo sorry, ___. I’ll deal with the guys. I’ll tell them to shut up and drop it. You’re not dumb—okay?” Jungkook digs inside his backpack and pulls out a plastic bag filled with various items. “Snacks! I was at the convenience store... Then, I suddenly thought of you. So, I bought your favourite snacks. Then I headed to the library but then you weren’t there… And now I’m here—a-and there’s so many! So many snacks, ___! There’s banana milk, some Yakult, and oh, I even bought that cup with the fancy ice—”
“... Is that pocky?” You shift, taking a small peek.
Jungkook’s eyes light up. He nods, shaking the bag in front of you. “Almond crush… Cos I have a crush on you—” You sit up and send him a warning look. Jungkook leans his body back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay! Sorry! Almond crush is for me… The strawberry pocky is for you… Your favourite, cutie.”
Biting your bottom lip, you give in.
Your heart can refuse Jungkook, but it remains powerless against strawberry pocky. Jungkook takes out your strawberry pocky first. You’re drooling at this point… Before you can hold your hand out and ask for the pocky, Jungkook already opens it for you. When he successfully gets through the box and rips the wrapper, he offers the pocky to you as a peace offering. 
Unspoken, he knows he’s forgiven the minute you take it from his hands. 
Yet, he plays it safe. He waits for you to get a few bites in and for the smile on your face to appear. Once it does, he smiles cheekily at you. 
“Still mad at me?”
Between chews, you reply, “Let me think..."
"Whatever you need to do, my smart girl."
You shove a few more pieces of pocky in your mouth. After you chew and he laughs at you, you voice your decision.
"Nope... Not mad at you anymore. We’re good.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes as he reaches for the top of your head. He ruffles your hair and continues to laugh to himself… Perhaps, it wasn’t just about the lie. You were hangry. Mentally, he notes to always keep strawberry pocky in his bag. In case of future screw-ups or of hangry ___ moments. 
When he’s sure your mood has improved completely, he opens his pocky. 
You watch as he does so. Jungkook takes a bite out of his pocky stick and moans in approval. As he eats, he takes a moment to look out at the view of the rest of the field. Jungkook takes it all in. Other students are sitting on the grass, under the other cherry blossom trees, and even playing. It's a calm late afternoon, and he can't help but think about how much he likes this moment.
How the raspberry lemonade sky is peering over the horizon. How you're beside him. How cool the spring breeze is... It just feels so good to be with you.
“This is a nice spot!" He tells you. "I like the view. I like you—"
"You're ruining my peace," you complain. Shutting your eyes, you focus on the pocky. "But yeah, it's a nice spot. I found it while I had that whole week of avoiding you."
Jungkook laughs. "So I found your new hideout? Sorry, not sorry."
You shrug and point at the Yakult inside the bag. He digs in the bag and takes it out. Like the pocky, he prepares it before giving it to you. When he hands you the drink, you take a sip.
"Can this be our spot?"
You choke.
Jungkook's shoulders drop, finding it hilarious and also a little offending at the same time. Was it really this hard to flirt with you? Are you this childish? He never noticed.
It's annoying that his feelings only grow even more.
"Oh my god," he moves closer to you and pats your back. You take another sip to help relieve your throat. As you recover, he lectures you. "Fine. You can have this damn spot."
When he moves back to his spot, you sit and stare at him. Jungkook continues to eat his pocky. Moving on, he pushes the conversation forward.
"Ahh, I forgot how good this is. Almond is the best.” 
You tilt your head at him, wondering what it’s like to be completely wrong about a simple thing. It's like all your pressing thoughts dismissed themselves.
“Strawberry is better,” you claim. You say it rather simply. You say it honestly.
Jungkook copies your head tilt. 
“Strawberry is overhyped,” he argues with you. “Almond is more expensive. The ingredients are more worth it. It’s not just a fruit-flavored cream—”
You huff at him. “Strawberry is not overhyped! Just because it’s cheaper doesn’t mean it’s worth less—”
“Actually… It does.”
The anger that you had earlier? The one that went away? Yeah… It’s back. 
Fuming, you begin your rant. “Strawberry is classic. Almond was made because people got bored of chocolate, so they added almonds to trick people into thinking it was completely different… It's the same thing! Strawberry is an original flavour like—” As you explain, you put another stick in between your lips and suck on the cream. “Mhmm! It’s the best—”
Your words cut off. 
Not because Jungkook retaliates. 
Not because you’re chewing your pocky. 
No. 
It’s because Jungkook dips his head low and takes a bite out of the other end of your pocky stick. He pulls away rather quickly, but it happens… 
It happened. 
His lips brushed against yours. 
Oh my god. 
Jeon Jungkook kissed you! 
Wide-eyed, you pause for a second. Then, you panic. “W-what—”
“Mhmm.. I guess it’s okay,” Jungkook swallows his bite. “I think I still like—”
“Y-you kissed me!” you exclaim, bringing your hands to your lips. 
Jungkook blinks at you.
“No, I didn’t.”
“J-Jungkook," you breathe, “are you gaslighting me? You literally just kissed me!”
Your mind is spinning.
How the heck did that just happen? One second you’re defending strawberry pocky with your life, and the next… You feel more alive than ever. Jungkook has always been sneaky, but you never expected this. It was so innocent yet so mischievous—you have no words!
Perhaps, your inability to explain how you truly feel is what frustrates you and causes you to sound so naggy. 
On the other hand, Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing. He has no issues facing the repercussions. In his heart, he knows he’s just following it… So, why does it matter? This is him taking a chance. This is him… Winning. 
This is you folding. 
“___, that was not a kiss.” Jungkook reasons with you. “Why? Are you upset because you wanted it to be?"
No words. 
"It's okay to be disappointed," he adds. "I'm disappointed you don't want to share this spot with me. The library is boring as fuck so I don't really want it to be our spot, you know—"
“Y-you’ve got to be k-kidding me!” you cry. “Leave the library alone, you hater."
"... Okay?" Jungkook snickers. "You're greedy today. Do you always have to be right? Is that a thing I should know about you, future girlfriend?"
"Future what?" your eyes bulge. "O-okay, fine. Fine! You win. It wasn’t a kiss. It was horrible anyway. I expected more—”
Jungkook squints at you. “We didn’t even kiss, and you’re already accusing me of being a bad kisser? Damn, at least let me prove you wrong.”
Shaking your head profusely. “T-that’s not what I’m saying! I’m sure you’re an excellent kisser—in fact, I should brace myself, right? B-because you’re probably going to kiss me one of these day, and I’ll—”
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
You pause. 
“W-what?”
“You heard the question,” Jungkook inches closer to you. In your mind, your body stiffens… In reality, you’re melting. Your body slightly leans in towards him and Jungkook has to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Y-you already did.”
“You said it wasn't a kiss... Who's the liar now?"
You stay silent. Partly because you have no words and partly because you're afraid of what will happen if you don't speak.
Jungkook presses on. "You’re not answering my question…”
Silence.
Then, as he speaks again, you realize you're stuck either way… You’re too shy to actually say the words, but he will take your silence, and find the truth. Or... You can say it for yourself. So, okay.
Fine.
You give in.
“Y-you can do what you want. I just… I thought you already kissed me.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at you for the second time this afternoon. “No, silly… If I kissed you, it would’ve been like this—”
Before you know it, it happens. 
It really happens. 
Soft, slow, and sweetly��Jeon Jungkook kisses you.
He kisses you under the cherry blossom tree with the raspberry lemonade sky above, and the spring breeze. He kisses you until you can't breathe, and your heart falls for him. Jungkook kisses you in your spot.
The spot.
Yours and his.
711 notes · View notes
anasanthology · 9 months
Text
Always Close Your Tabs.
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WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ MDNI (I don’t care who reads just if your account age is set to under 18 don’t interact please), step-cest, pseudo-incest, stepbrother/stepsister pairing, degradation kink, light face slapping, very light praise kink, Dom/Sub, lowkey Hard Dom!Leon Kennedy, face fucking, oral (m receiving), mean Leon (I feel he’s a little ooc), like one mention of breeding kink, we got a little sweet aftercare at the end, not as tame as other stuff I’ve written, fem-specific gendered terms. Not proofread.
Notes: FIRST LEON FIC I’M POSTING 😚 actually feeling kinda good about this one! I felt like finishing this and posting it today so here so go!!! I hope you like it ☺️ as always, likes and—especially—comments are very VERY much appreciated 😌 if you have any tags you think I should add just tell me cause I’m not sure if I missed any 🧐 ANYWAYS, enjoy, lovelies 💕
4.5k words | Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader
The couch was irritating you, you were hyper aware of it, the texture, the firmness, everything about it. It didn’t matter where you sat though, everywhere was irritating. Everything was irritating. Your parents were out of town on some dumb anniversary. No. Your parent and her husband. Leaving you home alone with your stepbrother.
 Leon. 
He was annoying. He was rude, crass, and bitchy. When your mom had told you she was seeing a guy you were happy for her, until she told you that he had a son a few months older than you. Other kids was the one dealbreaker for you, but your mom loved this man so much and you didn’t exactly have much time left to live with her. You could deal with it. So you met Leon, he didn’t talk the entire dinner but to introduce himself and then order something. This was 8 months ago.
Now you live with him.
You were sure that there were worse people to live with, like… Bundy or Dahmer maybe. He always had those loudmouth friends of his over. Chris, who would spend the whole time yelling at the tv and Luis, who would just flirt with you the whole time. The worst of it was that they would only hang out in the living room so you were always confined to your room till they left. That was unless you wanted to hear, ‘ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THAT DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH ME,’ and, ‘Hola, señorita, ¿Qué pasa? You look gorgeous,’ which… you didn’t wanna hear that. Not to even mention how insufferable he was when they weren’t around. Which was the situation now. Sitting on the couch next to you was Leon Kennedy, staring up at the tv watching Desperate Housewives. He had this constant resting dick face that never seemed to go away, and along with that he also seemed to be followed by resting dick air everywhere he went. Especially now that his dad took away his phone and other electronics before your guys’ parents left for their trip. Because apparently that man cared jack shit for your sanity. Now, Leon was irritated. He was insufferable when he was irritated. It just radiated off of him and you were a porous permeable surface. You guys sat like that until…
“Can I use your laptop?”
“What?” You turned to him, his words bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Can I use your laptop?” He repeated himself.
“Uh… sure, I guess?” Shrugging you got off the couch before stopping in your tracks and pointing at him, “but I get to use your car!” Your eyes widen with excitement and you point at him.
“No, no way. You are not driving my car. Not gonna happen.” He huffed in amusement and shook his head.
“And why not?” Your hands went to your hips and you made a face.
“Because,” he mocks your tone, “you’ll crash it.”
“Says you! Leon, you are like the king of bad driving. You hit a tree last month! A tree! They don’t even move and they’ve been there for like years!” Your hands were flying everywhere at this point. You had your license, but since Leon was a little older and got his a little before you he got a car. And since he got a car—and only Jeff Bezos could comfortably pay for his car insurance—you didn’t get one, you had to share with your mom and stepdad. But since they were halfway across the country, you were stuck here.
“It was in my blind spot!”
“What about that mailbox last week? Or Ms. Anderson’s side mirror? Everything can’t be in your blind spot, Leon. That’s what windows are for.” you close your eyes and sigh, “you know what, I don’t care. Bottom line is, if you don’t let me drive your car, no laptop.” You knew you were reaching, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you lost anything if he said no. It wasn’t fair he got the car anyways, your mom promised you a year ago on your birthday that when you got your license she’d take you to a used car dealership and you could pick one. But apparently ‘situations change’ and ‘things don’t always go as planned’, so you were left having to explain to your friends that it actually wasn’t gonna happen. Leon could practically burn holes through your face with the way he was looking at you, honestly that’s probably what he was thinking about. He sighs and closes his eyes.
“Fine.” He opens his eyes and gives you just about the brattiest look imaginable. You just smile and giggle. Your eyes widened in surprise. You were not expecting him to actually say yes.
“Okay!” You practically sprint upstairs to your room, grabbing your laptop off the bed. You make your way back downstairs and bring it to him. “Here ya go!”
“Thanks.” He takes it with a scowl and gets up.
“Whaddya need it for anyways?”
“Because I wanna watch stuff.” He responds flatly.
“What kinds of stuff?” ‘Porn?’ Was your first thought, but you opted not to verbalize that. 
“Stuff you can’t watch on the tv?”
“Yes.”
“Why not?” You blinked at him.
“Because you’re watching the tv in here, dingus.” He didn’t look guilty. You know, like you would if you were gonna use your stepsister’s laptop to watch porn off of. He just looks annoyed. “Can I go watch some shit now or you gonna keep interrogating me, detective?”
“Jeez, moody. Sure, go.” You shoo him and turn back to the tv as you sit on the couch. He walks away to his room and you lay back covering your face with your arm. It felt like a weight had been lifted, the tension gone immediately. Part of you wanted to say it was just because he made the air so thick with irritation he could suffocate a room, but you knew that wasn’t completely true…
Leon was hot, like crazy hot.
It was frustrating being around that all day and night. Eating dinner across from an actual model… not easy. It was especially not easy when that model was a sarcastic asshole, and it was especially especially not easy when you kinda liked it. Yes every comment pissed you off, made you want to scream sometimes, punch a hole in the wall. but it also had you wondering… ‘would he… I mean in bed did he…’ god you hoped so. ‘Ew, no you didn’t.’ It was dumb—and entirely inappropriate—but that’s all you could think about when he was around. At some point all the irritation and hatred you had for him just living here, turned into… something you shouldn’t think about.
But who cares.
You didn’t have time to think about that. You had much more pressing matters to attend to, like… desperate housewives. You sit up and lay your body on top of your legs like you were folding yourself in half. You looked up at the screen and flipped onto your back kicking your legs over the back of the couch. It was like you just couldn’t get comfortable no matter what. 
“Mmmmmuuhhhhhh.” Sighing you sat back up like normal, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and onto your tired form. And then it hit you.
The computer.
‘Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.’ Standing up abruptly you started making your way to Leon’s room, practically running up the stairs.
You were tired last night. Really, really tired.
So maybe, just maybe, you forgot to close out of a tab last night. Or maybe a couple. Besides it is your computer, why do you need to close out of anything? You don’t, or at least you don’t when your step brother isn’t using your computer.
“Leon, I need my computer.” You knocked at his door and turned the knob quickly. Locked, of fucking course. “Leon?” Bouncing around a little on the balls of your feet, impatiently you step back from the door and shake the tension out of your hands. ‘Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he… didn’t even get on the computer yet. “Leon, I don’t… I don’t need your car. It’s fine, I asked Claire and she said she’d drive me this week.” His door opens like that’s exactly what he was waiting to hear.
“Okay, fine. Take it.” He steps away from the door and you walk inside, looking back at him you take extra attention to his expression. He definitely knows. You just turn back unable to think about that for too much longer, your face burning with heat as you pick up your laptop off of his bed. You feel a pair of hands snake around your waist and you tense up. “But first, I have to know why my slutty little sister thought it was a good idea to give me her laptop with porn open.” It was like your brain took a screenshot. ‘Did he just…’
“I don’t… Leon, I’m sorry. I didn’t-I forgot.”
“Oh you’re such a liar.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “No, I think you did it on purpose. You’re such a smart girl, I don’t believe you could be so stupid.” Your breath got heavier at his accusation.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I fell asleep ‘nd forgot it was on there.” He didn’t respond but his hands started running up and down your sides. “Leon, stop teasing me.” Your voice came out just a whiny whisper, sounding a lot more needy rather than urgent like you meant it.
“You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into that sort of stuff. Always get so nervous when Luis flirts with you, always get so flustered when people touch each other in a movie.” He was ignoring your request completely. “But it makes sense now, you get all shy cause you like it.” Your eyes widen and you squirm in his arms, not exactly trying to get away. Not really trying to get away at all actually. “Wonder how many times I’ve been sitting with you on the couch while your cunt gets all wet. So shameless, darling.” Your body is frozen in embarrassment, it’s kinda hot. ‘God. Don’t think like that Jesus.’
“No, never,” Liar. “Leon, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Yet you aren’t trying to stop me, are you?” His voice is so completely self assured and cocky. Asshole. It made you so wet. You aren’t trying to stop him. You don’t want him to stop, even though you should. He pulls his hands back a little for you, so that if you want to get out you can. Without as much internal protest as you’d hoped, you stay completely still. “See, I was right. You are just a little slut who wants to get touched by her stepbrother.” You visibly cringe at that but feel slick spill into your panties at his words.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” His hands go back around you, pulling you close to him. You could feel the outline of his hardened cock against you.
“Stop… being weird.” You shifted around in his arms.
“How am I being weird?” He snickered.
“Because you’re… stop saying it like that?” Your face was burning at this point. He was pushing up against you, pressing your hips against the edge of his bed.
“Saying it like what? Isn’t that exactly what’s going on? A dumb whore getting wet for her brother?”
“Leon.” His hand dipped down the front of your pants, running his finger down your clothed slit.
“Oh but why? It feels like you like it when I talk to you like that. I mean… given the videos you were watching, I bet you like it.” You pushed up against him. You just want him closer, it doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. He knew what he was doing, making you feel small, degrading you. “You do like it, fuck.” He started grinding himself against your back. You did like it, you wanted him to keep going, keep making you feel small.
“No it… Leon, it’s weird.”
“I know it is, but you like it. You like how depraved it makes you feel. You can’t deny it, I quite literally have seen the stuff you watch to get off.” He was laughing a little, it only amplified how hot and humiliating this was. “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. Everytime you’d roll your eyes when I’d tease you all I could think about was taking it further, pinning you against the counter or the couch and just telling you anything I could think of.”
“Thought you said you didn’t think I’d be into this?”
“You can be into anything I want you to in my fantasies.” His other hand snakes up to start running his thumb up and down the column of your throat. This really should not have such an effect on you, but it does. Your eyes flutter and you let out a soft needy breath as you lay your head back against him. “Oh you like that? You like that I just imagine you in any position I want?” You nod your head reluctantly. Your lips open and close but no sound comes out. He’s barely even touched you but it feels like your tongue is twisted up in your mouth. You can feel your resolve just slipping away the more he speaks to you, the more he touches you.
“Leon, this is… this is so wrong…” your voice comes out so quiet you aren’t sure he could hear you. Or maybe it’s just because the blood pounding in your ears is so loud that you can barely hear yourself.
“But you like that don’t you? Yeah, I know you do.” His finger travels further up to slide across your bottom lip. Involuntarily—you tell yourself—your lips part slightly. He just laughs softly behind you, the smirk that was undoubtedly plastered on his face was audible. “Does this slutty girl want something in her mouth? There you go…” he slides his finger past your lips and onto your tongue. His thumb starts pushing slow thrusts against your tongue. Your hands go to hold onto his forearm feebly, not trying to move or stop him but just needing something to hold onto. “Yeah? You like it when I finger your pretty little mouth?” You just whine and start sucking around his thumb. “Fuck, bet you’d do so good on my cock.” You turned around to face him.
It was stupid, and you don’t know why you did it… yes you do, liar.
“What?” He grinned down at you. Now being able to see your lips around his thumb he couldn’t get enough of it. You knew you were turned on but holy shit you weren’t expecting him to look like… that. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes were lidded. A light blush dusts his cheeks. God he looked good. You imagined you probably looked something similar, probably worse. “I asked you a question.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth and slides it down your chin and across your neck. ‘Oh, right.’
“I um… can I?” You swallowed heavily, barely able to focus on your words with his fingers rubbing at your soft skin.
“‘Can you’ what?” He just laughs, he can tell you’re struggling. Your face heats up with embarrassment realizing just how fuck-drunk you already are. And then he just gets the cockiest look on his face. “Oh, you wanna suck my cock? That what this is?” You just nod weakly, you couldn’t deny it if you tried. “Hmm? I can’t hear you, what do you want?”
“I wanna…” you swallow thickly, “I wanna suck your cock, please.” You chewed on the inside of your lip and just looked at him. He felt like he could just about cum from how needy your voice sounded when you said ‘please’.
“Fuck,” his hand slide up your neck and went to the back of your head. “I know you do. Now get on your knees.” His hand tangled in your hair right up against your scalp and he tightened his grip a little, pulling your head back ever so slightly in the process. The way he was talking to you, how he was treating you, all like you were just some object for his pleasure… fuck, it made you wet. If this situation could possibly get any worse from you guys just doing anything at all in the first place, getting turned on from your stepbrother degrading and objectifying you would definitely make it worse. You moaned softly when he pulled your hair as you started to kneel down in front of him slowly, struggling to resist the urge of responding ‘yes, sir.’ When your knees were on the ground and you finally stopped shifting around to get as comfortable as possible you finally realized the position you were in.
You were on your knees in front of your stepbrother about to suck him off…
But at this point, all thought or consideration of morality and shame had long been lost on you. Instead the lewdness of the situation only fueled the fire and part of you was just getting off on how wrong this was. You felt filthy and all it did was make you want to continue. ‘Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?’, would be what you’d typically be thinking. And you were, just less in a self-deprecating way and more in a self-humiliation way. You bite your lip at the site in front of you, Leon’s clothed hard cock in his gray sweatpants. He had noticed how fixated you were and tilted his head at you with a smirk. 
“You want it?” You just stared up at him and moved your hands up to his thighs as you slid them up. “I asked you a question, answer me.” He pulled your hair a little harder this time and you moaned a little louder.
“Yes, wan’ it, Leon, please.” You were completely breathless. It had felt like your mind had turned to mush. You hadn’t even registered his question as a question when he asked, you just wanted to touch him.
“Yeah, I know.” He pushed your head forward till your cheek was pressed up against his cock. “Pretty little cockwhore just wants me inside her.” Your breath quickened when he started grinding up against your face. “Or she just wants to feel me however I please.” His voice was teasing now and he just ground down against you harder.
“However you please, just… Leon, need you.” You barely even sounded like yourself anymore. Normal you would have just pushed him away in the beginning as you made your second-hand embarrassment apparent. Normal you would have known that that was one of the easiest ways to mess with someone and would have totally used it. But here you were instead, a strong-willed smart girl who never pulled any punches now on her knees getting debased completely and absolutely loving it.
“Mmm, you’ll let me use you however I want? What if this is how I wanna do it? What if I just wanna take my cock out and rub it against your face till I cum all over you?” Even in this state you knew he was trying to trap you. He wanted to get you to disagree so he could hear you begging for whatever you really wanted. But you wouldn’t disagree, cause you don’t.
“Even then, just anything you want.” He grinned at your reply. He was tempted, he really was, but after wanting you for so long he wasn’t gonna waste this chance just to prove a point. ‘Next time.’ He pulls your head back just a little so he can see your face. Your lips are slightly parted and you just stare up at him with a grazed over expression.
“Take it out.” He says firmly and raises his eyebrows. You look down at his crotch and bring your hands up to take his dick out of his pants. You feel a sudden sting on your cheek as he slaps you across the face. “No, look at me.” He grabs your jaw and tilts your face up towards his. You make eye contact with him as you start undoing the string on his sweatpants. Part of you wants to look away just so that he’ll slap you again but you don’t. You start pulling his sweatpants and underwear down till his cock swings free. Your eyes dart down to his dick and are only able to just barely register what you’re seeing before he slaps you again just a little harder. “Did you not hear what I said to you? Look. At. Me.” You moan softly and shake your head.
“I heard you, ‘m sorry I was just curious.” You sound a little like you’re about to cry but you’re far from sad about all this.
“You’re curious?” He mocks your voice and pouts his lip before scoffing and leaning down ever so slightly. His thumb caressing your neck. “Don’t worry, once I fuck this little throat you’ll have every answer you could possibly ask for.” You shudder a little before just nodding your head and opening your mouth. You loll your tongue out and he grins. “Yeah, stay like that.” He slaps his heavy tip on your tongue and you can taste the bitterness of his pre-cum. “Open wider.” You obey him and open your mouth further. He leans forward and spits in your mouth. Your eyes flutter and you press your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed. “You like that?” He laughs and rubs one of his fingers over your tongue. “You like it when I spit in your mouth? Fucking disgusting.” He grips his cock and guides it onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. He groans and holds your head back against the side of his bed before he starts thrusting into your mouth. “Mmm, fuck. Such a good girl with a slutty little mouth. What would your friends say if they knew you’re getting face fucked by your stepbrother, and loving it so much you’re practically dripping onto the floor? What would your mom say?” You really didn’t wanna think about his second question.
“Mmm.” You just hum around his cock in response and he smirked. It’s not like you could actually respond. You kept your eyes on him, loving the way his jaw tightened when he hit the back of your throat. Or the way the muscles in his arms would twitch and flex under his tight shirt. He was right, you did love this and you could feel the discomfort of your sticky panties between your thighs, damp and uncomfortable. His hand went to the top of your head to grip your hair between his fingers and he started pushing in faster.
“Mmh, oh fuck… love sucking on your big brothers cock, yeah? Such a fucking cockwhore it doesn’t matter who it’s from.” He was thrusting at a fervent pace and it was evident he was just chasing his own high. Using your mouth as his personal fleshlight to fuck and fill. It was hot being treated like this, especially by Leon. He tightened his hold on your hair and pushed in a little too far which made you choke. It made slick pour into the gusset of your panties. Fuck, he was right. You’re a total slut. Your hands went up to hold onto his thighs for support as your eyes closed. Spit drooled down your chin and onto your chest, tears poured down your cheeks which Leon took pleasure in wiping away. “Maybe next time you’ll let me fuck that pretty pussy. Bet she’s just crying for me, you are.” ‘Next time?’ The thought made your skin burn with arousal. “Think you’re gonna let me fill up all your holes. Fuck. Yeah, I wanna see that. My obedient little stepsister leaking cum onto my bed, absolutely spent. Such a fucking whore you’d probably ask me to do it again. Fuck your little pussy till it’s sloppy and bred.” 
He wasn’t even looking at you. His head tilted back and his hips stuttered. You could tell he was getting close.
“I’m gonna cum down this slutty throat and you’re gonna swallow it all and thank me.” His face and neck were a little red and he had this sheen of sweat that the light from his lamp bounced off of. He looked like some kind of angel and if he wasn’t aggressively fucking your face you might’ve actually believed he was. “Fuck, oh take it.” He moaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat. You could feel his hot cum paint stripes into your mouth. He rutted his tip right against the back of your throat while he moaned and mumbled. “Good girl, good girl. Take it, baby.” He pulled back out of your mouth and looked down at you while he stroked himself a few times to make sure he was done. A little bit of cum spilled from his tip and onto your thigh. You could finally swallow now that he was out of your mouth and god it felt good. You opened your mouth to show him that you really did it.
“Thank you.” You smiled up at him softly and he shuddered at your words. He looked away from you and cursed as his face got red. He was just talking earlier; he didn't think you’d actually do it.
“Quit it, you’re gonna make me hard again.” He seemed a little embarrassed. He moved your hair out of your face and went to the bathroom across the hall. You heard water running for a bit and then he came back and kneeled in front of you. He silently used a warm rag to wipe away the dried tears from your face and the little bit of cum that spilled onto your chin. “There you go.” 
“Thank you.” He wiped away the bit that was on your thigh and you guys just stared at each other for a second. It wasn’t really awkward but more like each of you had something to say that you just wouldn’t. 
He leaned forward and kissed you. It was soft and sweet and you had plenty of room to move away if you didn’t want it. There was such a contrast from what you were doing now and what you had been doing, hell, how he was acting with you now and how he had always acted with you; it felt like it was short circuiting your brain, but in a good way. He pulled back and set the rag on his bedside table before picking you up and setting you on his bed. He crawled in next to you and put his arms around you. It felt a little weird but in a nice comforting way. It was something you really needed. You almost forgot that you had been sucking him off—if you could even call it that—like two minutes ago. You really weren’t tired but you laid there with him for who knows how long. 
Maybe you really didn’t hate having a stepbrother.
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honey-milk-depresso · 3 months
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hello love, i adore your work.
could i get something with the batboys with a spider woman reader?
💜💜
I’m making them spiderperson cuz gotta stay GN for everyone to self insert themselves 🩷
BUT YEAHHDHWIAHFOAJDKSJX MORE BATFAM REQUESTS >:)))
Requests open until 1 Feb (GMT 8+)! Please read the rules on my pinned post (provided the navi post link to go to rules). Thank you!🩷🩷
***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!
Batbros with a Spider-S/o
Dick Grayson
He loves you! You manoeuvre in the air and swing about just like him! Just that you got webs, cool!
Definitely joins you in hanging upside down, also loving to compete with you (lovingly) to see who can jump the farthest, or who can do the most bomb-tastic somersault with you and you guys have so much fun during patrol it’s not even patrol anymore.
Beating bad guys in the most dramatic, acrobatic way possible is definitely something Bruce and the rest of the brothers all sigh collectively because you two can be pretty chaotic.
But whatever, you two have so much fun jumping around.
Has taken you out on dates as Nightwing and your spider-sona, because even people around the city thinks you two are a match made in heaven. I imagined a pizza guy giving them a box and saying for them to have fun while swinging around with Dick and having pizza in between your teeth while you race to see who can reach the far end of a street whilst swinging and stunting about.
Overall, you two make a loveable couple of acrobats. <3
Jason Todd
He thought you were annoying at first, but even he can’t deny you make his day (most of the time).
He feels a bit irritated yet amused whenever you hang upside down and playfully greet him or joke with him while on patrol, sometimes in secret which scares the shit out of him when you pop out of no where and he starts cussing before letting out a long, exasperated sigh when he looks at you laughing to yourself. Damn spider…
But even so, he can’t help but dote on you, even if you can be an annoying ball of energy sometimes. He just can’t help but let you jump around him with your spiderwebs all over the house when you try to take something from afar, using the webs to pull it towards you. Although… you are a bit bashful and guilty for keeping his tidy room messy with webs everywhere that you help clean up which he appreciates.
On patrols, you’re usually faster than him and sometimes he complains so you just shut him up by scooping him in his arms and holding him by the waist with one hand before web-slinging your way to the location where the criminal gang is as he huffed. From afar at times, it looks like a grown ass man being baby carried or held like a big dog by some spider person across the high buildings, which he gets a little flustered over.
Regardless, Jason still loves you. Just don’t shoot the webs everywhere- <3
Tim Drake
He’s fascinated by you, how your webs work and how you can stick on walls with just your fingertips.
Tim might ask a lot of questions about your anatomy and what your spider body can do which sometimes annoy you but he’s just so curious he can’t help it. Genuinely.
Another one who you scare the shit out of with you surprising him by hanging upside down and popping your head down to face his out of no where, but he’s not like Jason who reacts very… dramatically, he’ll just recover from shock to contort into a pout and maybe gently flick your forehead to tell you to knock it off, although he knows you won’t.
Might be a sap for that upside down kiss where you kiss him upside down and all because of course he would be-
Tim loves asking you to use your web fluid for practically everything now. “Hey, s/o? Could you use your web fluid to stick this circuit board in here?” “S/o could you grab the remote with your web? Pleaseeeee?” “S/o, I kinda need your web fluid to close up the hole in my pants-” sometimes you gotta tell him that’s not gonna work sometimes, and those pants will look weird if you do that-
Overall, Tim loves his whacky, loveable spider s/o. <3
Damian Wayne
Also like Jason, he found you annoying. But this guy is hard in denial before he admits he even likes you.
Damian, at first, keep scowling at how annoying you can be with your web-slinging for fun and not for patrol, and getting web strings all over his suit after patrol from an intense fight against the criminal gang you two were assigned to take down. Now, he still scowls but with a blush and his heart skipping a beat because he can’t deny how cute you are even if you’re an annoying lil shi- (or maybe you ain’t little but you get the point).
Damian will tolerate you swinging about, although he isn’t scared when you hang upside down to spook him a bit because you literally can’t, his god-like sense of instincts would immediately pick up on you without even needing to turn to face you. Sometimes you joke with him that he has spidey-senses to which he rolls his eyes casually.
He won’t say it out loud, but he thinks you’re a pretty impressive fighter and you kinda remind him of Dick but you’re still unique. He just make sure your web fluids don’t go all over the place that you make a mess of the evidence for the police.
Overall, a tsundere for his spider s/o. <3
Reblogs help! ^^
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cinnamostar · 3 months
Text
four dates to fall in love
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part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five (coming soon).
pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader
summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?
wc : 2.7k
cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability
a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!
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“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.
You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”
“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”
You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”
“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”
“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”
“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”
Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”
He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”
“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”
“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.
“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”
He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”
You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”
“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”
“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”
“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”
“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”
“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You’ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”
You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”
“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”
“I’ll believe you just this once!”
“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”
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It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.
Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.
A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.
You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.
“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.
“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”
Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”
“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”
“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.
You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”
He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.
“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.” 
“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”
“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.
Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case. 
The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both. 
“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. 
“It does, right? Let’s eat!”
Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”
“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”
“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.
“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.
Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.
“I’m sorry.”
Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”
He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself. 
“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.
He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”
His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”
It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.
“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”
The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.
“Really, I mean it.”
“I missed it too.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba taglist cut off at 20 people :)
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goblinontour · 4 months
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Santa Baby
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some christmas fun with your husband after the kids go to sleep
warnings: husband!dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, roleplay (kinda?), body insecurity (a bit)
word count: 2.3k
it was the first christmas you would be spending alone as a family and it was already a big mess. your two kids had been going crazy for the last few days about how they can’t wait to see santa, to meet him. and you couldn’t break it to them that santa wasn’t real, obviously, they were still little.
but it was too late to hire someone to come dressed as santa, it was already christmas eve. the only solution you could come up with was for your husband to dress as santa. he was reluctant at first saying they would know it’s him but you begged him and he agreed, eventually. he spent god knows how long until he finally found an open store that had a costume and he was getting a bit excited now, couldn’t wait to see how the little ones’ faces would light up.
your house was decorated like one you’d see in movies. you were a sucker for christmas and loved to place all the lights all over the house and this time the babies were old enough to participate in decorating the christmas tree. alex wasn’t the biggest fan, but he loved seeing you all happy from those silly things, and his heart was full with joy watching the little angels you two created, your family finally complete. well, maybe not fully, you continued to beg him to get a cat but he was putting it off saying he’s ’allergic’. liar. you know he’ll cave soon enough.
so time for santa to come was here, you brought the kids to the living room and they went nuts saying they can’t believe santa’s there for them and that he’s real. you were struggling so much not to laugh at alex all dressed up with the cheapest looking white beard on his face and a pillow stuffed under that to make it all the more accurate, even though he had a bit of a belly himself, being off from touring left a mark on his body, the once lean stomach he had now soft and squishy. he got insecure about it sometimes, but you assured him that you don’t mind it at all, making sure to tell him you fucking love it. it was so nice to lie on him and feel him so plump.
it went down perfectly after all, your heart melting as you watched him try to change his voice to make fantasy come true. they did ask where daddy was but you fooled them saying he was tired and already asleep, waiting till the morning to open santa’s gifts. and they were too young to question it. they agreed on opening the presents in the morning with daddy there as well, but they were happy they met santa.
soon enough they grew tired and you put them to bed, reading a little christmas bedtime story, and you caught them dozing off after only a few minutes, before they could hear the end of it. you gave them both a kiss goodnight and went downstairs to your husband to spend the rest of the evening together.
he’d removed the pillow from under his top and taken off the fake beard, but now he was scratching his face desperately.
“al stop it!” you told him off.
“what?!” he questioned, looking annoyed and irritated.
“you’ll give yourself an ugly rash if you keep scratching like that.” you said to him, not wanting to hear him complain about the marks later.
“it’s fucking itchy. ‘s your fault for making me do this.” he complained, pointing at his costume, but you knew he didn’t truly mean it.
“shut up. i know you loved it.”
“of course i did. just because i love the kids” he confessed “and you” he added, making sure you know it. “come here baby” calling out for you and putting his hand out for you to grab, and once you did he quickly pulled you onto his lap, taking you by surprise with how eager he was to hold you. and he grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him.
“now, why don’t you tell santa…have you been a good girl?” he said in a low tone, leaning down to kiss you softly, but quickly deepening it by grabbing your jaw and angling better towards him so he could slip his tongue into your mouth, dancing with yours in perfect sync. his mood was now vastly different to how he just acted a few minutes before.
“alexxx, what’s gotten into you?” you giggled as he started kissing down your neck, his own stubble ticking you and his hands slipped under your pyjama shirt, rubbing up and down your side.
“you won’t get a present if you’re not a good girl, answer me.” he pushed, nudging his nose into the crook of your neck, loving having you so close, taking in your scent. he said it was even better than the baby skin scent that you both got addicted to aftee having your first little one.
“yes, i was indeed a good girl this year, don’t you know it already?” you played into the little game he started.
“i don’t in fact. and i don’t believe you. why don’t you prove yourself?” you knew what he was getting at, you could feel him growing hard under you even through that thick costume. you moved so you get into a position where you could feel him better, and you started grinding your ass into his growing erection, evoking a grunt from him.
“good girls don’t tease” he warned, grabbing your face again, slapping it playfully a few times, very soft.
you moved, got up in front of him and stripped, taking off your clothes in the most seductive way you could, although you were wearing some christmas patterned pyjamas, and it was a bit silly. but you tried your best and knew he still loved you and would take you regardless of what you were wearing. you turned around so your back was facing him and you put your ass out, wiggling it for him and looking at him over your shoulder, smirking once you noticed the tent in his pants.
“i said no teasing baby.” he grabbed you by your hips and pushed you down on him again. he was fully hard, you could feel him perfectly as your bare cunt was rubbing on his dick over his pants.
by now you yourself were aching for it, wet in anticipation, and you knew those pants were already ruined by your juices dripping onto them.
he started grinding his hips and one of his hands went to play with your breast, kneading it in his palm and pinching your nipple every now and then.
roles have switched, he was now teasing you by also bringing his hand down between your legs, his fingers ghosting over your wet pussy, and he started by gathering the arousal from your hole, bringing it up to your clit and rubbing gentle circles that were simply not enough. you were whining and in painful need for more.
“please alex…need you.” you cried out
“what do you need darling?” fucking hell. he was going to make you beg for it, his fingers teasing your hole now, only the very tips slipping in and you moaned as he bit down on your neck, in that spot that made you go crazy for him.
“you baby please. your girl needs your cock now.”
“my girl mhmm…that’s right.” he hummed, pleased with how much you grew to need him so quickly. “then you better be a good girl and take it nice and deep, yeah?”
“yes, i promise.” you said before he even got a chance to finish his sentence, so eager. you needed him right now.
he moved his hand from your breast, snaking it around your waist to hold you tight in place, his other one leaving your pussy. he slipped it between your bodies, going under you, grabbing your ass and lifting you up just a bit so he could push his pants down, together with his underwear, leaving them to fall down to his ankles and rest there, not bothering to slip them off completely with his feet.
he took a hold of his hard cock, brushing the aching tip with his thumb, spreading the precum gathered there down his length, pumping himself a few times before lining it up with your entrance. he played with you once more, holding you so tight that you couldn’t just sink down on him, teasing your empty hole by pushing in just the tip, wanting to hear you beg for it again.
“al fuck me already, this is torture.” you complained to him, you needed him so fucking bad.
“ask nicely…how a truly good girl would say it.”
“santa baby, please fuck me now, please i need you inside me-“
before you could continue to beg him further, and you would’ve, he took a hold of your hips and lowered you down on his cock, both of you moaning in sink at the way it felt. you because of how good he felt finally being inside you, and him because of how your perfect hole took him in, moulded to him, forever just for him.
you started to grind on him, rolling your hips, loving the way he filled you up, but apparently it wasn’t enough for him. he held you by the hips again and started bucking his hips up, and you met his thrust by moving with him. he was so desperate, grunts leaving his throat continuously, combining in a lovely way with your own moans and whimpers. and god how much did the sound of his belly slapping your ass with each one of his hard thrusts turn you on and drive you crazy for him.
but he suddenly stopped and grunted as if defeated and disappointed, and you didn’t know what happened.
“what’s wrong alex?” you questioned, genuinely confused.
“‘s not deep enough. not like it used to, my big fucking belly’s in the way.” he complained, and you looked back at him over your shoulder only to see his face adorned by that little pout he does. he was like a kid mad at his parents cause he couldn’t eat candy before bed. you couldn’t help but laugh softly at how truly sad he looked.
“alex your belly’s so fucking hot stop complaining and fuck me.” you said to him, it hurt you to see him upset over that, but right now you really needed him to fuck you. “is it not good for you?”
“no, it is, but i was worried about you…’s not like it used to, do you even like it?”
“oh baby…you fuck me so good and i love your belly, i’m not just saying it please believe me now” you assured him.
“okay love, fuck you good right?” he seemed back into it, leaving his insecurities out of it for now.
“mhm, so good, you always do” you continued.
he started fucking into you again, this time slow and as deep as he could, he knew you loved it slow and honestly he was tired, the thick costume making him feel too hot.
it was absolutely delicious like that, how you would feel his plump fat head rubbing inside and hitting that spot that made you see stars just perfectly, despite what he said about it ‘not being deep enough’. he was just stupid.
his hand on your waist went to your mouth momentarily. “spit on ‘em baby, get them nice and wet.” he demanded, and you complied instantly, lowering your head to suck on the fingers he put up first, rubbing your tongue along them, tasting yourself from earlier. he slipped them out and you spit on them like he asked. he licked his lips and bit down on the bottom one as he felt your spit running down his fingers. he then brought them back down to rub your clit again, circling it just perfectly, your spit making them slip around just right on the sensitive nub.
you were so close, so was he, you could tell from how he was panting heavily as he continued to fuck into you, biting down on your naked shoulder harshly, making you hiss from the pain but the pleasure drowned it out, far greater than the temporary burn on your skin.
the moment his fingers pushed on your clit just right and he hit that spot deep inside you at the same time was it for you. you came all over his cock and he continued to push you through your orgasm, not giving up his movements on your clit, though his hips were faltering from how you were squeezing his cock so tightly. he fell apart not long after, your still sensitive and pulsating pussy milking him as he came, his warm cum deep inside you filling you up, coating and soothing your used hole.
he laid back on the chair, trying desperately to catch his breath, and you collapsed over him instantly, too fucked out to hold yourself up, his now softening cock still buried inside you.
“wait a second honey, just-“ he pushed you off him so he could take the dumb costume top off once and for all. “don’t know why the fuck i kept that on.” he laughed.
“well, now i can say i fucked santa, right?” you joked, pressing your back against his bare chest, loving the soft sweaty skin sticking to your back.
“that’s right baby” kissing the side of your face and rubbing his face against yours.
“it tickles stop ittt.” you tried to squirm away from his stubbly face but he hugged you tight so you couldn’t get away.
“i love you fucking so much, my girl…my wife…still can’t believe how lucky i got” he confessed.
“i love you forevermore.”
a/n: merry christmas i guess! i literally wrote this impulsively at the christmas family dinner…yeah. enjoy!
tags: @4chaos @picturezonthewall @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @whitepontiac @ohladymoon @rentsturner
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f1goat · 1 year
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mistake(s) x lando norris + part one
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In which you keep making the same mistake over and over again by fucking the boy you hate the most.
masterlist - playlist
warnings: a lot of smut but with a plot, 18+ | english is not my first language fem!verstappen reader x lando norris
“You only have to tell me to fuck off and I will go away.”
You let out a soft whimper. How did you end up in this situation? His hands are all over you. Weren’t you screaming at him only a few minutes ago? You try to remember how you ended up pressed up against a wall in a wardrobe with him hovering over you. In the mean time, he’s still waiting for you to say anything. His words are playing on repeat in your mind. You should tell him to fuck off, but somehow you can’t find the words. Is it a sin that you want this? 
There’s no one who you dislike more then your brothers friend. He is the most annoying person that you know. If you need to summaries the reasons that you dislike him this much, it’s easy for you. You don’t know anyone else who acts as spoilt as he does, and you’re quite familiar in the formula one world where almost everyone is pretty spoiled. It’s not only that, because of his spoiled mindset he thinks he can have everything and everyone. He has made it clear that you’re one of the persons on his list. Next to a thousand other girls probably. It’s not only his spoiled behavior, it’s also how he seems so out of this world. He doesn’t see the importance of all the studying you do. You should just find a rich husband, according to him. And next to that he is a massive player. It annoys you how every girl wants his attention. It annoys you even more that he fucks them all. Not one can get a call back after that. And lastly, he’s just a dick. You don’t know why your brother is friends with him. You have no clue. The boy is an absolute dick towards almost everyone. He’s rude and ungrateful. 
But still, in some weird way you are closely against him right now. 
How did you end up in this situation? You remember an argument with him about the way he treats girls. He was bragging about the way he treated some girls lately. You were perplexed, you’re sitting in the middle of a restaurant with him and your brother and this is what he’s talking about. When he told you and your brother about the girls that he won’t call back ever again, you lost it. You started an argument with him. 
But it wasn’t that that caused you to end up with him in a wardrobe room. 
Later that night you were standing in a nightclub with him and your brother. He was flirting with another girl. It was you that warned her to find someone else. You even made up lies about him being awful at sex. He got mad at you after the girl left and he heard why. 
That’s kinda how you ended up here with him now that you think of it. 
He took you to some place more quiet to argue with you about it. At first you were just screaming at each other. You told him all about his awful behavior to those girls. He told you that they wanted it. Now that you think of it, you don’t know what you have said anymore. But you do know that he gotten mad, so you probably went too far. Normally he doesn’t get mad at you. He will just make fun of you most of the time. Did the frustration cause you to end up like this with him? You remember that he pressed his lips against you at one point. It didn’t took you long to reply to his move. He pushed you inside the wardrobe room and against the wall. In only a few seconds the two of you were making out properly.
“Do you want me to go?” He asks you again. 
He removes his hand from your body. His hand that was earlier kneading your ass is next to his side again. You whimper. Is it bad that you want to continue? You shake your head as an answer.
“Use your words baby,” he tells you. 
“I don’t want you to go,” you confess. It almost pains you to tell him that, but you don’t want him to leave when you’re feeling like this because of him. You stomach is tightened up, you feel all flustered and to be honest you’re getting aroused because of the situation. You want nothing more then that he does anything about that. 
He is quick to reconnect his hands to your body. This time more hurried. He lifts up your skirt, quickly gaining access to your more private parts. The only thing in his way is your string now. He softly slides his fingers around your string. Not quite touching the part you want him to, but you still let out a soft moan because of the contact. He smirks when he hears you moan. Then he moves aside your underwear. Slowly he lets his finger slide through your slit. It’s not hard to miss how wet you are. He lets one of his fingers enter you. Slowly he pumps it in and out of you. You let out another moan. You need more. 
“So fucking wet for me,” he tells you with the same smirk as before, “Did I cause that babygirl?” 
You don’t want to answer his question. You don’t want to give him that enjoyment. And to be honest, you don’t know if you can lie right now. It is him that caused you to get this wet. Instead of answering his question, you press your lips against his. You feel how he still smirks. It annoys you. You open your mouth a bit, he’s quick to part his lips as well. His tongue slides in to your mouth for the second time this night. Who would have thought that your night would go like this? 
He lets another finger enter your body. He fastens his pace. You disconnect your lips from his to let out another moan. It’s unfair that he can make you feel like this. His thumb suddenly touches your clit. You feel how he circles around it a few times before properly giving your clit his attention as well. If he continues with this for a bit longer, you’re sure that you’ll come undone in a bit. You already feel your walls clenching. Your orgasm is reaching. 
When you feel the familiar waves almost hitting over you, he removes his fingers from you. You let out a whimper. You look at him. Why did he do that? 
“You’re orgasming on my cock,” he tells you. You see how he puts his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean from your juices right in front of you. He unzips his pants and is quick to push them down together with his underwear. You can’t stop looking at him. He takes you into his arms and lifts you up a bit. You reply quickly by putting your legs around his body. 
“Tell me you want this,” he tells you, “Tell me that you want me to fuck you.”
“I want this,” you repeat his words. 
He shakes his head, “Not good enough. What do you want?” 
“I want..” You almost can’t say it, maybe if you think about him being someone else you can manage to say the words. It’s not like you don’t want this with him, it’s just that it’s him that causes you to feel like this. “I want you to fuck me,” you tell him. 
“Add my name,” he goes on, “Tell me who do you want to fuck you?”
You can’t believe that you’re playing this game with him. But you’re craving his touch. You want your release after what he just did to you. 
“I want you to fuck me Lando,” you eventually tell him. 
Lando smirks. He lines up his dick against the entrance of you. Before you can think twice about what you’re going to do, he is already entering you. You let out a loud moan. You feel how Lando is thrusting in and out of you with a fast pace. His dick is hitting all the right spots. Fuck, this feels good. 
“You’re so fucking tight around my cock,” he groans. 
You don’t reply to him. If you think about it, you’re pretty sure everyone will feel tight around his cock. You have never felt this fulled up before. Lando keeps thrusting in and out of you. He’s increasing his pace, going even faster then before. 
“You look so good like this,” Lando tells you. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, “I’m going to cum.” 
Lando softly slaps your ass. He decreases his pace. You let out a hopeless whimper. You try to mimic his moves from before. 
“Ask me,” he grunts, “or you won’t cum.”
You let out a chuckle, “You want me to ask you for permission?” He must be joking. Right? Lando his look tells you otherwise. He’s looking deadly serious. This is a joke. 
“Yes,” he states. 
“Fuck, I’m not doing that,” you tell him annoyed. 
Lando decreases his pace even more. You feel your orgasm fading away from you for the second time this night. You are getting more frustrated by the second. 
“Then you won’t cum,” Lando tells you. 
You let out a frustrated sigh. You doubt about your next action. There’s nothing more right know that you want then to cum. Your body is aching for it. But still, you don’t want to ask Lando for permission. 
“I’m waiting babygirl,” Lando continues. 
You look at him with big eyes. Then you make your decision. Fuck it. You have thrown away every bit of your dignity by fucking him, it’s not like this will make it worse. You just want to cum right now. 
“Can I?” You ask Lando.
“Can you what?” Lando replies quickly. 
“Can I cum?” 
“I think I miss something.”
“Please Lando,” you whimper, “Can you please make me cum?” No way that you just begged Lando Norris for your orgasm. This is the worst. Lando shows you another smirk, he is quick to increase his pace again. He’s fucking you even harder then before. His thumb has find it’s way back to your clit. You let out multiple moans. 
“Cum for me,” Lando tells you after a minute or so. You feel the familiar waves finally washing over your body. It’s long ago since you have had an orgasm this intense. Maybe you don’t even had one like this before. Lando is quick to follow you, also experiencing his orgasm. 
Only a few minutes later your standing awkwardly in front of Lando. What did just happen? What did you just do? Lando looks at you with a devious grin. He’s enjoying this. Of course he is. 
“This was a mistake,” you tell him. 
“Can’t wait for the next time you make this mistake,” Lando is quick to answer.
“You don’t fuck the same girl twice,” you bite back. 
“Oh babygirl, you’re already an exception.” 
“Don’t count on it,” you tell him annoyed, “This will never happen again.” 
+++
“Oh fuck off,” you tell Lando annoyed. He has been interrupting your study session multiple times now. It has been a week since your mistake of fucking with him. You have seen him a couple times after that, but neither of you talked about what happened. Something you’re glad about. It was a stupid mistake after all. Lando is walking inside of your room in the mean time. You think about calling your brother, Max, to take him away from you. Downstairs there are multiple friends of Max to play some games together. Lando had to be one of them of course. 
“What are you studying for?” Lando asks you. 
“My exams are coming up,” you explain annoyed, “so I need every bit of free time I have to study. So go away Lando. You’re distracting me.” 
“I just thought you could use a bit of relaxation,” Lando says with a smirk, “Isn’t that a thing during studying? Taking breaks to relax?” 
“Fuck off,” you tell him again. This time you stand up from your desk to show him you’re serious about it. Lando doesn’t walk away from you, instead he walks closer to you. You can almost feel his warm breath on your face because of how close he got to you. You let out an annoyed sigh. What is he doing? 
“Sure you can’t use a bit of relaxing?” Lando asks you again. 
“It’s not like you can give my any form of relaxation,” you tell Lando annoyed. 
You sit down on your bed, waiting for him to leave you alone again. Lando doesn’t leave. He takes place next to you on your bed, only to move to a position behind you a few seconds later. You almost jump from the bed when you feel Lando his hands touching your shoulders. He starts to massage your shoulders slowly. At first you want to tell him he needs to stop messing around, but then you realize that this actually feels good. You even feel some tension leaving your body when Lando keeps massaging you. 
Lando stays silent while massaging you. Maybe that’s even better, you think, if he starts to talk nonsense you will probably get annoyed again. 
You let out a soft relieved sound. Lando can’t help himself to smile a bit. He knew you wouldn’t say no anymore as soon as he started massaging you. Since Max started to complain about your tense mood from the last days, he saw the perfect opportunity to get close to you again. Since the time he fucked with you in that wardrobe room, he can’t stop thinking about you anymore. Every time he tried flirting with another girl, he could only think about you. Meaning is he pretty frustrated by now. 
After a bit of massaging you already feel a lot more relaxed. Then Lando his fingers get lower on your body. First he pulls you further on the bed, making sure you laying in a comfortable position. You look up at him, but you also don’t want to question him too much. You decide to just let it happen. Lando his hands are drawing forms on your legs. Each time he moves his hands up, he comes closer towards a certain spot between your legs. It doesn’t take long before you start to feel your cunt heating up. This time Lando his hands are closely next to it. It frustrates you how he is already making you feel all kind of things. You want more. Fuck. 
You buck up your hips a bit, hoping that Lando will get the hint. He is quick to look up to you. When you notice the eye contact with Lando you just show him a small nod. Maybe he will understand that you want him to do more? 
Lando is no stranger to this kind of messages. He knew what he was doing. He slowly pulls off your leggings. Leaving you laying in your shirt and your string. He traces his finger over your string, already feeling a wet spot. 
“You want me to help you relax?” Lando asks you with a soft voice. 
“Yes please,” you quickly reply. You’re not in the mood for games with him. You just want him to do something. 
Lando pulls of your string. He is quick to throw it next to the bed. He lowers himself on the bed, getting his face close to your pussy. Without any other warning he slowly licks your clit. You let out a moan from his sudden action. 
“You’ve to be quiet babygirl,” Lando tells you, “or do you want your brother and all his friends to hear the sounds you make for me?” 
Without waiting for your response, Lando continues his earlier movements. He moves his hand over to one of your boobs. He kneads it while focussing on eating you out in the mean time. His slow movements are replaced with fast, short licks against your clit. He uses his free hand to pump a finger inside of you. This time you can’t suppress another moan. It’s insane how good Lando makes you feel. 
“You look so pretty like this,” Lando murmurs, “all because of me.” 
Lando puts another finger inside of you, increasing his pace while finger fucking you. It’s getting too much for you quickly. You feel your orgasm reaching. Suddenly you remember the last time you wanted to cum. Do you need to say something to Lando? You’re not in the mood for him to take away your orgasm again. You really need it now. 
“Lan,” you say softly. Lando doesn’t stop his movements, but he does look up a bit to make eye contact with you. “I’m close,” you tell him. 
“You know what to do,” Lando tells you, he quickly continues to lick your clit again. 
“Can I please cum Lando?” You ask him. 
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “You’re such a good girl. Already asking me if you can cum just the second time. Cum for me baby.” 
It doesn’t take you long to cum after hearing Lando his words. You will never tell Lando what his words just did to you. You don’t even know how him calling you a good girl made you feel this good. 
“Y/N?” You hear your brother yelling through the door. Fuck. 
“Yeah, I’m changing, don’t get in,” you quickly tell Max.
“Have you seen Lando?” Max asks you. 
He should know you think. Lando has the same thought. He should know how much of Lando you just saw. 
“No,” you reply you Max his question. 
You quickly hear Max his footsteps moving away. Lando stands up from your bed. “That’s my cue to leave,” he tells you. You simply nod. Lando walks towards the door of your room. Before he opens it he turns back towards you. 
“Next time you can repay me the favor,” Lando tells you. 
“There won’t be a next time,” you reply. 
“Didn’t you also say that last time?” Lando asks you with a smirk. 
“This was just for myself,” you bite back. Lando chuckles, “I did enjoy it too baby. Finally a reason that I like your nerdy side.”
“It’s not nerdy,” you sigh, “studying is pretty normal for most people.”
“Just marry rich,” Lando tells you, “It’s much easier then studying anyways.”
There he is once again. The boy that always annoys you. You let out a sigh. Lando laughs and quickly walks away from your room. 
+++
unknown: when are you returning the favor I gave you earlier today?
You sigh at your phone. It doesn’t even take you a second to figure out who texted you. Of course it’s Lando. You save his number and start to type back a reply.
Y/N: how did you get my number?
Lando: Max ofc
Lando: are you going to answer my question?
Y/N: i’m not returning the favor
Y/N: i told you this was a mistake and it won’t happen again
Lando: you keep believing that, next time I’ll fuck that idea out of your head
+++
Next time didn’t take long. Lando has been spending the day with your brother once again. The both of them were at the apartment where you brother and you live in Monaco. Or better said, where your brother lives with his girlfriend and stepdaughter while you crash in the guest room for as long you’re still studying. Max just left to pick up Kelly and some food, meaning you and Lando are left alone. The thought of being alone with Lando after what happened between you two makes you nervous. 
“So what about that favor?” Lando asks you, “We have some time to kill.”
“You’re the worst,” you scoff.
“Any better idea?” 
“Yes, I’m going to study,” you tell Lando. You grab your study book of the table and start to read it. Lando lets out a sigh. 
“What are you studying?” He asks you after a bit.
“Why do you care?” You reply. 
“I don’t,” Lando replies rudely. 
You scoff. “Then don’t ask,” you tell him coldly. 
“I really don’t get it,” Lando goes on, “You’re doing all this work for a degree when you’re already making enough money for the rest of your life with al the influencing you do online and with the model jobs you do sometimes. Why bother with the studying next to it?” 
“It’s nice to have a backup,” you tell Lando, “and my study matches with a part of it.”
“What are you studying?” Lando asks you again. 
“Marketing,” you tell Lando, “and everything that can come with it. Graphic design, digital marketing, writing SEO approved texts and other stuff like that.” 
“That actually sounds interesting,” Lando replies.
“You’re faking an interest so you can fuck me,” you accuse Lando. He lets out a laugh, “You’ve got me,” he tells you. 
“I actually hate you,” you sigh. 
Lando moves closer to you. He puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you a bit closer to himself as well. His sudden movement causes you to lean against him. You feel a shiver going over your body. Lando notices the effect he has on you, he smirks because of it. 
“And what is it that you hate about me?” He asks you. 
“You’re the most rude, annoying, spoiled and selfish person that I have ever met,” you are quick to reply to him. 
“But you don’t hate the way I can make you feel,” Lando tells you. 
“You don’t make me feel anything special,” you bite back. 
Lando lets out a low chuckle. You look annoyed at him. Of course you know that Lando does make you feel all kind of things. You don’t know if you hate him more or less for that. It’s confusing what he does to your body. Just like now, his hand is laying on your ass and you are waiting for him to do anything. You start to crave his touch. This can’t be good. 
“Keep telling yourself that babygirl,” he says, “maybe you’ll even believe your own lie someday.” 
“Pff,” you sigh annoyed, “You’re the one that keeps coming back to me. I’d say that you’re addicted to the way I make you feel.” 
“I don’t know,” Lando replies, “You didn’t show me yet. But to be honest, you can’t be that good.” 
Lando his words are frustrating you. What does he mean with that? Is he doubting your abilities? You’ll show him what you got. Quickly you take a look at your phone for the time, you don’t want Max to walk in on you and Lando. You realize that you have more then enough time. You lay your hand on Lando his crotch, palming him softly through his pants. 
“I bet I could make you cum in your pants,” you tell Lando. 
“Hm, I bet you can’t even make me cum while blowing me,” Lando replies. 
Lando knows what he is doing. Of course he knows that you can make him cum in no time. That’s exactly what he wants right now. He craves your touch and he craves an orgasm caused by you even more right now. After not fucking other girls for a week or so, he needs to find his release. He knows that you bite when he doubts you. So that’s exactly why he acts like he thinks your bad at it. He knows you’ll want to prove yourself. And that hand that is laying on his crotch, is telling him that his plan works. 
You zip down Lando his pants. Together with his boxers you pull them down. You look at your wrist for a hair tie, but you notice that there isn’t anyone. Without further thinking you grab Lando his hand, you let him grab your hair together.
“Hold my hair,” you tell him. Lando is quick to oblige, he wraps his hand tightly around your hair. 
You tease Lando a bit at first. Slowly you lick around his shaft before putting it inside your mouth. When you start to suck on his dick, Lando is quick to let out a moan. You look up at him, raising one of your eyebrows. This will be even easier then you already thought. Slowly you bob your head up and down, still sucking in the mean time. 
Lando lets out another moan. Fuck, he knew it would be good but he didn’t expect this. He has never felt this before. He feels desperate for you. His eyes can’t stop focusing on you. He takes in all your beauty while you’re blowing him. It’s insane how good it feels for him. He had blowjobs before, many blowjobs even, but none of them made him feel like this. Normally he has himself in control, knowing how to hold on his orgasm but this time he can’t focus on anything else then you. 
You increase your pace. In the mean time you feel Lando his grip on your hair getting even tighter. When you look up, you directly make eye contact with him. You let his dick slide out of your mouth, quickly putting your hand around it. While stroking him, you don’t stop looking at him as well. Who knew you had this much impact on him with a few simple actions. 
“Fuck,” Lando mutters when you put your other hand on his balls. You softly knead them. 
Lando his dick is getting even harder in your hand. You notice Lando his irregular breaths. He’s about to cum. You decide to stop your actions. You let go of his dick and stand up. 
“I don’t think you want to cum, right? I mean you were pretty sure that I couldn’t let you cum,” you tell Lando with the most innocent smile you can manage. 
Lando grunts. Of course you knew what he was doing. You’re not stupid. He thought he was smart by playing a little mind trick on you, as if you wouldn’t notice. This is his karma. 
“Next time, ask nicely instead of trying to play mind tricks,” you say. 
You hear the whimper Lando lets out. He looks frustrated at you. “I don’t ask things nicely,” he groans annoyed, “Get back on your knees and finish what you started.” 
“No,” you simply say. 
“Fuck Y/N,” Lando replies, “you’re not doing this to me.”
You let out a chuckle. “Two can play this game Lando,” you tell him with a small smile.
Lando is quick to grab your hips. He pulls you onto the couch. You don’t say anything, this is exactly what you wanted. Lando lifts your dress up and moves your string aside. After that he is quick to press his dick inside of you. When you feel all fulled up, you let out a moan. 
“We both know who plays this game better,” Lando grunts while thrusting in and out you. 
“I guess that would be me,” you tell Lando sweetly. 
Lando chuckles. You let out a moan while he thrust even deeper inside of you. “Why would that be you babygirl?”
“Because I wanted to be fucked instead of giving you your orgasm while blowing you.” 
“Fuck,” Lando groans, “This time you win.” 
“There won’t be another time,” you tell Lando. 
Lando increases his pace. He feels his orgasm getting closer. His thumb is drawing figures on your clitoris. He listens to the way you moan. 
“Keep telling yourself that,” he whispers in your ear, “I’ll see you the next time.”
Let me know what you think of this! I'm loving all the reactions on my earlier posts &lt;3
part two
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