#maybe it was the makeup my friend volunteered to put on me but. What was that out of nowhere they were even prettier than i am ngl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hongcherry · 7 months

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pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 6 (m)

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst, smut; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + the big talk 🫣, mentions of slut-shaming and degradation (not in bed) -> plz lmk if im missing any! | [Smut warnings] protected sex, oral (f.), multiple orgasms, fingering, cum play, cum swallowing

🍒 WC: 12.6k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 😻

🍒 Author’s Note: It's always so exciting and saddening when a series ends! It's been over a month since this series started! Special appreciation and thanks to those who have given me feedback and/or were here from the beginning! I really enjoy reading your reactions and analysis!

As I said before, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so this fic holds a special place in my heart for that reason alone. Anyway, thank you again (no this won't be the last time I say it!). Please enjoy the last chapter of "pretty please (stay with me)" 🥹❣️

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // the end

You haven’t stood still in the past hour—buzzing around to everyone in the dressing room to make sure everything is being executed correctly. From last-minute wardrobe alterations to doing makeup and hair touches, you’ve been moving non-stop. Overseeing a fashion show is not easy, or maybe you’re just overthinking the tiniest details.

You aren’t getting a second chance at this, so you want to reduce the possibility of mistakes.

“Everything looks great; take a rest,” Mingyu tells you gently.

You glance up from your clipboard, having printed your to-do list and notes prior. Mingyu stands next to you with a kind smile. Your eyes scan him briefly. You reach forward to fix his outfit for the nth time, but he carefully grabs your wrists.

“It looks fine,” he chuckles.

“Exactly. It looks fine. I need it to be perfect,” you huff.

“You have twenty minutes before the show starts. Let’s go get some fresh air,” he says.

Despite your several headshakes, Mingyu pulls you out of the dressing room and toward the lobby.

“…doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my text or calls. I’d figure you’d be here.”

“We should talk another time.”

You strain your hearing when the voices register in your head. Mingyu glances at you and slows in his steps. From how clear their voices are, you figure Hajun and Seungcheol are around the corner.

“Let’s go out the other way,” Mingyu says, stepping in the other direction. You put a hand on his arm to stop him. You’re too curious to not eavesdrop.

“I’ll be quick,” you hear Hajun say.

Seungcheol sighs. “I already told you over the phone that I didn’t want to be around you when you’re being disrespectful.”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I’m sorry I said all those things to her. I just…I just wanted to look out for you.”

You have no doubt who she’s talking about. If she wants to apologize, she should apologize to you.

“I appreciate the thought, but I’m fine. She’s fine. She’s not as bad as you think,” Seungcheol replies.

“I think you’re just too kind, Cheollie,” she says. “She’s not very nice. She’s not been a good influence on you.”

“That grade wasn’t because of her,” he reasons as if he knows what she’s referring to.

Your eyebrows scrunch at that. What is he talking about? What grade?

“No? Then why have you been so distracted in class? Or why do you show up exhausted?”

“Those have all been my choices, though,” Seungcheol argues.

“Perhaps, but does she know the world doesn’t revolve around her? She should be considerate and stop being so clingy,” Hajun explains.

Maybe if you viewed her neutrally, you would think she genuinely has his best interest at heart. But with how she’s treated you, it’s difficult to believe that.

Mingyu tugs on your arm gently.

“You have ten minutes until showtime,” he whispers in your ear.

You close your eyes, listening to Hajun give more reasons for why you aren’t fit for Seungcheol. You want to stay and hear it all. You want to know if he will keep defending you. However, you’re not about to let all your hard work go to waste.

You nod, tearing yourself away and striding back to the room. You roll your shoulders back, head held high as you channel your attention on doing another round of adjustments.

When it’s three minutes until the show, you discreetly peep your head around the curtains. The theatre is packed, mostly with faces you don’t know. Though on one side, you can see your dad and sister. On the other side, are your new friends. Though the one person you are hoping to see isn’t there.

Seungcheol’s seat is empty.

You know he’s here. You hate how your mind starts forming negative thoughts. Perhaps Hajun has succeeded in making him hate you. Maybe he left with her.

You move away from the curtains and stare at the floor. There’s a tightening in your chest that’s a painful discomfort. After the argument, you were prepared not to see him here. Yet after the brief conversation and learning he had still gotten tickets, hope had risen. Even if it was just a sliver, you wanted to believe you could go back to where you were. Part of you even wished you were blissfully ignorant of his assumptions of you—even though they’re wrong and a “joke” to him.

You have the sudden urge to stand him up tomorrow. You don’t want to see him knowing he was here for you but left with her. However, you need to stop running away. You know you will be happier in the future if you have closure.

Before you can take another glance at the audience, Dr. Lim’s voice sounds.

“Alright, everyone, you’ve all been working hard this semester, and I’m very proud of you all,” he starts, “Remember, you’ll all give a quick introduction of your collection, and then once all your models have walked, you’ll give a final statement.”

You feel a hand on your arm. You turn to see Dae beside you. She’s smiling at you, wiggling your arm as if to say, “We did it!”

You offer a small one, trying to focus on the show again. Too much is going through your mind, and you need to narrow it down.

“You look nervous,” Dae whispers in your ear while Dr. Lim keeps speaking.

“I am, a little,” you answer.

“Don’t worry, I am too. At least we’re done, though. Well, we will be in a few hours,” she giggles.

“Okay, everyone is free to watch from anywhere backstage except for the person on deck. If you’re next, you must be here and ready to go. Everyone ready?”

You nod along with the rest of your class.

“Great, George, you’re first. Siwon, you’re on deck. Don’t forget your order, everyone!”

With that, people start moving. Dae guides you to a corner backstage that has a decent view. It’s angled so you can see your family more than your friends. You crane your neck to check the seats again. This time, two seats are missing. Jeonghan isn’t there anymore. Odd.

“Good evening, all,” Dr. Lim greets as he walks onto the stage. There’s faint music playing in the background, and your heart starts to race knowing there’s no going back now.

“Thank you for coming to support our designers. I am eager to show you the student’s work. Please keep in mind that each student was in charge of their theme, hair, makeup, music, lighting, promotion, and of course, their clothes,” he explains.

“There won’t be an intermission as the show is rather short, so if you need to go, please exit quietly. With that, also please turn off your cellular devices. Now that I’ve rambled long enough, let’s get started!”

The audience claps as the lights dim. You and Dae watch your peers conduct their shows, both commenting on them quietly every so often. The themes range from specific colors, to movies, to holidays. Although you don’t like most of your classmates, it’s nice to see the variety of art being presented. Soon, it’s yours and Dae’s turn. You wish each other good luck before tending to your models.

You’re on deck, going down the line of your models as you listen to Dae’s introduction.

“Hello everyone, I’m Dae, and my collection is titled, ‘Limitless’.”

You smile when you hear a few familiar hollers. You’re glad she befriended all your new friends too.

“My theme is space as I want to learn and grow endlessly. Although our space is dark, I want to be one of the stars that shine.”

Dae’s voice fades out as you continue your inspection.

“Take deep breaths,” Mingyu says when you approach him. You reach up and shift a few pieces of his outfit. He stands still as you do so.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “No funny business out there, okay?”

Mingyu smiles. “Of course. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Good, because I know where you live,” you threaten. It’s meant to be told jokingly, but you both know you’re serious.

“Always so charming,” he laughs.

“So I’ve been told,” you smile and pat his chest. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, Mingyu.”

“I could never say no to showing off my handsome features,” he replies, tilting his chin up with confidence.

“Maybe I should have asked Jeonghan instead,” you tease.

Mingyu scoffs playfully, opening his mouth to reply but stops when Dr. Lim appears.

“Yn, ready?”

You face him and nod. “I’m good to go.”

“Excellent,” he pauses, “It was nice having you in class again. I’m wishing you a bright future. You have talent, and I’m excited to see what you do with it.”

“Thank you, Dr. Lim,” you reply. He gives you a grin before leaving again.

Mingyu’s thumbs raise in encouragement when you glance at him. The small smile you offer fails to hide your nervousness.

“People are going to love your designs,” Mingyu reassures. “Now, go get yourself ready.”

“R-right,” you say.

You make your way to the front of your model’s line as you hear Dae give her ending speech. You want to listen to what she’s saying, but you’re too anxious. You glance at yourself in the mirror that is situated backstage, quickly adjusting the outfit you made yourself.

It’s all red—not because of Seungcheol, you tell yourself, but because you needed to match the fabric Jeonghan had bought you—with the top being covered in rhinestones and fading out. The dress hugs your torso and then flares into a flowy bottom with a slit. Over your neck and shoulder blades is red lace that is attached to the fabric Jeonghan got you, giving you a cape that pools on the floor a little. The space between your dress and the cape shows enough skin to be sexy but not overly so to be inappropriate for a school event.

Although the fabric was meant to be used for one of your model’s outfits, it wasn’t the blue you wanted, and you had already switched your design after Tori took the original from you. You had already planned to make your own dress for the event but hadn’t decided on the design. Since you didn’t want Jeonghan’s fabric to go to waste, you created a design based on it—using your original idea meant for the blue fabric but tweaking it.

Applause erupts, cueing you that you are next. Although you aren’t able to watch Dae’s show, you know Seoah is recording, upon your request, so you can watch it later.

Dae walks backstage as Dr. Lim goes to introduce you.

Dae is beaming, eyes crinkling and mouth open in utter happiness. She goes to you and wraps her arms around you.

“What a rush! That was so fun,” she gushes. “You’re going to do great.”

You return the hug quickly. Her energy bleeds into yours, and your heart races with nervousness. After years of being a spectator of the show, it’s finally your turn to be a participant. You feel all your years at the university have led to this moment.

“Please welcome Yn,” Dr. Lim says.

Dae gives you an encouraging pat on the back before she steps away. You take a moment to inhale a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and stepping out onto the stage.

The stage lights are blinding, making it difficult to see out into the entire crowd. You take the mic from your professor and curl your fingers around the object a little tighter than you should. Your eyes dart across unfamiliar faces as your eyes try to adjust to the lights.

“Good evening. My name is Yn, and my collection is titled, ‘Pinwheel’,” you start, voice wavering to show how anxious you are. As you take a quick second to recollect yourself, your eyes snag on a face you’re keen to see.

Seungcheol.

He didn’t leave.

Normally, you would question why he took so long to be seated, but you’re too jittery with the show. You don’t have the energy. Rather you focus on his eyes. They watch you fondly. His hair is pushed from his face like he put some product in it. You feel honored he dressed up for you.

He tilts his head and stretches his lips into a reassuring smile. Although it makes your heart pump quicker, it also gives you the push you need to continue.

“You’ll see an array of colors and designs that represent the four elements—air, water, earth, and fire. I wanted to try different styles that still coordinated together in some way. I hope you all enjoy,” you continue.

The crowd applauds, and amongst the noise, you can make out a few hollers from your friends. It eases your nervousness as you walk off stage. The lights adjust, and the track Jihoon created begins to play.

You motion for the first model to begin walking. You stay in the same spot as your volunteers ascend the runway. You fall into a rhythm as you time your models. When it comes to Mingyu, you expect him to sneak in a joke. However, his face is set in stone and is serious. You smile softly and lightly touch his arm to signal him.

You glance beyond the curtain to watch him for a second. As Mingyu promised, he doesn’t do anything to ruin your show. If you didn’t know he was a photography major, you would suspect he was an actual model. A goofy part of your brain wonders if he practiced his walk in his apartment.

Two models left and then everyone will do one more walk. That’s all you have left. Despite the already short time of your portion of the show, it feels a lot shorter. Everything has been going well so far. No models slip, your outfits stay intact, and there aren't any technical difficulties.

You appear in front of the audience again as your models finish their last trip around the stage. Your models stay on the stage, allowing the audience to associate the designs with the designer.

“As you’ve heard many times tonight, thank you for coming. This project was challenging, but the reward was worth it. If you have any questions about my collection, please don’t hesitate to ask me after the show. Thank you,” you conclude, giving a bow.

Each clap from the audience chips away at the weight on your shoulders. You can breathe easier knowing that that is it. The project you’ve been waiting to do since before your freshman year has finally come and gone. And gone well nonetheless.

You watch as your friends and family stand, big smiles on all their faces. Although they all mean a lot to you, you can’t help but look for Seungcheol out of all of them.

He stands tall, hands clapping together, with a huge grin on his handsome face. His eyes shine with pride, and you can feel that familiar warmth spreading across your chest again. It feels like you’ve just given your first fashion show as a big-name designer, but in reality, it’s simply a senior project. Seungcheol makes it feel more than it is. And that makes you feel all the more confident.

There are only three more students after you. You and Dae go back to you where you were originally seated, this time accompanied by Mingyu—now dressed in his own clothes. As the show ends, all the students file onto the stage.

“It was a joy to witness the progression of the student’s works. Thank you for another successful show. Seniors, you should all be proud of your work,” Dr. Lim pauses to glance at you all. “Please enjoy the refreshments in the lobby. You’re welcome to mingle and network for at least another hour. Now, please give another round of applause for our talented students.”

The sound fills your chest with a bittersweet feeling as you take your final bow.

“Your designs were gorgeous!” Seoah exclaims when she finds you in the lobby. She runs into you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. Your father comes next, joining in a three-way embrace.

“You did amazing, sweetheart,” he compliments. Your heart is swelling from their kind words. They have seen some of your past designs, but this is different. Even though it’s a school production, it’s still the biggest fashion show you’ve ever been a part of.

“I need you to make me that green one! The one that looked like it was made of leaves and vines. That was my favorite. You get to keep your clothes, right?” Seoah speaks quickly in excitement.

You laugh softly, nodding. “I’m afraid family relations only grant you a five-percent discount.”

“What?” she huffs. “I should get it for free for being the best sister.”

“You’re my only sister,” you argue.

“Which makes me more special!”

“Alright, girls. We can arrange a business deal at home. I’m going to take Seoah to get some ice cream. We’ll see you later,” your father says. You give them each a last hug before waving them goodbye.

You don’t even get a minute break before you feel arms wrap around you.

“I told you you would do great!”

Soonyoung’s loud voice rings in your ear, causing you to flinch. He tears himself from you with a big smile. Your friends gather around in a semicircle, all showering you with praises and words of encouragement. However, like before, one face is missing from the crowd.

“Even though I just met you this semester, I’m proud of you,” Yejun says. You thank him before watching as he leaves to go to Dae. He’s more her friend than yours, but you’re still grateful for his words.

“Does Mingyu get to keep his outfit?” Vernon questions.

You shake your head.

“Good,” Seungkwan chimes in. “He doesn’t deserve such nice clothes.”

“Hey!” Mingyu gasps, offended.

“Excuse me?” an unfamiliar voice interrupts your crowd. All heads turn to see an older woman, dressed professionally. “Yn, right?”

You turn away from your friends to greet the stranger. “Yes, hello.”

“My name’s Park Quinn. I work for a local agency and wanted to give you my contact information. I loved your collection,” she says.

Your eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be great.”

You take the card she gives you.

“I don’t want to take time away from your friends, so please contact me whenever you can. We can try to arrange something if you’re interested.”

You nod, trying not to seem too enthusiastic and eager at the proposal.

“Of course. Thank you, Ms. Park.”

She smiles and then turns away. Before you can dive back into your friend’s bickering, which you can hear faintly in the background, more people come up to greet you. Many of whom you don’t know. Some are prospective students; others are more recruiters.

You’re talking to different people for what feels like ages before the crowd finally slows down. Your friends left a few minutes ago, telling you they’ll arrange a time you can all hang out.

You’re backstage to gather your belongings and clothes when there’s a soft knock on the open door.

“I’m almost done,” you announce, figuring it’s Dr. Lim coming to tell you to hurry so he can lock the theatre.

“Take your time, Cherry.”

Your hands pause in reaching for a garment bag, gaze whizzing to see the person.

Seungcheol stands in the doorway with a small bouquet of flowers. They’re a mix of reds, pinks, and greens. It’s beautiful.

Too nervous about the show earlier, you finally take in his attire. He’s wearing an all-black suit, the undershirt being a turtleneck. You saw his new hairstyle while on stage, but it still surprises you to see it up close.

He looks stunning.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, a little shocked to see him.

He smiles, walking farther into the room. “I wanted to give you these.”

He holds out the bouquet. You stare at it a little too long because Seungcheol starts to chuckle.

“Not the ones you like?” he teases. He begins to set them down on a nearby table, but you stop him. You take it in your free hand, the other occupied with other items.

“They’re pretty,” you reassure. “Thank you.”

He grins when you finally accept them. In exchange, he grabs your belongings from you. You tilt the flowers to your face, breathing in their fresh smell and grinning slightly.

“Your collection was incredible,” he says.

“You think so?” you hum, eyes glancing at the clothes which are hanging in bags.

“The best out there.”

You smile. “You sound a little biased, Seungcheol.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “but I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Silence fills the room as you both stare at each other. His eyes drift to your body. You feel a little shy, and the need to fill the silence grows. You want to ask what took him so long to come into the theatre, but that would mean you were actively looking for him. It would also mean Hajun would most likely be mentioned if he decided to go into detail. That topic could wait until tomorrow. You’re enjoying being able to talk to him like you used to, albeit a little more consciously.

“D-do you like it?” you ask in lieu.

Seungcheol’s eyes move back to yours.

“You made this?” he asks, gesturing to your dress.

You nod.

“You’re very talented,” he praises. “Though that was evident earlier… You look beautiful, Yn.”

Something about hearing your real name from his mouth has the compliment’s meaning more impactful.

“I do?” you ask, shifting your weight.

“I’ve never heard you so doubtful before,” he observes with a gentle grin. “First about your designs, and now about your looks.”

He reaches out to you, and for a split second, you think he’s going to caress your face. Instead, he grazes his fingers over the cape’s fabric.

“You do look pretty,” he hums. His eyes scan the material, gaze softening as if recalling something bittersweet.

“Jeonghan bought it for me,” you state. You’re not sure why you disclose that information. Why does it matter to Seungcheol if Jeonghan gifted the fabric to you? He probably doesn’t care. The air just felt too suffocating to stay silent.

“That’s nice of him,” he mutters before pulling away. Maybe you’re imagining it, but he sounds more monotone than before.

“Y-yeah.”

Another pause.

“Actually, I should probably change out of it. Do you mind?” you ask. You expect him to make a joke of “having seen it all already,” but he doesn’t.

“Oh, yeah. Of c-course,” he answers, turning around.

You wait a few seconds to ensure he isn’t going to peek before finding your bag with your spare clothes. The dress you don is too long to wear outside. You don’t want it to get snagged on anything; plus, you’ll probably get your foot tangled in the fabric in the car later.

You quickly change into a simple dress and sneakers, stuffing your red dress in another garment bag.

“Okay, I’m done,” you announce.

Seungcheol turns slowly. He takes in your new outfit, and if you didn’t squirm and look away, you would’ve spotted the little smile on his lips.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” he asks, glancing around the room. It’s mostly empty. You just need to carry the clothes back to your car.

“You don’t have to stay. Thank you for the flowers,” you say.

“Well, I’m not letting you walk to your car alone,” he replies.

“I’ll be fine. The campus is well-lit.”

Seungcheol eyes you, mouth pursing to tell you he doesn’t care.

You sigh and hold out the bouquet, knowing he isn’t going to leave. “Hold these.”

He does so and watches as you drape the garment bags over a table. You start to dissemble the clothing rack.

“I could’ve done that,” Seungcheol says.

“I’m sure you’re capable, but it’s quicker if I do it. I know how to take it apart,” you reason. You place the pieces in the bag they came in, zipping it and placing the strap on your shoulder.

“Let me,” Seungcheol offers.

“I don’t know,” you say slowly, stepping away. “You look awfully pretty holding those flowers.”

And he does.

His dark clothes and hair contrasting with the bright colors of the flowers, create a pleasing sight.

Upon hearing your teasing tone, he grins. “You look prettier with them, so take them.”

He holds out the object, but you shake your head. You hang the clothes over your arms despite his second protest.

“I need a good view on our walk to my car,” you explain and start to move to the door. He follows reluctantly.

Somehow along the journey, you end up swapping items anyway. You now hold the bouquet, unable to stop taking several whiffs. You can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten flowers before. Maybe one or two, but never a whole bouquet.

Seungcheol packs your car carefully, ensuring he doesn’t accidentally destroy any of your outfits. They’re all protected in bags, but that doesn’t make them invincible.

“Are we still meeting tomorrow?” he asks when you’re seated in your car; your window is rolled down to talk to him. He has one hand resting on the roof of your car as he peers in.

“If you’re still willing to,” you reply.

“I am,” he answers.

“Okay.”

A pause.

“Will you text me when you get home?” he asks.

“You don’t need—”

“Or I can tail you. It’s your choice, Cherry.”

You exhale audibly.

“I’ll text you,” you decide.

He smiles. “I thought so.”

He stands up to leave, telling you a goodbye you barely register as you debate something in your head.

“Wait, Ch-Seungcheol,” you call and peek your head out.

He pauses in his steps to look back.

“Will you… text me when you get home, too?” you ask hesitantly. The question shouldn’t make you nervous, but it does. Maybe because it’s a hint that you still care about him.

The corner of Seungcheol’s mouth rises, a gentle chuckle escaping into the night.

“Yes.”

The simple word has you reflecting your own grin, giving him a final wave as he walks to his car, which is easily visible due to the nearly-empty lot. You wait for him to get into his vehicle before you leave.

You [10:48 PM]: Home.

Choi Seungcheol [10:56 PM]: good

You [10:57 PM]: Are you texting and driving, or are you home as well?

Choi Seungcheol [10:57 PM]: home (:

You [10:58 PM]: Did you forget to tell me?

Choi Seungcheol [10:59 PM]: no i just got home

You [10:59 PM]: Okay.

You [10: 59 PM]: Thank you for coming and for the flowers.

Choi Seungcheol [11:00 PM]: u dont need to thank me. i enjoyed it

You [11:01 PM]: Still… Goodnight, Seungcheol.

Choi Seungcheol [11:01 PM]: sweet dreams cherry

The trek to Seungcheol’s apartment door is grave.

As much as you try to push away the last memories you had here, they’re difficult to ignore. Each step makes the feelings resurface. You just wish this visit won’t end in the same way. His words from that day still sting, but you’re tired of staying in the past. The short interaction with him last night reminds you of how nice it is to be around him when you aren’t fending off his business friends. It spurs the hope you once felt that you could somehow make it work with him.

Seungcheol had messaged you earlier that something had come up and asked to meet at his apartment instead of the café. You were hesitant at first, but he reassured you he wasn’t going to offer a ride. It’s a bit silly that the decision is based on whether he is driving you, but you feel more comfortable knowing you don’t have to rely on him if things go awry.

Seungcheol opens the door with a kind smile.

“Come in,” he greets, stepping to the side.

You move past him and take off your shoes while he shuts and locks the door.

“I’m sorry about the change in plans, I—”

Your scream has him halting.

You hastily push yourself behind Seungcheol, shoving your back against the wall and clutching his shirt roughly.

The abrupt yank on his clothes has Seungcheol stumbling backward. His hands come up to steady himself on the wall, trying not to crush you.

You hold him close to your body as a shield.

“Get it away! Please, Cheol! Make it leave!” you yelp frantically.

“W-what? What’s wrong?!” Seungcheol asks, completely startled by your sudden outburst. He tries to turn to face you, but your strong grip on his shirt limits his range of motion. “It’s only… Oh.”

Seungcheol laughs.

A chorus of “ha’s” that has you hitting his back in frustration.

“Cheol!” you whine when a loud woof sounds in the room.

“I didn’t know you were scared of dogs,” he muses.

In front of Seungcheol is a big, furry dog. The breed is unknown to you, but that’s the least of your worries. You truly don’t give a fuck. You just need it gone.

“Well, I am, so make it go away!” you cry and give his muscular back another thud.

“Okay, okay. Let go, Cherry,” he chuckles. You slowly release him, keeping your body one with the wall.

“Come on, Cho, let’s give Cherry some space,” he says cheerfully to the dog; the pitch is higher than before. Why does the beast get to hear that tone from him?

“It’s staring at me,” you huff, eyes on the animal carefully.

“He’s just interested in you,” Seungcheol chuckles, hand rubbing the dog’s head. He moves away and tries to call the dog to him, but it doesn't listen.

Another yelp comes from your lips when it starts to walk toward you again. Seungcheol kneels down and holds onto its chest instead, almost as if he’s hugging it.

“Go to my bedroom; I’ll be there in a second,” he instructs kindly.

“It’s going to chase me,” you say.

He laughs softly. “I’m holding onto him. You’re safe.”

“Are you sure?” you ask cautiously.

“Yes. Go on,” he smiles encouragingly, nodding in the direction of his room.

Slowly, you push away from the wall. You stay a good distance from the beast in Seungcheol’s arms. As if it wants to tease you, it barks at you. That lights a fire under your ass that makes you break out into a sprint.

You shut his door in a hurry.

You step away from the entry in case the dog decides to knock it down. As you unwind, your eyes scan his room. Nothing has really changed—not that it should’ve. While his bathroom door is ajar, his closet is on full display. You don’t think anything of it, but then your eyes catch on to something red. He has red in his closet, so the color isn’t what intrigues you. What catches your attention is that it’s a dress.

A red dress in Seungcheol’s closet.

You shouldn’t be touching his stuff without his permission, but your hand reaches out on its own. You carefully graze your fingers over the material. The silk is smooth under your touch. It feels good against your skin.

There’s a bag hanging off the hanger. You should stop while you can—snooping never ends well for anyone. Yet, that doesn’t halt your hands from removing the bag and peering inside. It’s empty except for a receipt.

You figure it’s for the dress; however, the name of the place at the top isn’t a clothing store.

It’s a fabric store.

Seungcheol’s door suddenly opens, jolting you from your spot, paper still in hand.

“Are you okay? I would’ve put him in another room if I had known you were scar—”

His eyes fall onto your hand. They grow slightly, and he stands still.

You take the moment to look back at it, scanning the item to try to figure out what it’s for. Before you can examine it for long, it’s pulled from your grasp.

“What’s that for?” you ask as he stuffs it in the pocket of his jeans.

“Nothing. Why are you looking through my stuff?” he questions back. His tone isn’t unkind, but it’s not as cordial as it was before.

You can lie about it, but it was in a bag you deliberately opened. Unless he forgot where he put it, he would know the truth.

“I was curious,” you answer truthfully.

“It’s not polite to look through people’s things,” he scolds and walks to his closet door. He starts to shut it, but you can’t move past the mysterious dress.

“Are you seeing someone?” you wonder. There’s something sharp prodding your heart at the possibility. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter. Maybe you’re just here to mend a broken platonic friendship rather than a romantic one. You were never his to begin with, but something breaks in your chest at the idea of the opportunity being taken from you.

Suddenly, “Are you dating Hajun?”

All those times you pushed him away… Were you pushing him into her arms instead? Is that why he never let go of her? But he didn’t sound like her boyfriend in the theatre’s lobby.

Seungcheol finishes shutting his closet door before he focuses on you. His eyes dance across your face for a moment. You can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“What makes you think that?” he asks. He moves to sit on the bed, patting the space beside him, but you shake your head. You don’t want to be close to him right now.

“The dress,” you trail off, “in your closet.”

He releases a dispirited exhale.

“It’s not hers,” he says.

The grip around your heart loosens an inch but still holds on tightly.

“Hana’s?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Let’s resolve our other issues before we get into another, okay?” he suggests.

Your eyebrows furrow. “So, the dress would cause another issue?”

“Hasn’t it already?” he sighs. “You weren’t meant to see that.”

You scoff, arms crossing. “I would’ve never guessed.”

Seungcheol frowns at your sarcasm.

“We can talk about it later.”

“Why dance around the topic? Just tell me if you’re seeing someone,” you argue.

“Why?” he replies, eyebrow quirking.

“Because—” I want to know if there’s a chance for us. “—that would explain the dress.”

“Just dro—”

“What’s the big deal?”

“It’s—”

“Just tell me.”

“Cherry,” Seungcheol groans.

“Yes or no. It’s simple.”

“No.”

“No, you’re not dating, or no, you don’t want to answer me?”

“No, I’m not dating anyone.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Some relief floods in your chest, but there’s still something odd about the wardrobe addition.

“Then—”

“It’s yours,” he finally huffs out, irritation laced in his tone.

That shuts you up successfully.

“It’s for you,” he sighs, voice softer, and stands up. “Or, it was for you.”

He pulls open his closet and takes the garment off its hanger. He grabs one of your hands and places the item in it. Before you can get a proper grip on it, Seungcheol lets go which forces you to clutch it quickly.

“Wha-What do you mean? I-I didn’t leave this here. I’ve never worn this. I—”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “It’s new. I got it before… before our fight. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

Your eyes drift to the dress in your hands, lifting it up to see it better. It’s nothing too flashy, but it’s still beautiful with its simplicity.

That pang in your heart comes back but for a different reason.

“You’re not just saying this as an excuse, right?” you ask, the thought bubbling in your mind.

He gently takes the dress from you, laying it out on one side of the bed while guiding you to the other. He sits you down.

“No,” he answers. “I’m telling you the truth. It’s yours if you want it—no strings attached. If not, I can donate it.”

Your eyes move back to the clothing item.

“Why did you get it for me?” you ask and look at him.

Seungcheol rakes a hand through his hair, ears turning a light pink. “I was going to ask you on a date.”

“Y-you were?” you stammer, eyes wide. You’ve always wondered if what he told you while you were crying in his arms was true or if it was all just said in the heat of the moment. Your heart races knowing he meant them. He really did like you then.

“And I was going to ask you to wear this,” he explains, eyes moving from yours.

You continue to stare at him, flabbergasted. His plan was sweet, and part of you feels bad for having ruined it. Though, that wasn’t entirely your fault.

You’re not sure how to respond. You feel utterly honored that he got you a dress for your potential first date with him. However, you don’t know where you stand right now. Unresolved issues still hang in the air.

“Let’s talk about something else, then get back to this, alright?” he tries again.

This time, you nod.

“I know I already apologized, but I truly am sorry for what I said here last time,” he begins.

“Were you really just joking?” you wonder.

“It was a mix, honestly. I was a little shocked at the thought of you never having sex before.”

You frown but try to keep your emotions in control. “Why?”

“Because I’ve heard you’ve gotten around.” He winces as the words come out. You glance in your lap for a second, grabbing the hem of your skirt to play with it.

“From who?”

You aren’t too surprised to hear this information. You have plenty of “enemies” on campus. One of them was bound to start rumors. Hell, you have a few exes that go to the university, so they could’ve spread false information too.

“Several people,” he speaks softly so he doesn’t hurt your feelings. “I actually knew about you before we met at Jeonghan’s.”

“Really?” you question and look at him again.

“Yeah, but I heard about you a lot more when Hajun and Hana realized who you were,” he explains. “I guess their words stuck without me knowing.”

Your lips dip down. “Did you believe them?”

You hold your breath as you wait for his reply. You already have a feeling Hajun and Hana have talked enough shit about you to fill two whole toilets, but their opinion of you isn’t the one that matters.

Seungcheol sighs, gaze drifting from you and then away.

“I’ve never seen you act the way they described, so not completely,” he answers.

“Not completely?” you repeat.

“There was always that thought in the back of my head… Wondering if you just wanted to sleep with me.”

A scoff. “You thought that even when I kept pushing you away at the start?”

“Maybe you were playing hard to get,” he attempts to reason.

“No, I was genuinely annoyed,” you say.

“Ouch,” he frowns.

“Also, need I remind you that you were the one that kept approaching me?” you add.

Seungcheol leans back on one hand, the other running through his hair again.

“I know,” he says. “I think I just heard Hajun and Hana talk so much that the thought was just always there because of them. I never saw the person I heard about… Well, you weren’t always nice, which I also heard.”

You roll your eyes, not truly irritated at his last comment since it isn’t entirely false. “I’m not one to play along if I don’t like you.”

“I’m aware,” he answers, a small smile on his lips.

“Why did you stay friends with them when they said bad things about me?” you question next.

“Like I said that day, I had known them a long time, and we were in a project together.”

You recall his reasoning, but you still want to ask. “That’s it?”

“Why do you think I did it?”

“Because you agreed with their views on me,” then you mutter, “or maybe because you liked Hajun.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows angle downward. “I’ve never felt anything romantic toward Hajun, and I didn’t believe them.”

“Did it not bother you when they said that stuff?” you ask.

“It did. I really did tell them to stop when you weren’t around,” he answers. “It’s not easy to let go of people you’ve known for years.”

“I beg to differ,” you huff.

“Would you ditch Dae if she spoke badly about me constantly?” he questions.

You tilt your head. “That would mean I have to care about you a lot.”

“Don’t you?” he teases lightly, leaning toward you.

You smile small. “More than her? No.”

“Breaking my heart, Cherry,” he chuckles and pulls away. He inhales deeply and then continues. “I was hoping something would change, and you would all get along.”

“I told you it would never have worked out,” you reply.

“Wishful thinking,” he shrugs.

You nod, moving your gaze again. An important question lingers in your mind. You want to ask, but you’re truly nervous about his answer. At one point, you would’ve found a way for it to work, but now, you don’t know if you can.

“Ask me,” Seungcheol coaxes softly. You glance at him, wondering how he knows you have a question for him.

He chuckles. “I know there’s more running in that pretty head of yours.”

Taking a deep breath, you nod.

“Are you still talking to them?”

He was just talking to Hajun yesterday, so you aren’t going to be surprised if he says yes.

“No, I’m not,” he answers sternly.

That shocks you more.

“Y-you’re not?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“I realized I care about you more than I do them,” he says, echoing your earlier words. “I choose you. I’ve always chosen you in the end—even if it didn’t feel like it.“

You’re on the edge of inwardly celebrating. It’s relieving to finally hear he has cut ties with the people who made your life miserable.

“I-I saw you… I mean, I heard you yesterday with Hajun at the theatre,” you confess.

It’s his turn for his eyes to open bigger. “Nothing happened between us.”

“What was she talking about with your grades?” you ask, recalling how she used that against you.

Seungcheol rubs his temples. “I just got a low test score. It really isn’t a big deal.”

“Because of me?” You frown.

“No,” he’s quick to reassure, “it had nothing to do with you.”

“But Hajun said—”

“She was just finding excuses for me not to be there,” he explains. “Her words didn’t mean anything. I’ve gotten low grades before.”

“She seemed serious,” you argue.

“Because she was,” he sighs.

“Do you really think she was looking out for you?”

Seungcheol rubs at the back of his neck. “Sort of, but I also think she was exaggerating things to make you seem worse.”

“I’m sorry if I distracted you from your studies. I should’ve left you alone,” you apologize, averting your gaze.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab one of your hands. You look at him when you feel his touch.

“Even if you tried, I would’ve kept bugging you,” he replies. His words make you feel a little better, but you still feel guilty despite him saying it isn’t your fault.

“Why would you have?” you ask.

He smiles kindly, eyes softening at the thought of his reply.

“Because I liked you and wanted to get to know you more.”

Your face heats at his words, or maybe it’s because your body is tingling with his skin against yours. Regardless, you feel the butterflies awaken in your stomach.

“Do you—do you still,” you trail off, feeling anxious at the question.

“Do I what?” he presses gently. His thumb glides against the top of your hand.

You stare at his floor when you continue slowly, “Do you still like me?”

There’s a moment of silence before you feel his fingers against your chin. He guides you to look at him; he’s staring at you as if he cherishes and adores you.

It’s the same look he had when he was watching both of your friends at the restaurant. It’s difficult to believe he’s giving that gaze to you now.

You can’t tear your eyes from him.

“I like you very much,” he declares confidently.

Your mouth twitches as you try to suppress your smile, but it’s pointless. Your lips stretch until they hurt.

Seungcheol mimics your grin. “Do you like me?”

At one point, you would’ve profusely denied it. You’ve been pushing away those tempting thoughts for so long that you can’t do it anymore. There is something about Seungcheol that you can’t shake off.

It could be the way he always holds the door open for you. It could be that he always takes care of you—carrying you so you won’t hurt your feet, offering his home when you need it, holding your belongings so you have to lift as few fingers as possible. Or perhaps it could be the way he makes you feel like your head is in the clouds.

You always thought you’d want a partner who you didn’t constantly argue with, but you found the light bantering between you two entertaining. Sure, it does get under your skin at times, but you never stay truly mad at him.

Seungcheol makes you feel special. He makes you feel wanted.

He makes you feel loved.

So, with the smile still etched on your face, you answer, “Yes. I like you.”

Seungcheol’s eyes go from quarter moons to waxing crescents. Small wrinkles form as his mouth widens to a gummy smile. The happiness on his face has your heart skipping.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, eyes hopeful.

You nod without hesitation. “Please.”

Seungcheol’s lips still have the same effect as before. It takes your breath away and makes you giddy.

He moves a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until you are nearly on his lap. The position doesn’t offer you much balance since you’re trying not to knee him in the jewels.

You start to pull away when you feel your body slipping off the edge of the mattress.

“Wait, Cheol—” you try to warn, but it’s too late.

You tumble to the floor, dragging him with you.

You both land with a thump as you’re pulled from each other.

Seungcheol’s booming laugh echoes in his room, causing your own stomach to hurt from giggling.

“Are you okay?” he asks between breaths while sitting up. You stand from the floor, straightening out your clothes. He follows you up.

“Yeah,” you reply. “You?”

“I’m fine,” he reassures.

You jump when the dog outside barks at the noise. Seungcheol smiles at you and reaches out to give you a comforting pat.

“Relax, Cherry. Cho isn’t going to hurt you. He’s a big baby,” Seungcheol soothes.

“It didn’t look like one,” you huff, recalling the size of the animal.

Seungcheol guides you back to the bed.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” he asks, easing back into the somber conversation.

You pause as you think. When nothing comes up, you shake your head.

“Do you?” you offer.

“Three,” he answers.

You breathe slowly, preparing yourself for them. “Okay, what’s your first?”

“What else did Hajun tell you by the restroom?” he wonders.

“Oh,” you mumble, not expecting that. You go back to that memory in your head. “A-are you sure you want to know?”

Seungcheol's face grows serious, head nodding curtly.

“She said you left me because I was a slut. She told me you said I was the ‘worst fuck you’ve ever had,’ and she called me worthless,” you pause as Seungcheol’s jaw clenches and eyes narrow. If you weren’t talking about someone else, you would be worried to see such an intense stare.

“She said you were trying to get rid of me, and the only way you could do that was to sleep with me… Since you know, I just need ‘something between my legs to be satisfied’.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Usually, it doesn’t bother you, but combined with his stare makes you shift uncomfortably.

“I didn’t say any of that. I hope you know that. She made that up,” he says, expression easing when he speaks to you. “I wasn’t even going to say anything, but she kept wondering why you weren’t around. I just told her we had a falling out, and that’s it.”

From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you believe him.

“I believe you,” you voice aloud.

His once-tensed shoulders relax at your words. “I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted to hurt you. You’re not any of the names she called you.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Although you’ve been trying to ignore Hajun’s words the past few days, you feel better knowing Seungcheol’s true feelings.

“I’m still sorry,” he says.

“I know. I forgive you,” you respond, hand resting on his thigh.

“You don’t have to. I know what I said was disgusting and rude.”

“It was,” you concur, “but I’m willing to forgive you because I don’t think you mean what you said.”

And now he won’t have those toxic people whispering lies in his ears.

“I don’t,” he repeats. “I think people are intimidated by your confidence. You know what you want, and you know your identity, while some people don’t. It scares them, so they take it out on you. They’re jealous of you.”

“It sounds like you're buttering my biscuits, Mr. Choi,” you hum as you listen to him analyze the people who dislike you.

“I’m just being honest,” he says, a slight frown on his lips.

“I appreciate it,” you reply more earnestly. You’re grateful he confirmed he didn’t think those negative thoughts about you. You feel you can circle around the topic for hours, so you ask for the second question.

“Do you like Jeonghan?” Seungcheol asks.

That takes you by surprise. “No, why do you ask?”

You almost laugh at the idea of dating Jeonghan, but you refrain from it. You don’t want Seungcheol to think his question is stupid even if it is.

“You two just seem close,” he says.

“I tolerate him more,” you explain. “I only like you. Now, next question.”

“Wait, I want to make sure you don’t like hi—Hmph!”

Your lips meet his to stop his sentence. He melts quickly against your mouth, a hand reaching out to your waist. You pull away before it can go any further.

“I would never kiss Jeonghan like that,” you smile.

Seungcheol grimaces at the image you put in his head. “That doesn’t mean you don’t like him.”

“So, I would like that fool, but not kiss him?” you wonder. “Okay. Then I like you, but we can’t kiss anymore.”

“What?” he asks, startled.

“If I can like Jeonghan and not kiss him, then I can like you and not kiss you.”

The corner of Seungcheol’s mouth pushes down. His lips purse slightly when he speaks, “Alright, I get it. I believe you. Kiss me.”

“No,” you say defiantly.

“If you like me, then you’ll kiss me,” he explains.

“But you just said—”

“I lied. You have to kiss the people you like,” he corrects quickly, leaning toward you.

“Is that so?” you ask, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips.

Not having a good feeling with the look on your face, Seungcheol sulks, “You only like me, so that means you can only kiss me.”

You smile at hearing his dragged-out words.

“Is that the rule?” you tease.

“Yes,” he huffs.

“Then I guess I can kiss you,” you say. However, you don’t move from your spot.

Seungcheol fusses, “Now, baby.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Fine.”

You move in closer, smiling when he meets you halfway. The kiss doesn’t last long as you pull away to ask for his third question.

His tongue darts across his bottom lip as he stares at you. His gaze is solemn, and you mentally prepare yourself for what he has to ask.

“It hurt me to know I caused you pain,” he starts slowly. “I never wanted you to think I believed the rumors about you, but I guess they had an effect on me that I wasn’t conscious of. I regretted everything I told you that day the second it came from my mouth. I was so desperate to fix my mistakes that I didn’t take the moment to think.”

You watch him intently. Each word is taken in with great care, trying to push aside the initial feelings of anger and hurt to hear him objectively.

“I know I made a mistake by keeping them my friends for so long. I just wanted things to work out, and I wanted you all to see the good in each other. I know that sounds a little cliché, but it’s true… Maybe I just didn’t want to choose between you all,” he pauses to take a breath.

“Though, most of all, I wanted to know you more. Despite not having the best first impression, I realized quickly you weren’t what people made you out to be. Along the way, I started to see you as more than a friend, but I had trouble finding the right moment to see things through. Then I fucked it up, and I didn’t think I could fix it… but you’re here now. And we’ve talked things through.”

You nod to show you understand what he’s saying.

“So, where do we stand?” he finally asks.

“I’m sure we could go around each other for days, but I’m ready to move on. I was fully prepared to never talk to you again, but I couldn’t,” you stop gradually, not sure if you want to disclose your next thoughts.

“You couldn’t talk to me?” he asks, confused.

Sighing, “No. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Oh,” he replies, a small smile on his lips.

“Don’t get too happy now. They weren’t all good thoughts.”

“I know,” his smile faltering, “but there were some good ones?”

“Yeah… There were good ones too,” you reply softly.

Seungcheol takes your hands in his, shuffling closer.

“What were they about?” he ponders.

You squeeze his hands. “Your smile.”

At your answer, his lips begin to lift again.

“How you held me,” you continue.

Seungcheol takes that as an invitation to push you back against his pillows. You smile, raising your arms to wrap around his neck as he presses his body against yours. One of his hands snakes under your back while the other rests on the mattress so he doesn’t squish you completely.

“How you kissed me,” you whisper.

The man above you grins wider, pecking your lips tenderly. You chase his lips, and he grants you a lingering kiss before pulling away.

“And most importantly, how you made me feel.”

Seungcheol rubs your back gently. “And how did I make you feel?”

“Like I was yours,” you murmur as your face warms at the confession.

“Will you be mine? Officially?” he asks, gaze darting back and forth between your eyes.

You wonder if he can feel your racing heart against his chest.

“Yes,” you say. “Officially.”

He chuckles, pressing his mouth on yours as if to really make it official.

Your mouths move languidly. You can feel his hair fall around your face, tickling your cheeks. Smiling, you tuck the strands behind his ears and then keep your palms cupping his cheeks.

When you adjust a leg to wrap around his lower back, he moves the hand under you to rub your bare thigh—exposed by your skirt. His hand trails up and down your skin for a moment until it goes lower. He grabs your ass, massaging it over your panties. His lips slip from yours to kiss along your jawline until he finds your neck. You have no doubt that you’ll end up having to hide a purple mark later.

Both your clothes are off in a matter of seconds. Seungcheol’s hands move across your body, exploring each bump and crevice as if it’s his first time. However, you’re no different. You feel like you’ve touched every part of him, yet you still want more.

Your soft moans fill the room when he scatters kisses down your body before latching his mouth on your clit. His hair quickly becomes tangled as you grab it. Your hips roll against his face, chest rising and falling as you get closer to your high.

His fingers accompany his mouth, pumping and scissoring in your wet hole. His raspy voice sounds sexy as he praises you when you come, but his moans are sexier. His eyes are hooded, drinking up everything you give him until you lax on his mattress.

You don’t even realize he put away your new red dress and slipped on a condom until a dip in the bed catches your attention. Your vision is coming back to you gradually. Seeing Seungcheol with messy hair and his lower face covered in your juices has you pouncing on him.

His laughter rings out, grabbing your face and slotting his mouth against yours while you straddle him. You don’t care that you can taste yourself on his tongue. You just need him to fill you.

You slide your dripping folds along his thick length, making sure it’s coated so he can sink into you easily. And easy it is.

Both your sighs and strangled moans permeate his room. You stare down at him, mouth open as you move your hips. His brows meet; he’s trying to control his breathing. Each drag of his cock against your walls feels heavenly. Although the pace is similar to the first time, it feels different. There’s more meaning with every circle and rock of your hips. Maybe you’re making it up all in your head, but when Seungcheol pulls you down on top of him to hold you as he begins to thrust his hips up, you know you aren’t.

The way he kisses you tells you he feels the same.

There’s less desperation in his movements now. You don’t have to worry about this being the last time. You don’t have to worry about him hooking up with another person. He isn’t available to anyone anymore. He’s loyal. He’s kind.

He’s yours.

Your legs press against his sides, a loud cry tearing from your throat as he pushes you over the edge. Your walls flutter around his cock that’s still gliding inside you.

“Just for me,” he pants. “You’re just for me.”

You nod, spewing a variation of agreements as you cling to him. Your body rubs against his while he keeps thrusting up. Mewls fall from your mouth as you start to become overstimulated.

Seungcheol coos in your ear, telling you he’s close and that you’re a good girl for letting him use you for his pleasure. His hips stutter each time you clench your walls around him.

By the time Seungcheol pulls out, you are a moaning mess. He flips you over, pulls off the condom, then comes onto your stomach and breasts. You’re sure the sight arouses Seungcheol as he fixates on your body.

His fingers run through his seed, spreading it more across your skin. His tongue darts out against your breast. You watch as he trails the wet muscle along your skin, his cum gathering on it until it’s full. Before you understand what he’s doing, he brings his mouth to yours. You open your mouth, greedily drinking what he’s giving to you. You don’t even stop to think how filthy the act is.

Even though you can tell Seungcheol is spent, he still cleans you with a damp towel before snuggling back in bed. You both fall into slumber a few minutes after.

You wake to a sudden cold breeze.

Whining in your sleep, you roll over to snuggle closer to Seungcheol; however, you’re met with empty space. You peel your eyes open reluctantly, leaning up on an elbow to see where he is.

Seungcheol sits on the edge of the bed with a sweatshirt and sweatpants over his body.

You crawl closer until he’s in arm's reach.

“Where are you going?” you murmur as you snake your arms around his wide frame.

He jolts at your abrupt touch but quickly relaxes once he realizes it’s you. He places his arms over yours, craning his neck to see you.

He pecks your lips. “I have to go walk Cho.”

“Can’t it wait?” you ask.

“He,” Seungcheol corrects, to which you roll your eyes. “And unless you want to clean his pee or poop, then no.”

He carefully pulls your arms from around him and stands, leaving you shivering as the cold air hits your bare body.

Seungcheol pauses by the bed when his eyes see your naked torso.

“You do make it hard to leave, though,” he sighs.

You smile and put a hand out for him to grab. He does, and you instantly tug him back onto the bed.

You kiss him quickly, bringing his hands to your chest, covering them so he can’t move away.

“Stay,” you say between kisses.

“Baby,” he protests while squeezing your breasts. His lips purse every time you lean in for another kiss. You grin in hopes you’re convincing him.

“I have,” a kiss, “to go,” a second kiss, “walk the dog.”

You finally stop your torrent of smooches to pout at him.

He chuckles at your expression. “You’re welcome to join.”

“I rather not get mauled,” you scoff and try to pull him closer, but he resists you this time.

“Why are you scared of them?” he wonders.

“I got attacked by one as a kid, and they never are friendly to me.”

“My poor baby,” he coos as he brushes your cheek. “Don’t worry, Cho is really sweet. Why don’t you meet him? Let him sniff you and then I’ll go walk him quickly.”

You shake your head frantically. “I don’t want it—him anywhere near me.”

“I promise you’ll be fine, but I understand. Maybe another time, okay?” he replies.

You nod and let your arms fall when he pushes off the bed.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” he informs while walking to the door.

“Okay,” you mutter and pull the covers over your body. He smiles at you before pushing open the door. Your body freezes when you see black fur at the entrance.

“Hey, sweet boy,” Seungcheol greets the animal happily. He stops the dog from coming inside the room, giving him a few pats and ruffles of the fur before easing him backward. “No, she’s not ready to say hi yet. Come on, let’s go out. You wanna go for a walk?”

Your body relaxes at hearing Seungcheol’s light voice. You’ve never heard it before, and you realize there’s still more to learn about the man.

The door shuts softly. The last thing you see is the dog jumping excitedly as he runs out of view. You hear Seungcheol laugh.

It dawns on you that you don’t know when he got the animal. He definitely wasn’t here the last time you were here. Does this mean you’ll have to stop coming to his apartment now? He spoke highly of the dog, and you trusted Seungcheol to keep you safe, but animals can be unpredictable. Still, you can tell how much Seungcheol likes him.

As instructed, Seungcheol comes back ten minutes later.

“So, how much did you miss me?” he teases while raking a hand through his hair. He takes off his sweatshirt, giving your eyes something to stare at as he walks toward you.

You stop him when he begins to climb into the bed. “Wait.”

“Did something happen while I was gone?” he questions, playfulness replaced with concern.

“No, I just,” you breathe in slowly, “I’d like to meet your dog.”

His eyes grow. “There’s no pressure to do so.”

“I don’t want to be run off by your dog anytime I come here,” you grumble. “Just a quick sniff; that’s all he gets.”

Seungcheol laughs and raises a hand to rub circles against your back. “I forgot to tell you that Cho isn’t mine. My brother had an emergency and needed me to look after him for a few days.”

“Oh,” you hum.

“So, you want to come back here?” he asks, recalling that part of your sentence.

“If you want me here,” you bashfully answer.

He leans down to kiss your forehead, easing your nerves.

“You can come over whenever you want,” he offers. “I would prefer it actually.”

“Why?”

You expect a sweet response, but instead, he just smirks and says, “Because I need someone to clean the place.”

You scoff, smacking at his chest and rolling your eyes.

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughs. He grabs your hand when you go to hit him again. He tugs you closer for a playful kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. “Do you still want to meet Cho?”

“Are you sure he won’t bite off my hand?” you ask.

“I’m sure,” he replies confidently.

Hesitantly, you nod. “Okay then.”

Seungcheol smiles and leaves you with a kiss on the cheek. Like before, the dog greets Seungcheol as soon as the door opens. His tail is wagging, and his mouth is open as he breathes.

“Cherry wants to say hello,” he tells the dog, slowly guiding the animal closer to the bed. Your body is rigid, and you clutch the sheets to your chest. You just hope this isn’t going to be your end.

“Sit,” Seungcheol commands. You watch as Cho does so.

“Okay, hold out your hand, palm down. Yes, just like that. Breathe, baby, it’s okay,” Seungcheol instructs you softly. You glance away but quickly look back. Maybe you can pull your hand away quickly enough before he chomps.

The dog leans his head close, nose wiggling as he sniffs your hand. The few seconds it takes feels like half an hour. Suddenly, the dog’s tongue sticks out. The act coats your hand in slobber, and you screech as you tug your hand to your chest hastily, thinking he bit you.

“It’s okay, Cherry. You’re okay,” Seungcheol soothes you, sitting on the bed. He puts the dog between his legs as he rubs your arm softly. You pull your hand back, sighing with relief when you see it still intact.

“Cho just licked you,” Seungcheol explains.

“S-sorry,” you say, eyes searching for the dog. He sits staring up at Seungcheol with his tail wagging. The pet isn’t lunging at Seungcheol or nibbling off his flesh.

“It’s okay. You did good, baby,” Seungcheol praises, giving you a kiss on the cheek as a reward. “I’m going to take him out, okay?”

You place a hand on his arm. “Has he ever bit you?”

Seungcheol glances at Cho and shakes his head. He gives the pup a loving head rub. “He’s just a big baby. He’s well-behaved. He’s even good with kids.”

“Has he ever bit your brother?”

“I don’t believe so,” he replies.

You peer down at Cho once more. You’re still scared of him, but seeing how much he likes being around Seungcheol, you feel a little bad kicking him out again; especially, since he doesn’t have anybody out there to keep him company.

“H-he can stay if he doesn’t come close to me,” you say cautiously.

“He’ll be fine out, it’s okay,” Seungcheol reassures.

“I trust what you say about him. He seems… okay.”

Seungcheol grins, slowly letting the dog go before climbing into bed. “He is.”

The dog stands, shakes out his fur, and then does something that has you clutching onto Seungcheol. Cho jumps on the bed.

“Oh god, he’s going to eat me,” you cry. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your body, pulling you close. He rubs your arm tenderly.

“No, he’s not,” he laughs. You watch as the dog walks around himself once before plopping down. Luckily, he’s on Seungcheol’s side. Cho rests his head on the bed, watching you both. His tail wags a little, but not as much as before.

“He just wanted to sleep up here. Is that okay?” Seungcheol asks you.

“You let him up here?” you question, knowing some people don’t like their pets on their beds.

Seungcheol shrugs. “The covers are dirty anyway. Might as well let him have a comfy place to nap. Speaking of, do you want to stay the night?”

“That’d be nice,” you smile at him.

You reach for the purse you brought when you first ran from Cho. You tap on your phone to see it’s nearly four in the evening. You didn’t realize how long it’s been since you arrived at eleven.

“Unfortunately, I’m not the best cook, so we may have to do takeout,” Seungcheol says shyly.

You giggle, sending a quick message to your sister that you won’t be home tonight.

“I can cook,” you offer.

Seungcheol looks at you sadly, hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Actually, I only have ramen. I haven’t gotten groceries yet.”

“Oh. I like ramen,” you reply and put your phone down once Seoah replies. Your phone keeps buzzing as she tries to get more information from you, but you simply put the device on Do Not Disturb and place it back in your bag.

“I wanted to treat you to something better than ramen,” Seungcheol says. There’s a faint frown on his lips.

“I don’t mind,” you reassure. “Now, can we sleep a little longer?”

You carefully guide Seungcheol down until his back hits the mattress. After pulling the covers over the both of you, you snuggle against his body.

“I guess I don’t have a choice,” he chuckles as he lets you lay him down. He holds you close, eyes staring at the ceiling as he rubs your back.

“Hm.” You close your eyes, letting the gentle rise and fall of his chest hypnotize you.

“Baby?” Seungcheol asks. You’re on the verge of sleep, but you hum again to let him know you heard him.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You smile, forcing your eyes open to peer at him. “Can I still wear the dress you got me?”

“You can wear whatever you want, Cherry.”

“Can I pick out an outfit for you, too?” you ask.

“While you have great fashion sense, I’m not sure—” he stops when you begin to plead with your eyes.

“Fuck,” he curses more to himself.

“Please, Cheol?” you ask, voice soft and lips pouting.

“You know I’ll eventually become immune to this, right?” he grumbles.

The way he words it makes it seem like you’ll be around long enough for that possibility to occur. You nuzzle closer at the thought.

“Maybe, but right now you’re not,” you smile wickedly. “What do you say?”

“Fine, alright,” he caves.

You lean up, giving him a big kiss as a thank you. He hums against your mouth. You feel his hands go south, but you quickly stop him.

“It’s sleepy time, not sexy time,” you scold light-heartedly when you pull away.

Seungcheol sighs dramatically but yields. “Hurry and sleep then.”

“You’re not going to run away, are you?” You narrow your eyes.

“Never,” Seungcheol smiles down at you.

Your gaze lingers on his eyes, quickly scanning his face. Finally, you let your mind wander freely. You let yourself indulge in how comfortable you feel around him. You don’t have to ignore those illusions you had produced, nor do you have to convince yourself that you only see him as a friend. You can fulfill those fantasies little by little. You don’t have to hide from your emotions. You already feel lighter at letting go of those conflicting thoughts.

Although Seungcheol jokes about keeping you around to clean, you wind up doing it without being asked. You suppose he knows you won’t be able to handle the clutter.

You’re picking up his discarded jeans when something flutters to the floor when you do so. You bend down to grab it.

It’s the receipt from earlier.

While Seungcheol is in the bathroom, you finally have the chance to examine it.

You notice the fabric store name, having only been there a few times since it isn’t local. Your eyes trail down to the item's name. Although it’s a shortened version of the name, you know what it is.

That brat.

The sound of the bathroom door opening has your eyes snapping up and hand lowering to your side.

“Why did Jeonghan lie to me?” you ask him before he can take two full steps.

Seungcheol looks at you, head tilting and eyebrows knitting.

“What did he lie about?” he questions.

“He didn’t buy that fabric for me,” you scoff and hold out the receipt. “You did.”

Seungcheol’s gaze drops to the paper in your hand. He releases a small exhale.

“It’s not a big deal,” he replies.

“You always say that,” you huff. Your eyes fall back to the receipt, glancing at the price. That makes more sense as to how Jeonghan got it.

“Because it’s true,” he says. He moves to stand in front of you. He carefully takes the receipt from your hand. “I just wanted to give you something you wanted.”

“Why? How’d you even know?”

He folds the paper as he answers, “Dae mentioned it at dinner that one time and Jeonghan told me about it.”

“You didn’t answer the first part,” you call out.

He chuckles softly. “That’s because it should be obvious. It’s because I liked you… I still do.”

“You can like me without buying me expensive things,” you reason.

“I know,” he says. His eyes fall down to the sweater that you wear—it’s his. Your legs are bare and have ankle socks on. “But I still wanted to. So, deal with it, Cherry.”

He gives you a smile before walking away and into the living room. You follow, still weary of Cho and huddling against Seungcheol if he gets too close.

“Hey, wait, you didn’t tell me why Jeonghan lied to me.”

Seungcheol takes two glasses from a cabinet and then shuffles to the fridge. “I asked him to.”

“You? He didn’t steal it or something?” Although you know Jeonghan likes to con others, he isn’t one to steal. Yet, you still want to ask since the whole situation puzzles you.

He laughs, filling the cups with ice as he replies, “No, he’s not like that. I wanted you to have it before the show, but I knew you wouldn’t take it after our fight.”

“You let me think he got it for me,” you state; your lips begin to dip down as you ponder on the thought.

You remember feeling so thankful to Jeonghan for getting it for you. There’s a pang of guilt knowing you were thanking the wrong person. You finally understand the look on Jeonghan’s face when he gifted it to you.

Seungcheol sets the glasses on the counter, grabbing your chin gently to make you look at him. His fingers are chilly, but they feel good against your warm skin.

“I’m just glad you used it, baby,” he says kindly. He lets go of your chin with a smile.

“Cheol,” you call, a hand reaching out for his bicep. He pauses in turning back to the fridge.

Once he is staring at you, you speak, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it wasn’t the blue you wanted. It was out of stock, and it would’ve taken too long to ship,” he explains.

You shake your head. “It was perfect. I liked the red more.”

Seungcheol smiles, though one side is lifted as if it’s a borderline smirk.

“I did too. Red looks good on you,” he compliments. One that takes you back to that cursed poetry lounge night. It was the first time he called you Cherry, and you called him Cheol. The first time you were alone with him for longer than fifteen minutes. The first time your body reacted in ways that went beyond the line of friendship.

“So I’ve been told,” you murmur.

“Have you?” he teases. “Whoever said that must be really smart.”

“Yeah, sure—” you begin, only to jump and knock into Seungcheol when Cho unexpectedly rubs his nose against your leg.

Seungcheol’s laugh doesn’t drown out the sound of your thudding heart in your ears, but at least it offers some (annoying) comfort. Cho is going to take some getting used to.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // the end

A/N: Although the series is over, I would love to continue writing this couple in the future! Please look forward to some bonus scenes... Perhaps from Cheol's POV? My ask box is open for any questions or comments about this series! Thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭 omg *trying not to freak out that it's over* (also wattpad says this fic's read time is 6 hours and 11 minutes LOLOLOLOL... nice 😅 but if you're a slow reader like me, that time is prob way more haha. this being said, ty for ur time while reading!)

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (cant tag :c), @cheolcherries, @mingyublues, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @comounlunar(cant tag :c), @minhui896, @doom-fics

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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innytoes · 6 months

Note

25 and Willex (bonus points if the child/dog/friend is Reggie?) (If you're still taking prompts for this 😁)

Every year for Halloween, Willie went back to the group home where he'd stayed to volunteer to take the kids trick or treating. Not only was it a way of giving back - of assuaging the guilt he sometimes felt, wondering why Caleb had picked a chaotic, messy fourteen year old over any of the sweeter, smaller kids - but it was amazing fun too.

He got to dress up, run around with a bunch of kids, and also maybe keep a list of houses to come back and egg later, if they were weird or stuck up about 'those group home kids begging for candy'.

Besides, being 18 at the Hollywood Ghost Club on Halloween sucked. It wasn't even like he could use his fake ID, the bartenders all knew him. And Caleb was super strict about stuff like that during business hours. So he helped out at the group home, and then went to the staff party at the Club the day after, when they were closed and nobody cared too much about whether or not a certain son of the owner swiped a Bloodtini. Or skated off the railing. Or tried to dunk the green grilled cheeses in the chocolate fountain.

And okay, so maybe this year his costume was a little obscure, but he'd procrastinated getting anything, so he ended up raiding Caleb's old costumes from his 'I did other stuff on Broadway too you know' closet, and some of his own, and a trip to the dollar store, and he was pretty pleased with himself.

Except clearly someone recognised him.

"OH MY GOD, ZEKE ZILLIONS SPACE COWBOY?" someone across the street screamed, before dragging someone by the arm over to them.

"See, I told you he was a real character," Willie told the four nine year olds he was chaperoning. They rolled their eyes at him.

"Oh my god oh my god," A boy about his age said. He was dressed up as a zombie, though for some reason he was also carrying a wok. His friend was also a zombie, but had on a long pink wig, giant fake pearls, and a pink dress. He had great legs. "Zeke Zillions Space Cowboy was my absolute favourite cartoon as a kid. Can I please get a picture? Pretty please?"

"Sure can, Pard'ner," he said in his best Zeke Zillions impression, and the guy straight up went 'EEEEeee' like he was an early twothousands internet fangirl. After his friend took a bunch of pictures, he thanked the kids for their patience.

"By the way, number 42 is handing out full-sized candy bars," ZomBarbie said.

Throughout the night, every time they crossed paths (ZomBarbie and the Wokking Dead were accompanied by a witch, Kurt Cobain, and a tiny ghost buster), they'd wave at each other, as his fan shouted out a 'HI ZEKE!'. Eventually they ended up at the same house, waiting for the kids to get back.

"Sorry about Reggie," ZomBarbie said. "He's um, kind of a fanboy for that show. Like, writes-fanfiction-and-goes-to-obscure-fan-meet-ups kind of fan. I think you just made his year."

"That's okay, I'm glad someone remembers good old Zeke," Willie said. He was definitely going sleuthing on AO3 later. He wondered what the ships were. "The show meant a lot to me as a kid, what with the obvious queer-coding." Hopefully, a cute boy in a dress would understand that.

"Yeah," ZomBarbie said. "My parents didn't allow me to watch it. Too worried I'd turn out 'fruity'." He motioned to himself. "Clearly they succeeded," he said sarcastically.

"You do really pull off that dress, though," Willie said, waggling his eyebrows. His zombie friend went adorably flustered, from what he could tell under the zombie makeup.

Before he could flirt any more, the kids came back, complaining about how this house was handing out toothbrushes and toothpaste. "Can you put them on the list, Willie?" one of them, the girl dressed as Coraline, asked.

"Handing out toothbrushes is kind of dorky, but not an egg-able offense," Willie told her. "We reserve that for bigots and assholes."

"You have a list?" ZomBarbie asked, as they walked to the next house. His kids and the little Ghost Buster were comparing notes, it seemed, pointing at different houses.

"Yeah, lot of people in this fancy-pants neighbourhood don't take kindly to poor foster kids showing up," Willie said darkly.

"Carlos said something about that white house with the American Flag outside complaining about him going back to his own neighbourhood," the witch said darkly. "We live two blocks from here."

Willie glared, and made a note of it. "You wanna join me?" he asked, mostly to ZomBarbie, but quickly looking away at the rest of the group.

"My tía would kill me," the witch said, before smiling slyly. "But I'm sure Alex wouldn't mind going."

ZomBarbie spluttered a little, but managed to squeak out a little 'okay!'

Jackpot.

Behind him, he heard the guy's friend sigh happily. "And once again, Zeke Zillions saves the day, dispenses justice to evil doers, and captures hearts."

#julie and the phantoms #fanfic #willex #zeke zillions is sadly not a real cartoon but I imagine the fandom is like 25 people #and one fanartist from Finland who only watched the dub #willie throckmorton #alex mercer #reggie is a fanboy #I wrote a thing #okay so I may have messed with Carlos' age a little for the plot shhhh

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alienaiver · 1 year

Text

Tales of Meet Cutes

Kozume Kenma x gn!reader

warnings: this is pretty fluffy! while reader is gender neutral, they are cosplaying male characters and are being described wearing makeup, so beware if thats not ur thing! :’) wordcount: 4.4k content: FLUFF, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly reader, canon compliant, post-timeskip, meet cute, kenma FALLS IN LOVE... HARD!, cosplayer!reader meeting kenma at a convention basically, kuroo’s the worst wingman but he swings it anyway!, kenmas a bit awkward but hes got the spirit, weirdly enough became an advertisement for the tales of games..., unbeta’d bcos i am sobbing about my con, reader cosplays mikleo from tales of zestiria and jack vessalius from pandora hearts! heres mikleo and heres jack (theres no switch release of zestiria this is just me dreaming btw </3)

notes: hihey!!! i was at a convention this weekend and have been ruDELY STRUCK by the post-con depression and its... its GIVING ME feelings. so i wrote this. im aware that conventions in japan are usually simply called ‘events’ and not cons like in the west but it felt sO UNSPECIFIC so ye. i actually do Not know what bouncing ball corp DOES... so im playing around. this is all based off of my own convention experiences but theyre obviously very local to my country so idk how it is in others <33333333 i hope u enjoy AWKWARD KENMA who stutters <3

It’s Friday afternoon and Kenma’s plugging the Nintendo Switch’s HDMI into the television’s port that the convention provided for their booth. Kuroo’s humming by their table as he places the flyers nice and orderly next to the game cases. Kenma turns to his friend, “you didn’t have to do this.” he says, flustered that Kuroo had to take a weekend off for him. Kuroo smiles, “’course I didn’t have to,” he looks knowingly at Kenma who bites his lip and stares pointedly at the floor, “but I wanted to. It’s a free convention, a weekend with my best friend plus, you’re paying me.”

It's true, Kenma has agreed to pay all of Kuroo’s meals this weekend no matter what he wanted – he knows Kuroo will seize the opportunity and ask for food he’s normally too cheap to buy himself, but Kenma’s happy to indulge.

Bouncing Ball Corp has for many years sponsored a big part of Tokyo Expo’s Game Room. It was one of the first places that properly introduced Kenma to streaming so it’s become like a silent thank you to them. The community is nice too and he knows a lot of his fans come here. For just as many years that he’s been a sponsor, they’ve tried to get him to have a booth or maybe even a panel but he’s been dodging them successfully every year. The attention seems like it’d be too much for him to handle for a whole weekend so he’s always declined and showed up stealth as a regular convention guest and enjoyed the Game Room. He was almost found out once because he beat a high score on the big center screen in front of an audience. He’s never ducked out so fast of anything in his life.

But this year’s dodging and parrying proved unsuccessful due to circumstances out of his power. You’d think running your own company would make situations like these impossible but alas. Kenma has been playing the Tales Of game series on his channel since the early beginning and after the third game, Bandai Namco reached out and they made a rather fruitful arrangement that’s served both of them well. Now, they’re releasing an anniversary Nintendo Switch release of Tales of Zestiria and wanted Kenma at the convention, advertising. He was put between a rock and a hard place when the game company reached out to the convention on his behalf – he knows they did it on purpose to render any of his moves ineffective.

So here he is, plugging the television into the massive outlet that runs through the room to accommodate every booth and game (is this even fire safety regulated?) with Kuroo by his side. One of the volunteers, a Gopher, has already stopped by multiple times to offer their assistance in setting up. Kenma thinks they might be a fan because the Game Room’s volunteer-leader has already been by upon their arrival and walked through whatever they might need from the convention and what they’ve brought themselves to the booth with him.

There’s usually not a lot of booths in the Game Room, traditionally focusing more on just having a lot of platforms and screens available with games ready to be played by the guests but it’s not uncommon to see a company or two advertise for something. At the far end, Kenma knows an indie-game developer is going to be. She’s also going to host a panel on how to make your own games and where to start. He’d like to stop by for that out of curiosity. There’s also a booth from a school where you can become a game designer who advertises for their education and tells people of the way you’ll have to go to reach that.

And then Kenma’s. He certainly feels out of place as he sets up the brand-new Switch with only one game inserted provided by Bandai Namco. He originally connects it to the Convention Center’s Wi-Fi but decides his own might be faster for the final download of the software. He hears Kuroo talk to someone behind him as he fiddles with his phone settings. The convention opens in just a few hours and he’d like to get lunch before anyone arrives. He dreads how he’ll have to be available here until at least after the dinner rush. He’ll have to eat a heavy lunch. He has a gnawing suspicion that Kuroo’s got food or snacks in his bag if the size of it is anything to go by. He hopes there’s the red bean Taiyaki that he likes in that bag. He really wants one now.

His stomach is gnawing, reminding him of that Taiyaki he imagined earlier. It’s past 7PM now and there’s been so many people that he really doesn’t want to come back tomorrow. Kuroo’s currently out, there was a tabletop event he wanted to check out and since there wasn’t that many people when he left an hour ago, he had said yes but they’re all coming back from their dinner and filling up the room again. The heat is unbearable; poor ventilation and so many machines turned on making it worse on top of the people crowding it. More than once he’s had to explain how the Switch controls work for curious guests and it’s getting repetitive in a way that he really doesn’t enjoy. Is he really an asset as a sales representative? He thinks not.

Maybe he should just take a peek in Kuroo’s bag. He probably wouldn’t mind, right?

Turns out that he definitely wouldn’t mind given that all there is in said bag is snacks that only Kenma likes and that he knows Kuroo doesn’t even the least bit pretend to enjoy. He stays crouched and rummages through it and lo behold, a red bean Taiyaki shines from the bottom of the bag. Out of the corner of his eye he spots two people nearing the booth, one whose color scheme is glaringly blue. He hears talk, someone jumping in excitement and thinks it might be an old fan of the game excited about the remake. He’s surprised by how few knows the game – it’s not that old, he keeps telling himself.

“It’s you!” a voice exclaims and with the Taiyaki hanging from his mouth, Kenma looks up with confusion and an accidental glare. Before his booth stands two people. One is dressed like an anime character from that fighting show he’s heard about and the other… Well, the other is none other than Mikleo, a character from the game he’s currently advertising. You’re standing with the game in your hands, sparkles flying from your eyes in excitement, your underlip worried between your teeth.

Kenma drops the Taiyaki from his mouth as his brain decides you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

(Luckily for him the snack lands on the bag and not on the floor. He doesn’t notice that at all though.)

“I shouldn’t buy it. I already have it at home for the PS3,” you start arguing resolutely, putting down the Switch case with much reluctance. Your friend laughs at you, “yeah that would be silly. But you were so sad about not finding any merchandise with Mikleo or Sorey on it in Dealer and Artist, so I’m glad we saw this!” you nod to your friend, eyes still glued on the game, “me too. I hope this remake will get it the revival it deserves. Maybe we’ll actually meet people who knows the game now,” you sigh before you start to continue on, “I don’t want to be late for the Tekken tournament though and if I stay here much longer, I’ll end up buying the game.” Your friend follows and you look back at the game one last time with mock sobs and an arm reached out towards it. Your friend laughs and drags you along.

Kenma stays crouched and frozen for a few more moments until Kuroo’s voice breaks through, “that cosplayer’s the character from the game, aren’t they?” his eyes are turned towards you before he looks down at Kenma, “you found the snacks?” he walks around the tables to get inside the booth, “we can go get dinner in an hour or so, is that fine?”

Kenma barely registers any of the questions that Kuroo asks him, still looking after your form. It’s easy to see where you’re going with your cosplay prop, Mikleo’s staff being his guiding star as you’re walking towards the big screen for the Tekken tournament.

Maybe he should join the tournament.

No, he definitely shouldn’t.

Right?

A palm suddenly touches Kenma’s forehead and Kuroo’s form is crouched next to him, looking only mildly concerned, “you okay? You need to get out a bit? Too many people?” the questions are many as Kuroo tries to locate what Kenma’s issue might be. It’s not a fever, so the redness in his face much be account of the crowd, Kuroo thinks. Kenma scrunches up his nose before he gets back to his feet, “I’m fine.”

Kuroo shakes his head before he picks up Kenma’s abandoned Taiyaki and gets back up, “let me know if that changes. I’d be more than happy to duck out for food early.”

Kenma reluctantly grabs the Taiyaki from Kuroo and continues to eat it in silence. Kuroo does what he does best and try to sell the game to whoever stops by even if they’re only stopping briefly. There’s an influx of people for the tournament and Kuroo manages to sell a few copies to old fans. Kenma fiddles with his water bottle as his eyes are glued towards the tournament area, hoping he’ll see you on your way out. He definitely doesn’t want to go for dinner before it ends.

Sadly, he doesn’t see you in the crowd leaving the area, all morphed together into one blob of mass. The Game Room is finally breathable again and they get ready to leave the booth, putting up the “Out for dinner, be right back!” sign and notify the Gophers that they’re leaving so they can keep an eye on the unattended booth for them.

Kuroo wanted something from the food stalls, much to Kenma’s chagrin. Kenma doesn’t particular like going out to eat but a restaurant’s volume levels is miles apart from the food halls of an anime convention’s. The line luckily isn’t long as Kenma stands with his phone, playing Valkyrie Connect on it to pass the time. Kuroo talks to the people around them in line, blending in even though this normally isn’t his crowd.

“Ah, thank you for holding the line! It was such a bother going to the bathroom in this,” you laugh, sounding out of breath as you pat your friend’s shoulder.

Kenma’s afraid to look up because out of his peripheral he spots the blue of the bottom part of Mikleo’s pants. The tail ends of your cap sways as you move around too and he feels his tongue grow a few sizes in his mouth. Kuroo continues talking with your friend who introduces you to him.

The good thing about Kuroo, that Kenma’s always appreciated, is his uncanny way of knowing when to push Kenma’s social buttons and when not to. So Kuroo simply lets the conversation flow with the two people in front of him, not letting their focus shift to Kenma in an effort to relief him.

He chances a look at you without lifting his head and you’re even more beautiful up close. Your wig seems to be of high quality and well taken care of, even after a whole day at the convention. Kenma doesn’t know a whole lot about makeup, but he can see that yours is sharp and accentuating the parts that make you resemble Mikleo the most. You’re wearing purple contacts and Kenma’s brain is fuzzy with the thought of what your real eye color must be like. Is your hair long underneath the wig? Or short? Your face seems perfectly sculptured and he has to look back down at his game so he doesn’t pass out from the way you shine.

“Whatcha want?” Kuroo suddenly asks Kenma and he realizes it’s already their turn. Kenma gulps loudly and shakes his head at Kuroo, hoping his blush isn’t too obvious. Kuroo nods at his non-verbal response before he orders two sets of bibimbap with two chicken bao buns. Kenma fumbles to get his wallet out of his pocket to pay for the food and Kuroo wordlessly takes the wallet from him so he can hand them the correct amount. “Anyways, have a great con!” Kuroo gladly tells you and your friend as they go to leave the queue and wait by the side for their order. Kenma stomps his feet mentally and looks you squarely in the face. Your smile is gentle and warm as he gets eye contact with you, “you’re a… b-beautiful.. Mikleo.” he stumbles over his words and hurries to join Kuroo by the side, feeling very childish with his breathing ragged and heart beating. He hears you making a reply behind him but he doesn’t make out the words as he focuses on Kuroo’s shoes and quieting his own heart.

When he reaches Kuroo, an unfortunate but very teasing smirk is on the bastard’s lips. “So it wasn’t a fever.” He teases, ruffling up Kenma’s hair. “Shut up,” he bites back and punches Kuroo’s stomach. Kuroo leans forward in mock pain and whispers close to Kenma’s ear with a teasing lilt, “they’re still looking at you. I think they’re flustered.”

Kenma just hits him again but dares not to look back to confirm whether or not Kuroo’s right, a pout evident on his face from Kuroo’s teasing.

Saturday morning comes around without too many hiccups and Kenma’s playing Octopath Traveler on his own Switch, precariously tipping the chair to alleviate boredom. Kuroo only teased him mildly yesterday and this morning, so he thinks he might be safe with his private crush. It’s lunch time soon and the big cosplay show is currently underway, which makes the Game Room pleasant, only a few people sitting by different platforms quietly playing games.

Kuroo’s at the cosplay show too, leaving Kenma behind. He’d offered to go together, but Kenma thinks the noises will be too much. He can always watch the show online at another date and he doesn’t technically mind manning the booth when it’s this quiet. A few fans have found out he’s here and passed by for pictures, but it hasn’t been too wild. He misses his cats even if he briefly saw them this morning.

He yawns as he finishes off one of the chapter 2 bosses, checking his battery percent as the victory screen loads. He’s still good to go for at least some time yet before he has to get up and dig the charger out of Kuroo’s bag.

“Excuse me,” your voice rings as you clear your throat and Kenma’s head whips up so fast at the sound of your voice that he loses balance and with a leg raised tall in the air, he falls backwards with a yelp that he’ll deny until the day that he passes.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” he hears the worried wobble in your tone as you shuffle around towards the little entrance to his booth but stops in front of it, unsure if you’re allowed to enter, stomping your feet anxiously. “I didn’t mean to give you such a scare, I’m sorry!”

As Kenma groans and places his Switch carefully next to him on the floor, he realizes that you’re trying to hold back a laugh at the scene in front of you, but your brows are still furrowed in worry.

You’re not Mikleo today.

He’s not sure who you are, really. He doesn’t recognize the design but then again, he hasn’t watched a lot of anime. But even if you’re in a total different outfit, with a different hair and eye color than yesterday, there’s no mistake who you are. You’re the one inflicting psychic damage on Kenma’s heart and he’s not sure how to handle this properly.

Your outfit is no less detailed or well-done than yesterday, with a blonde wig styled with a ponytail and a very exquisite-looking, long green coat lined with gold. You’re wearing a ruffled shirt underneath a black vest, knee-length boots and white pants. You must be hot in all that. He feels heat flush to his cheeks at his own staring and throws his head back to the ground, staring at the ceiling to avoid your gaze, exhaling a deep breath. You crouch down, still by the entrance to his booth and look at him, careful of the length of your ponytail – he can see now that it’s a braid. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask, biting your lip in worry about how he has yet to reply to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have walked up to him at all.

Kenma tries to make his eyes meet yours but he finds that he’s not really able to. He’s frozen staring up at the ceiling, feeling his blood pump faster than he’d like. His palms are lying spread but he can feel the sweat gathering there and there’s quite a bit of saliva gathering in his mouth that he seems to have forgotten how to swallow.

“Uhm. Was it Kazu?” you look up at the ceiling to see if Kenma’s found anything interesting, “ah! Kuroo! He said you’d be here when I saw him during the show break…” there’s a pause as you seem to think about what you want to say and Kenma finds the courage to move slowly to sit up, the thought that you sought him voluntarily out replenishing his HP bar.

You follow him with your eyes, a triumphant yet tense smile on your lips at making him blush so exceedingly. He’s pretty when he blushes, you think.

“I was wondering if you’d like to… Uh, get some lunch together from the food stalls?” Kenma whips his head towards you again, his expression more constipated than positive and you raise your arms in alarm with an apologetic smile, “y-you don’t have to of course! Kuroo just suggested that you might be hungry and well… I am too, but my friend didn’t want to miss the award ceremony so I thought… maybe… you’d like to? We could talk about the Tales of games, if you’d like?”

Kenma nods and looks away to regain control of his voice, “I’d like to, let me just close up here before we leave,” he says and a new excitement rises in him from being able to speak a whole sentence without stuttering to you. He chances a look at you he feels like he shouldn’t have because the smile that adorns your features is absolutely breath-taking and Kenma feels his heart stutter at brightness in front of him. You move to get up and dust off your thighs before reaching out to him, “need a hand?”

The walk to the food stalls isn’t as awkward as Kenma feared it’d be with his newfound inability to compose proper sentences. You let the conversation flow freely and naturally, filling in when his answers are stunted. You’re so calm and patient that Kenma finds himself opening up more naturally as you reach the stalls, taking a walk through the area to figure out what you’d like. Kenma also learns that you’re dressed as a character from Pandora Hearts today, a character named Jack. “Don’t get the curry,” you warn in a whisper-voice and lean in close to continue what Kenma supposes is gossip but his heart is beating so loud in his ears he barely hears why you issued such a warning in the first place. He simply nods and trots along, hands buried deep in his hoodie’s pockets.

You settle on the food stall that sells pizza slices. It’s a small food truck with a pizza oven inside that Kenma’s frankly fascinated by. There’s not a lot of options that he likes on their menu and he feels embarrassed to order something where half of the ingredients needs to be taken off in front of you but he would also like to be able to eat said food in front of you.

When it’s your turn in the line, Kenma motions for you to go first and as he hears your order, his mind immediately relaxes – he’s not the only one with special requests to remove certain ingredients. As it turns out, you end up wanting the same exact pizza as him, so he taps your shoulder and quickly asks if you want to change it from two separate slices and just share a regular sized pizza. Your eyes shine at his question and you nod excitedly before turning towards the cook on the other side who happily takes the new order.

You’re seated in front of each other with the pizza between you, the conversation flowing naturally and freely between games. “Have you ever played Fire Emblem?” Kenma asks through a bite of pizza and you hum through your chewing, “not yet. I only recently got my hands on my own Switch and that’s my first Nintendo console so I think it’ll take me a while to rack up my arsenal,” you laugh and Kenma nods, “you could always watch a stream of it?” he tentatively ask and you shake your head and put down your slice of pizza to take a sip of your drink, “I can’t really concentrate on streams… they’re kind of boring,” you admit with a sheepish laugh and Kenma’s back straightens as he tries not to take it personally. It’s technically not a big deal and he usually isn’t bothered by whether or not people would like him but he has a very deep-seated need for you to like him right now.

“What do you do on the daily? Outside of cons?” you ask after you’ve swallowed your last bite of pizza, “something with sales?”

Kenma raises a confused eyebrow at you and you laugh apologetically, “I just thought maybe for Bandai? Since you’re selling their game at the con.”

That’s when Kenma realizes.

You have no idea who he is.

And hey, Kenma isn’t that conceited that he thinks everyone knows him but with all the games you have the same interests in, he’d figured you at least knew his name or something of the sort. He also had a tiny drop of fear that you might just be seeking him out due to his status. He’s not sure he wouldn’t just let you, given how infatuated he is with you. What a wonderful way to get played, he absentmindedly thinks.

He's glad it seems to be in a whole other alley. You might just be interested in him for him.

“I uh, I own a company.” He tries not to sound like too much of a jerk but the sentence makes it hard to not sound high and mighty, no matter how he’d said it. Your eyes widen and you slap your palms onto the surface of the table, “that’s so cool!” you exclaim and Kenma tries to will down a blush. “What kind of company?”

He must look like a deer in the headlights to you because you shrink in on yourself and apologize for prying. He’s not sure why he didn’t expect such a follow-up question but his brain malfunctioned at the way your eyes shone. You’re wearing contacts again today, bright green and making your eyes seem bigger than they actually are. There are golden lashes lining your eyes and once again your makeup best accentuates what he believes fits the character because it’s different than it was yesterday but still just as sleek and beautiful. He hitches a breath before he can properly reply, “uh, it’s called… Bouncing Ball Corp.” he admits with a hand scratching the back of his neck.

Realization seems to dawn on your face as your eyes narrow, seemingly in deep thought. Then your mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape before you burst out laughing, a hand to your stomach. Kenma’s sitting like a duck, watching you go through all of these motions, confused as to what they might mean. Then, you wipe a stray tear from your lash line and apologize for your outburst, “it’s just. Oh my God, please apologize to your friend. When we met him at the show…” you laugh again, trying to breathe calmly, “I thought he was trying to hit on me because he started talking about knowing some kind of CEO and a streamer. My friend knew who it was but I didn’t and he seemed embarrassed that I didn’t. Oh God,” you’re still laughing, hiding your face behind your hand as Kenma puts two and two together.

That blathering idiot.

How many times does Kenma have to tell Kuroo not to be his wingman? He groans as he hides his face on the surface of the table, letting out strings of apologies on behalf of his friend. “I’m so sorry he’s just… like that,” Kenma bites out as he raises his head back up, licking his front teeth. You wave your hand with a smile, “don’t worry, don’t worry. He seems… fun. And he really seems to care about you.”

Kenma nods and plays with the woody veins on the table, unsure what to say when you grab his hand, “but you can thank him for his meddling, I think. It got the two of us talking, right?”

Kenma’s body seems to freeze at the contact as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. Your eyes look hopeful as you worry your lip between your teeth, a half-smile on your face. Kenma smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way as he squeezes your hand back with a courage he hadn’t felt in a while, “yeah, I’ll be sure to treat him to a nice dinner later. But I think I’d like to treat you to one first.”

You giggle as you look down at the table in front of you, “that’d be lovely. But I think you need to see me out of cosplay before you decide, don’t you?” you ask with nervousness teetering in your lilt. Kenma shakes his head, “I cannot imagine that you’re not beautiful underneath your costume. Besides, your personality’s what’s important and I like that a lot already.”

The smile you send his way make his heart pump again. Yeah, he definitely needs to thank Kuroo, no matter how stunted his attempt were, it ended up working.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu fluff #kenma kozume fluff #nohr.writing #I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE...... AGAIN IT IS UNBETA'D AND MY BRAIN IS STILL AT THE CON. I THINK I LEFT IT IN DEALER HALL LMAO #TRADED IT FOR A HAWKS FIGURE #i hope i got across how absolute STRUCK kenma is w reader. how bamboozled he is by their beauty

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pray4byron · 3 months

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Love the blog theme and colours! Esp the header. Can I get a HH matchup? The description is mostly pasted from another ask I did before, but like, I really don't have a new way do describe myself. Idk if this is as bad as sending the same propmp to two blogs, lmk cause I don't want to be disrespectful here

★Gender and pref: I’m a he/she and choose how I present myself based on the setting bc I’m not that open with ppl (yeah, it’s important to express yourself but realistically that won’t get me far in certain settings in my country); no gender pref but I’m not too fond of some writing choices when it comes to women in Viv’s works, depends on a character though

★Looks: my style has a rockstar gf vibe? Sometimes softer colours too. I'm 5’7, athletic but not ripped, gray eyes and wavy blonde hair. Ironically (in this context) lots of ppl call me an angel/angelic-looking. Not going to lie, that feeds into my ego a little bit but I don't really get what they mean. I wear makeup too, love the fox eye trend

★Personality, hobbies: I’m social and extroverted. Usually that leaves me as a leader of whatever group I’m in. I have a little bit of a hater in me, but I don’t show it if ppl don’t encourage it. I do like when it’s being enabled though. It’s not convenient when you’re in a position where ppl ask you for opinions and actually follow your guide, yk, if I manage an event I’m not going to go around shit talking everything. It feels nice to have someone who does that though, makes it easier to join in and not feel like a jerk (or at least be jerks together I guess??). I write my own songs and am in a band as a backup vocal. Kinda proud that it’s my band but I need to get better until I step up as anything more. I’m a bit of a perfectionist. I like to tease ppl if given the opportunity. Others say I’m flirty. Bold with it at that. I’m ambitious too. Kind of a big thing but I have npd (if you want to look it up without reading scientific papers, go on tumblr, the rest of the internet is filled with ‘demonic narcissism’ bullshit) and it influences the way I am. I care lots about my image and don’t have a ton of empathy. I don’t go kicking puppies, but it’s noticeable how I lack in this department. Sometimes people say I’m ’too nice to have it’ 🙄 cause i do well with kids and do all the youth group volunteering. Also, I do some martial arts and other sports. Kinda sceptical of romance at this point cause I had lots of it and I don’t mix well with a lot of people, but maybe I could do something serious for once if I had the right person. I try to be responsible and respectful but I have no issue finding my place at a wild party or something. I'm pretty chill in general, but I can be soft-er if I want, like with children or if the few ppl I‘m close with (I've got many friend groups but I struggle to make meaningful connections) need me. Usually I just stay my highly analytical, laid back self and say my silly little comments every once in a while. Heard I’m pretty funny if I want to be. My love language is acts of service. I like small things and I do them a lot. I can do words too, but I don't care for them in return. Like, you can be an asshole (up to a limit, I know my worth) and it’s cool with me if I see you have your ways of caring like putting on a song I like in the car

★❤️&💔: love movies like Fight Club (my fav), American Psycho and Donnie Darko; hate sharks, they freak me out; my fav book is The Catcher in the Rye; hate it when people push me to open up and be emotional; love music and I unironically had a few guys play songs AT me and I actually like that too, tho I get why ppl clown on it

★My type: I like people who are more negative than me and aren't afraid to shittalk everything. Just saying whatever, not caring if they offend ppl (up to a point, some issues aren’t debatable ik). They have to be somewhat funny. Just… not serious all the time at least. Don't really care for morality (to a certain point, again) if you're charismatic and fun to be around, I’m along for the ride and happy to support whatever you get yourself into. I think I would get along with someone who had a little npd too, I like to be able to relate to my partner a bit. If they work somewhat similarly, I don't have to struggle with understanding some stuff, bc I already know how to manage an ego or grandiose behavior. As for looks. Idk, I don’t have a set type. I think maybe ppl that are bigger than me? I’m pretty athletic so it’s not hard, but I guess that’s been a pattern? Also, I do enough of leading as is so in relationships, I don’t mind watching from the side and supporting whatever my partner is doing

-★🎶

first of all, thx!! my blog is all lute themed because i love her sm haha, also imo it’s not disrespectful so dw, but if some other blog gives you crap, i gotchu, anyway this was such a hard tie between quite a few characters, but here’s who i decided to pair you with…

Angel Dust !!

I was debating so hard between him, Husk, or Charlie — but decided with Angel cause he’s a happy medium imo

I feel like you and Angel can bond well, but under the correct conditions and circumstances, like you both have been through shit and it sucked — and it probably still has a tight grip on you today, but you guys give each other the boost to keep trucking along, you’re each others reasons to get out of bed each day, each others cheerleaders for lack of a better term

You definitely enjoy Angel because he’s not afraid to talk a bit of shit, but he’s also not as serious as Husk, he can have a good time, he also matches your flirty energy a lot so you guys kinda just bounce comebacks and random shit off eachother

Angel is ALL IN for your “rockstar + angelic partner” look, thinks it’s hot asf, genuinely thinks you were in Heaven at one point or another because of how undeniably beautiful you are

Angel also enjoys the kickass hater in you, you guys could sit and gossip and talk shit for several hours, but you both kinda keep eachother in check from going too far — especially infront of others

Despite Hazbin being a musical, I’d like to think Angel is canonically a good singer, because cmon, how could he not be with a VA like Blake Roman?? So he could easily sing at and/or for you, bitch would serenade you😩😩

Also bro finds the fact that you hate sharks hilarious asf, I could see him deciding to be a little fucker and getting you a shark plush as a gag/joke gift on Christmas or smth (or I guess Hellsmas?? Idfk.)

#reqs open #x reader #mio’s writing ! ☆#fanfiction #x y/n #x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #angel dust x reader #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel angel #mio’s matchups ! ☆

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keldae · 1 year

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Fluff sentence starters :D “You have something in your hair - let me get it for you.”

There were fringe benefits to being friends with people in the theatre program, Xaja mused – like being invited along on field trips to see plays, and easily filling her volunteer hour requirements during production week. But there was a definite downside as well – and that was the day the main production's set came down after the last performance.

It was fine, she decided inwardly. It wasn't like she had two research papers and a personal reflection paper due in the next couple of days and didn't have time to be taking apart a set, right? She grunted as she crawled behind one of the main set walls, power drill in hand, and desperately hoping there were no spiders back here.

"Having fun yet?" The cast hadn't been spared the set strike chores either – but Arcann was entirely too cheerful a mood for someone who'd gotten bonked upside the head by a wardrobe rack fifteen minutes ago. He appeared to be on the same task as Xaja in taking apart the walls of the set.

"Oh, tons," Xaja responded, looking around for another screw in the bracket holding the set together. "How's the concussion?"

"Bah, I'm fine. Don't stand up." Arcann reached over, and Xaja heard the whirring of his own drill over her head. She sneezed as sawdust started to drift down in front of her eyes.

"Sorry," Arcann apologized. The drill stopped, and he fumbled with his prosthetic left hand with the screw before pocketing it. "Any more on that bracket down by you?"

"Yeah, two that I see." Xaja grunted as she shifted her weight, working to take apart the bracket. "Someone's on the other side of this, yeah?"

In response, Arcann peeked through the window built into the wall. "Hey, you might want to catch these walls," he called out, then waited a moment before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, we're good. I think Professor Vowrawn recruited some help from outside the theatre department."

"Wonderful," Xaja grunted, inwardly wondering what the flamboyant theatre professor had done to lure in some more poor, unsuspecting souls. "Hopefully he brought 'em in from the sports teams."

Without looking up, she didn't see Arcann's mischievous grin. "They're warm bodies with muscles, they'll be fine," he said, then gave the wall a slight push. "Incoming!"

With a creak, the wall fell forward, caught by several pairs of hands. "Got it!" crowed a voice that immediately made Xaja's head jerk up. It was bad enough having a crush on the cute guy who lived across the dormitory hall from her, but if he saw her like this, in a grubby t-shirt and jeans, with dust all over her makeup-less face…

Dammit. That was Theron Shan, helping to carry the wall section away with Jonas and Koth's help. Maybe he hadn't seen Xaja in the chaos? But why did that prospect make her heart hurt just a little bit?

"You are about as subtle as an elephant," Arcann muttered, under the sound of Professor Vowrawn guiding the guys as to where he wanted the set wall placed; when Xaja glanced over, she could see him smirking, the gesture pulling at the scars over the left side of his face. "Liking checking him out?"

"I – what?" Xaja flushed as red as her hair. "I'm not checking Theron out!"

Arcann's grin widened. "I didn't say Theron…" he pointed out.

"... Fuck." Xaja groaned. "We're just friends, and I don't wanna wreck that." She glanced back over at Theron for a moment. "... Not my fault he's got a cute backside."

Arcann snorted a laugh, one that turned into a cough when Xaja glared at him. "Sorry, sorry… it's just hilarious to watch. I can put in a good word for you with him, if you want…"

"... I don't have a crush on him! And I don't need a wingman!" Xaja hissed. She firmly squashed the little voice in her head that wondered if Arcann's help might not be a bad idea. "He's not interested in me. If he was, he would have said something before now."

"... You two are perfect for each other," Arcann muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Xaja demanded, suspiciously glaring at him.

"Nothing!" Arcann coughed again, then looked over. "Next wall will be easy, should only take two of you to catch."

"I like easy!" Jonas' cheerful voice piped up. When Xaja looked over, she saw him, Theron, and Koth all standing close by, Professor Vowrawn tittering over another piece of the set being taken down.

"Yeah, we know that," Theron dryly commented – Jonas promptly glared at him as Koth and Arcann burst into laughter. The taller student then looked back at Xaja, and winked at her. "Made friends with any spiders back there yet?"

Trying to not feel self-conscious about how she looked, Xaja shook her head and grinned. "If I had, you would have heard the screaming from the dean's office."

Theron chuckled, then paused. "Hang on, you have something in your hair," he said, as the set wall to Xaja's right came down, carried off by Jonas and Koth. "Lemme get it for you." He reached forward; Xaja froze as she felt his fingers brush through her long red hair, knocking more sawdust free of the tangled strands. "There – I think that's the worst of it."

"... Thanks," Xaja murmured, feeling her cheeks go warm again at Theron's gentle touch. What she wouldn't give to feel his hand in her hair again, combing his fingers through the red locks, gripping her head and pulling it back for a kiss, like what she enjoyed reading in the Tumblr smut that Kira teased her about…

Theron grinned, then dropped his hand, looking unsure as to what to do with his arm. "Yeah, don't mention it. Figured you wouldn't wanna go around with sawdust in your hair and–"

"Aww, well wasn't that a sweet gesture!" Professor Vowrawn swooped in, beaming like a proud parent. "You two make such a lovely couple!"

"I–!" Xaja stammered, looking at Theron for a second (who appeared to be wide-eyed with panic), then back at Vowrawn. "We're not–!"

"She's not–!" Theron exclaimed in the same breath. "We're just friends!"

Vowrawn didn't seem convinced. "Oh? A pity. I shall still expect you both to audition for the leading man and lady for our next production – the chemistry you two have is what every production strives for! Now, you'll need to practice before that audition, make sure you're set in your–"

"Professor!" Theron squawked. "I'm not an actor! Xaja and I are just friends!"

Vowrawn grinned. "Nonsense, Mister Shan! You two are very good friends, I take it? Very… close to each other–?"

"Not like that!" Xaja yelped, wishing she could melt into the stage floor – or glare holes into the professor's head. She could feel the rest of the strike crew staring at her and Theron. "We're just… that would be weird!" But a good weird, she silently thought to herself.

"What she said!" Theron emphatically agreed. "Why mess up a perfectly good friendship like that?"

Tsking, Vowrawn shook his head. "Well, if you two are certain, then your next task is to clean out the green room. Chop chop!" He briskly clapped his hands, dismissing the two victims of his torment – Xaja willingly took the chance to escape with Theron. And if it meant time spent with him, without anyone teasing her about her crush on him, so much the better.

Neither she nor Theron saw Vowrawn sashay over to Arcann and tap his shoulder. "I have a bit of an extra task for you, Mister Tirall."

"Yes, Professor?" Arcann asked, looking over at the Pureblood professor curiously.

"An extra ten percent added to your overall grade for my class this semester if you can set those two idiots up somehow."

Arcann grinned. Academic credit for fulfilling what he (and the rest of the dorm) considered to be a necessity? "Done."

#thanks for the ask!#swtor #theron/xaja #xaja #theron #college!au #modern!au #otp: until the stars burn out #mutually pining idiots #and naturally Vowrawn has to interfere #arcann tirall #darth vowrawn #why yes i know some theatre people who WOULD assign extra credit to wingmaning classmates

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marinerainbow · 1 year

Text

No one asked, but here are some headcannons for the one and only,

~Jessica Rabbit~

(Why isn't this GIF used more often? No joke, she looks amazing here (then again she looks amazing in the whole movie))

I've seen people headcannon Jessica is asexual, and that's definitely awesome to see! However, I personally think she's demisexual. In one of the canon Roger Rabbit shorts, specifically 'Tummy Trouble', at the end we see Jessica actually instigate/suggest pattycake to Roger. And it wasn't in the cartoon she was starring in with him, it was after they were off set. So it does look like she does enjoy that sort of thing, but only with her husband. Again, I'm not ragging on anyone who sees her as ace, this is just my personal opinion.

I saw a post on here saying that Jessica's maiden name might be Krupnik, and that implies she's Jewish. And honestly, regardless if that's canon, I like it. I'll have to look into it more. Not necessarily a personal headcannon I guess, but I'll still add it.

Jessica wants to be a baker someday. Yes her main job is a singer and actress, but her real dream is to own a bakery. So far she's just baked for Roger and their neighbors, but she's getting there. And it's not just baked goods, she's a master with the frying pan. Cooking dinner together is one of hers and Roger's favorite at home dates (Disney, where's the Jessica Rabbit restaurant?)

This one i highly doubt is canon and I imagine would be difficult to figure out how it would work for toons, but I'll still share. Her hair kind of looked like it was ready to fly off when she and Eddie were driving out of Toontown, and that led me to this headcannon: Jessica has alopecia. She usually just sticks with red hair, but she'll wear different wigs based on what character she'll play in a cartoon (maybe it was Jessica playing as Hello Nurse from animaniacs?). And you all know Roger supports and adores her anyway and helps take care of her wigs. (I do know that some people just have wide foreheads or hairline, and I can see that with Jessica too! I just like imagining Roger reassuring Jessica she's beautiful no matter what).

I'm nor sure why, I have no reason to think this, but I like the idea that she and Smartass used to be friends before the events of the movie. Who knows, maybe he gave her relationship advice from his last marriage. I'm not sure what would have happened between them, (aside from you know, framing her husband for murder and trying to get him killed), but I do crack-headcannon that he wasn't her best man (man of honor?) at the wedding, and that's what made them enemies.

I think that Jessica genuinely likes to be beautiful. She doesn't like the attention and judgment that comes with it of course, but frankly that says more about the people around her than her herself. She likes putting on her makeup in the morning, she likes wearing her dresses, she likes styling herself. And not just her own cosmetics, I can imagine she likes picking out new furniture for the house (not all the time, just when it's needed), and she loves helping Roger put together his outfit for the day. There's nothing wrong with styling oneself, and Jessica can preach to the choir on that one.

Speaking of the choir, Jessica volunteers at singing classes to help others with their own voices. She's a very sweet teacher and will offer tips on how to stretch your voice or sing those high notes without strainging yourself too much (What if this is how she and Roger met? He went to a class she was helping out in, and they hit it off?).

This was seen somewhat in the squeal comic Resurrection of Doom. I think Jessica has a soft spot for horror films. Specifically the classic horror films like Frankenstein or Dracula. She's not a die hard horror fan, but she does enjoy them from time to time. She knows Roger doesn't like them though, so she won't force him to watch them with her. But of course, he loves her just as much as she loves him, so he'll still watch them with her, as long as she holds him during the scary scenes.

This is kind of a darker headcannon; just mentions of drugging, but proceed with caution. In the club, or when she's out, she'll keep an eye out for any suspiciously fizzy or cloudy drinks. She has lost count of how many times she's caught someone trying to roofie somebody else, and she'll teach others how to look out for bad drinks. She mentions in the deleted scene that someone tried to break in her dressing room once, so who knows how many times someone tried to drug her as well? Needless to say, she doesn't play around with that shit (if I could draw, I would definitely draw her punching a roofie user in the face)

Any questions anyone has, I'm more than happy to answer! ^^

#Jessica Rabbit #WFRR #Who Framed Roger Rabbit #my own headcannons #Disney #demisexual #LGBTQ #Roger Rabbit #alopecia #Smartass Weasel #Toon Patrol #keep an eye out for Roger headcannons #of course i cant post just Jessica and not post Roger.#tw drug mention #Disney Heros

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lost-jams · 10 months

Text

Brushes And Beats chapter 04

pairing: JiminxReader

genre: fluff with a pinch of angst

trope: enemies to lovers

:That awkward moment when your crush laughs at your life choices:

In the midst of my internal turmoil, Fumi walked into Starbucks, her eyes searching the crowded room until they landed on me, whIle I shot her a 'HELP' look.

"Before we start, do u want something?" she asked "I didn't bring much money with me, I already had a large frappuccino a while ago" She raised her brow "I asked do u want something, not if u had money with you"

"I'll have what you'll have" I replied sheepishly, while feeling her piercing eyes.

As we both settled at our table, she began "I have a theory, with your situation, you've been single for a long time. It has been 3 years since your last relationship, and you last got laid two years ago, you are a virgin again, and You are sexually frustrated, Jimn is an idol, he symbolizes everything you desire, but can't have it is only natural that you are drawn to him, also with all the time you spent with him"

"Wait, hold on a second, Fumi!" I interjected with an air of disbelief in my voice. "First of all, that's... that's not how virginity works. And secondly, that's a wild interpretation. Jimin is my... my aggravator! Yes, we spend a lot of time together, but that's work, not pleasure. And above all, it's more of mutual irritation than desire. Just because he's an idol doesn't mean I'm falling for him. The dream was ... weird, maybe disturbing, but it doesn't mean anything. So, put a lid on your wild theories, Fumi!" I concluded, hoping that my vehement denial would put an end to this conversation. Fumi simply smirked in response, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well, Y/n," she responded calmly, "Even the greatest denials often conceal the barest truths. Or as Freud would say, 'There are no mistakes.' Take your time, my friend. Things are not always as they seem at first." She then leaned back, her gaze never leaving mine, her smirk growing into a teasing grin, reveling in the shock written all over my face.

"Alright," Fumi began, her tone turning a bit more serious. "Y/n, it's not just about being single or sexually frustrated, though I believe those might be contributing factors. You spend countless hours with Jimin due to your work. You're privy to a side of him that others are not, including his flaws, vulnerabilities, and even those moments of unguarded sincerity. You've seen him at his best and worst. On top of that, yes, he's a pop star, which adds an allure, but there's also this... competition between you two. That adds a certain excitement and tension, doesn't it? It's not uncommon for feelings to get complicated in such circumstances. The line between love and hate is often very thin." Fumi concluded, her gaze steady on Y/n, awaiting her response

"No" I AM NOT ATTRACTED TO HIM...NO WAY

"Can you really not see anything engaging about him?" she retorted, her voice laced with frustration and exasperation. "Yes, I suppose, I can see how he might engage" A sudden flashback comes "a person" Due to my pause Fumi raised an eyebrow curiously, encouraging me to continue.

"That's not what I meant," I said quickly, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks as my mind drifted back...

We were helping Jimin to get unready after his concert, He didn't even have the strength to remove his makeup himself, so I volunteered to do it for him.

I could feel my eyes widening as Jimin slipped off his jacket, revealing a form-fitting t-shirt clinging to his well-toned body. It was a sight I was familiar with but never failed to stun me.

The fabric stretched over the defined musculature of his chest and arms, his biceps visible as he raised his arms to tie up his hair. The movement of his muscles evident and tantalizing under the soft lighting of our work studio. I gulped, my lips feeling suddenly dry.

Unconsciously, my eyes traced the line of his body, from his broad shoulders tapering down to his slender waist. He was lean and fit, a testament to the hours of strenuous practice he engaged in daily, the same ones I have witnessed for countless hours. Yet, there was an unintended eroticism in the way the shirt hugged his torso, and I blushed at my thoughts.

What was I doing? I looked away hastily, chiding myself for letting my gaze linger. This was Jimin, the one with whom I competed daily, my professional aggravation. But there was no denying the fact that he was attractive and seeing him like this stirred something within me I refused to acknowledge.

With a sudden gasp, I reluctantly disengaged from my thoughts, forcing myself to treat him as the vigilante he was, at least in public.

But now, I was beginning to question the true nature of my feelings, and against all better judgment, maybe the clash of rivalry and attraction wasn't as clear cut as it seemed. I shook my head, staring at Fumi "Find me a date" I blurted out, desperately hoping to distract myself from the confusing emotions that had taken hold of me. Fumi's eyes widened in surprise at my sudden request.

"Just open Tinder" she shrugged as she took a sip of her drink.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Left..left...left...I swiped left on profile after profile, not genuinely interested in finding a date but desperately attempting to divert my attention from the unexpected turmoil within me. As I swiped through the endless sea of potential matches, my mind kept drifting back to Jimin. Swiping through the endless sea of potential matches, a sense of unease and guilt settled in my chest. I don't like this.

"Are we looking for mates, birdy?" My finger froze when I heard Jimin's voice from behind.

Caught off-guard, I quickly tried to pretend I wasn't startled. "Just sorting through some...messages," I blurted out, my voice noticeably higher than usual. "And, for your information, staring at people's screens over their shoulder is considered intrusive." I raised an eyebrow, urging him to back off. "In fact, it's generally regarded as rude."

As always, Jimin remained unfazed by my words, his lips curving into a knowing smile. Somehow, his smirk only added to my annoyance... and strangely, my nervousness.

Gaining composure, I face Jimin with a forced nonchalant smile.

"Intrusive, huh?" he chuckled, his eyes still locked on mine. "And here I thought we were past formalities, Birdy." His tone was playful yet with a hint of a challenge. "Besides," he continued, "I was simply curious about who will be unlucky enough to capture your attention." The way he said it, it felt like he was testing me, pushing my boundaries. I bit down on my lower lip, not sure how to respond.

"Ahh, yeah, I'm sure you're just dying to know who's captured my attention," I replied sardonically, my tone dripping with sarcasm. Jimin chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. I turned my attention to my phone and immediately swiped right on the first person I saw. " There, this is my mate"

Jimin tilted his head slightly, an intrigued expression on his face. "Really? This quick?" He asked, trying to take a peek at my screen. His eyes lightly fluttered in surprise as he got a glimpse of the profile I had just swiped right on. A laugh escaped his lips then, a genuine, full-bodied one with his head thrown back and his eye wrinkles showing.

"Wow, Birdy. I didn't know you had such...interesting taste," he said with a teasing smile, ruffling his hair as he continued to laugh, "Can't wait to meet the lucky one at the concert after-party!" His final words echoed in my head as he walked away, still chuckling. The unexpected turn of events left me stunned, my gaze fixed on the spot where Jimin stood just moments ago, leaving me questioning if that was a hint of jealousy I sensed in his remarks.

Why would he even be jealous.

Jimin's POV

I watched as she swiped right on her phone, pretending to have found someone she was interested in. She is such an open book at least to me. It has been 6 years we are working together and I know every little quirk about her. From her sarcastic tone to the way she bites down on her lip when she's nervous, I've become an expert at deciphering her behavior. But this time, something was different. She seemed guarded as if she was purposely trying to hide something from me. As I walked away, laughter bubbling up inside me, it was clear to me that something had changed between us. I couldn't shake off the feeling of jealousy that slipped into my remarks.

3 years ago, I realized that I was slowly falling for her, not just as a colleague or competitor, but in a way that blurred those professional boundaries. It was an inconvenient truth I tried to ignore, but now, seeing her potentially interested in someone else, I couldn't ignore it any longer. But she wasn't mine, to begin with, and I had no right to feel jealous or possessive over her. She already had someone in her life, someone who wasn't me- a fact that I had to accept and respect.

Then one day I saw her crying to Fumi, I tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but I couldn't help but catch snippets of what they were saying. "He cheated", she sobbed. My heart clenched as I listened, realizing that the person who had hurt her was the same one she had been dating. "He said he didn't see a future with me," she choked out between sobs.

I felt a surge of anger and protectiveness toward her, wanting to comfort her and make everything right. But I also knew that crossing those boundaries would only complicate things further.

I had a decision to make - to continue being her friend and confidante, or risk everything by revealing my true feelings. As I grappled with my emotions, I couldn't help but remember the Japanese woman's words about amae - the selfish expectation of being cared for without reciprocating.

It was clear to me that my feelings for her were more than just a simple crush. They had grown into something deeper and more profound. The jealousy I felt wasn't just a reaction to seeing her with someone else; it was rooted in my fear of losing her entirely.

And I am not letting her go.

To Be Continued...

chapter 03 || chapter 05

Hope you are having a great dayyyy!!!

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imjustabeanie · 2 months

Note

Here’s the infir for our trade:

My style has a rockstar gf vibe. Sometimes softer colours too. I'm hourglass shaped and almost curvy, but I spend lots of time training (MMA) so instead im lowkey athletic with some muscle. I've got dark gray almond shaped eyes and medium lengst wavy blonde wolfcut with (renee rapp-style) bangs. Ironically (for Hazbin) I often hear that I look Angel-like? Like, even from strangers on the street?? That or that I’m intimidating. Ngl, that strokes my ego a bit (as all the other times I had strangers compliment me, tho I try to be neutral abt it bc ofc I’m pretty), but idk what really makes me come across that way. Got some casual makeup on usually. I’ve got some scars and bruises from training, don’t mind most, not too fond of my scar from a sword fight (long story), bc it’s big (and I hate that somebody might think that I lost it; my ego >>> my body - with injuries like that). Also, got a hidden tattoo. Yeah yeah, my youth group (idk how to actually say it in eng) doesn’t allow it, I’ve got my rep but give me some sweet hypocrisy as a treat (/hj), I think the tattoo looks awesome (yeah, it was diy). I’m social & extroverted. I write songs and am in a band. Other than that I like to tease ppl if given the opportunity; others say I’m flirty - bold with it at that. I’m ambitious too. I don't take shit from ppl, im far from meek. I have npd (if you want to look it up without reading scientific papers, go on tumblr, bc the rest of the internet is filled with ‘demonic narcissism’ bullshit) and it influences the way I am. I care lots about my image, don’t have a ton of empathy etc. I don’t kick puppies, but it‘s noticeable how I lack in this department. Sometimes people say I’m ’too nice to have it’ cause i do well with kids and do all the youth group volunteering. Kinda skeptical of serious romance cause I had lots of it & I don’t mix well with a lot of people. Maybe I could do something serious for once if I had the right person. I try to be responsible and respectful but I have no issue finding my place at a wild party or something. I can be soft-er if I want, like with children or ppl I’m close with (I've got many friend groups but struggle to make meaningful connections). Usually I just stay my analytical, laid-back self and say my silly little comments every once in a while. Heard I’m pretty funny if I want to be. My love language is acts of service. I like small things and I do them a lot. I can do praise too, but I don't care for it in return. Like, you can be an asshole (up to a limit, I know my worth) and it’s cool with me if I see you have your ways of caring like putting on a song I like in the car. Unrelated but some say I’m kinda closed off and ‘mysterious’ or wtv . Hate it when people push me to open up and be emotional; love music and I unironically had a few guys play songs AT me and I actually like that too, tho I get why ppl clown on it; despise the ‘I can fix them’ trope, it just feels wrong; obvi love my band, we are awesome; Deal breakers r: boring ppl, too romantic or sentimental, ppl who can't be casual with me, ppl who only approach me bc of my looks (yeah they are important, but my personality’s too good to ignore in the long run, come on), for Hazbin - no Val. I like ppl who are more negative than me and aren't afraid to shittalk everything. Just saying whatever, not caring if they offend ppl (up to a point, some issues aren’t debatable ik). I like to join in sometimes. They have to be at least a little funny. And determined abt their goals, like a lot, no matter what it is. Don't really care for morality (to a certain point, again) if you're charismatic and fun to be around, I’m along for the ride and happy to support whatever you get yourself into. Like, my perfect dynamic is usually when the other person says the wildest shit and I just go like ‘yeah, go baby’. Ppl try to argue? I pull out the ‘who?… who cares?’ card.

1/2, just a few sentences got cut

-★🎶

Hellooooo! Here's my part of the trade!

Your match for hazbin hotel is.....Velvette! With Adam as a close runner up lol

Okay so as I said in messages, Velvet would be a perfect match for you (with adam as your very close runner up). You said you don’t like sentimental or boring people but you like them ambitious and audacious. Tell me how it’s not our dear Velvette. Now okay, given her little screentime there’s a chance she approached you first for your looks but put her in her place and there you go. A nice enemies to lovers’ story. Who asked the other one first? Her. She was pushed to the edge by the other V’s teasing.

Something that fits you both in the relationship is that you don’t expect the lovey dovey atmosphere. It’s more like…that’s my demon, fuck off. She likes that you retaliate and doesn’t get hurt easily because she won’t have to watch her words. It’s not uncommon to find both of you bickering but if anyone dared to try and side with one of you they’d get hurt. Velvette love language is probably gifts and fancy dates. She likes it when you do small things for her and will show it off by saying find a better lover than mine or something similar. Your relationship will be public but the amount of photoshoots you two do together depends on you, she won’t force you into an influencer life.

Now Velvette likes your style and you two give me the same vibes. But you know what she likes more? Matching outfits with you. She will probably offer to do your make up for you if you let her. As for the tattoos, if the relationship gets serious then she will get one for you. In private, she does fuss over the bruises you get during training and even proposes to….take care of your opponents. If you do any matches she will clear her schedule and assist.

Besides her brutal honesty, Velvette is the best critique you could ask for. She will help out your band as much as she can. Leave the costumes and decorations to her lol. Now onto some personal headcanons, I think that Velvette would enjoy a lover that’s stronger than her (physically. In termof powers idk) but wouldn’t abuse it. Someone who’d pick her up and spin, her around or just someone with who she can get lost in their arms in private. A lover who won’t judge her and accept her with all her flaws. I also think she’s the type that enjoys late car rides with full on music to destress. But for all of this to happen and for her to let her real walls down the relationship would have to become serious. You’re both in it for fun and it’s easy to get backstabbed in hell after all.

Hope you like it. I tried to include everything

#matchups #match ups #hazbin hotel

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unhinged-summer-fun · 1 year

Text

Having a bit of fun thinking of uhhhhhhhhhhh hashtag Alpha in position Javier Peña

Cw omegaverse, au Javi (not in DEA lol), f!reader, wip

“Don’t even think about it,” Steve chuckled, readjusting his vest.

“How do you know what I’m thinking about?” Javier asked, eyes unmoving from their new point of interest.

“You only stand like that when there’s a tight pair of someone else’s pants you want to get into.” Steve looked up and fixed his partner with a deadpan stare, daring him to argue, but a flicker of amusement remained beneath the man’s expression.

Javier rolled his eyes but finally looked away from the pretty omega down at the edge of the triage tents going up. “So? We’re not on each other’s payroll.”

“Even if it weren’t a crazy fucking violation of the spirit of our contracts—”

“We using Ouija boards at work now?”

“—shut up—”

“Oooh, spooky tac vest, Murphy.”

“Fuck off, man. You don’t wanna get ten feet near that one.”

“That’s a bit archaic, even for you,” Javier said, crossing his arms and looking back at the omega, who had disappeared into a tent while he’d been teasing but was emerging now. She wore a pinched kind of expression, displeased by something he couldn’t see, until a broad-shouldered volunteer ducked past the tent flaps with a huge smile on his face. Untaken hints, probably.

“It’s not even that. I don’t doubt your pull, I don’t doubt her push just as much. She’s not interested.”

“What, you try?”

The omega whipped her head around and snapped something at the man—beta-leaning alpha or the other way around I’ll bet—but it didn’t deter the silly grin one bit. From this distance, Javier could see the buffoon’s eyebrows wiggle up and down.

“No. But I’ve had to pull her off enough upstart alphas who couldn’t take no for an answer that—”

“Walk me through that again?”

“I said, or you can just watch this scene play out, if this alpha doesn’t about face and hoof it in about ten seconds he’s gonna be left with the kind of omega handful that comes in a fist.”

“Well,” Javier shrugged, unfazed by the assessment his friend had drawn. He heard a sharp bite of tone on the wind, the words too far to make sense or shape, but the anger in the woman’s face and on her scent made it clear in no uncertain terms what she thought about the other man’s advances.

The other man thought this meant he could kiss her.

“Murphy, Murphy, put me down!” you screeched, trying to get back at the stupid idiot who had crossed the line.

“Nope, we’re not doing that, punchy.”

“My nose! You broke my fucking nose!”

“Come here, I’ll break it back,” you snarled, making another lunge at Lyle. The alpha wisely flinched back at your rage, before scurrying off to someone who would set the nose without asking many questions.

Having a makeup of nearly one-to-three omegas-to-alphas on the trip was fucking rough. With betas making up 80% of the rest, it wasn’t much of a surprise that you were singled out by the other cardinalities. What mostly started as a weak and watery bid to “look out for one another” always, always ended in “my biology told me to” or some other shit excuse.

You weren’t raised to let that fly, not for you and not for anybody else.

Steve Murphy was an annoying reoccurrence in your habitual dispensing of justice, however.

“If I put you down, are you going to run?”

“No.”

He didn’t budge. “Are you sure?”

Fuck. “Maybe.”

“Let’s give him a bit more of a head start, then. Javi, come help me out.”

Murphy’s partner, Javier Peña, had only been attached to your unit for a few weeks, but you’d seen him absolutely mowing down the ranks of volunteers with that headstone-straight, tomb-white smile and those deep dark grave-brown eyes of his that drove just about everyone crazy.

But not you.

Surely not.

“Put me down,” you said, in your most defeated voice. “That’s not necessary.”

“What’d he do this time?” Murphy asked, readjusting his vest now that you weren’t fucking with the Velcro.

“Asked me when my next heat was. If I was lonely.” You picked up the crates Lyle had been carrying out with a grunt. “Then he tried Voicing me.”

“He what?” Peña said, aghast. His voice was lovely, dark and deep in a Robert Frost forest kind of way, and you had to fight not to answer him.

“At least he knows he can’t mess with me now. And by nightfall all the other omegas will know, and the mission manager.” You were thorough in your scorched-earth approach to serial harassers like Lyle. You’d met omegas who were even more hardened than you were, but in a caretaking field like this medical outreach program, you had to temper your kindness with resilience.

Damn, were you tired.

“You need someone to walk you back to your tent?” Peña asked. Murphy sucked in a tense breath, not quite a gasp but close enough to one.

“Don’t insult me,” you muttered, before strutting off, thinking of cemeteries.

#unhingery #javier peña x reader #f!reader

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raggellion · 2 years

Text

Morals: Chapter 7

Riff Lorton

Notes: hehehe this was… interesting to write.

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut

Words: 2.2k

Masterlist

———

I decided to sleep in some more, after all, I didn’t have work and I kinda wanted to continue my dream, that included some details about last night… maybe even some extras. I screwed my eyes shut, trying to wipe the grin off my face. A loud bang to my attic door forced my eyes open.

“Lily, are ya’ awake and decent?” Asked Tony from the other side of the door. Part of me wanted to pretend to be asleep but he probably would barge in anyway. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Wanna go get a milkshake at Cubby’s?”

Ok, a milkshake doesn’t sound too bad right about now…

“Yeah, sure. Give me a couple minutes to get ready.” I called out to him and quickly sprinted to my bathroom.

The outfit I chose was a simple black top with some shorts. My hair was styled in a high ponytail and I didn’t bother to apply any makeup to my face.

I walked downstairs as Tony looked at me with a sheepish grin. “What?” I asked defensively, to which he also puts his hands up in defense. “Nothin’, nothin’.”

We exit Docs with an awkward tension in the air. I feel Tony stealing glances at me from time to time, lips still pressed into that stupid smile. I turn to him, annoyed. “Tell me what’s going on, Tony.” I snap. He starts to laugh and my face burns bright red. “How about ya tell me what going on instead… either you was watching a movie with someone that sounds exactly like Riff, or the guy was in yer room last night.”

My face flushes with embarrassment. He continues, “God that's so weird to think my best guy friend and my best girl friend sleeping togetha’.”

I nearly choke at his words. “We did not sleep together!” Tony raises his eyebrow at me.

“I mean we slept… But that's all we did.”

“But why?”

“That’s a great question, Tone.” I say, cracking a genuine smile. “I know Val tells me that he’s dangerous and I should stay away but… when I’m with him, I-“ “feel like you’re falling?” He interrupts and I softly nod.

“We haven’t done anything yet… not even kissed and somehow I just feel this.. connection to him. But I’m half Puerto Rican and he’s a jet and- I don’t know where to go from here.” I confess and Tony slightly smiles. “How ‘bout I introduce ya’ to Maria? She’ll tell ya all about it.” He laughed and I found myself laughing along. “Look,” he continues. “I may not know what’s goin’ on in Riff’s brain 24/7, but I do know that he is absolutely smitten with ya. Known it from the first day ya met.” He says rather proudly.

Tony and I enter the restaurant and take a seat at a free table. “Hey Lily,” Tony starts and I hum in response, still looking over the choices of milkshake flavors. “How come I’ve lived here all my life, yet I’ve never really met you before all this?” He asked softly.

“Well… my family lived in an apartment in the same building as Valentina,” I explain. Neither the jets or the sharks went there. While I was able to see Tony or Riff from afar, they never saw me.

I continue,”When my parents died, I moved in with her. And then when tío Doc passed, things would get a little hectic so I volunteered to move in at Doc’s… which exposed me to all sorts of… trouble.” I say the last part teasingly.

“Do you remember ‘em? Yer parents?” Tony asked softly. “I was 7 so the memory comes and goes. I have one specific memory of my father and I. I was on his shoulders and I just remember laughing at the way eyes would look when he looked up at me.”

Images of my father, lovingly looking up at me flashed through my mind; eyes shining the same green color as my own.

A pretty waitress with short brown curls came over to take our order. “Hi! Welcome to Cubby’s, what can I get ya today?” She said with a bright smile on her face.

“I’ll get a chocolate shake.” Tony says. I look at the menu for the first time, instantly knowing what I want. “I’ll get a berry blast shake with extra whipped cream please.” I say and Tony starts laughing. “What?” I ask, defensively.

“Berry blast, huh? Make that two chocolate shakes.” A familiar voice taunts from behind me. Oh gosh. Riff motions for me to scoot over in the booth, taking a seat as I did so.

Tony meets him with a fist bump. “Yo what’s up man. Glad ya made it.” He invited Riff?

Riff turns his head to look at me but I keep my gaze straight in front of me. “Yeah me too, buddy boy. Had a great night. Only fitting to start off with a bang.” He says as his eyes burn holes into me.

Tony eyes us with humor in his gaze. The waitress comes back over with our shakes and I’m relieved that the focus between us 3 is now located elsewhere.

The woman hands me my drink and I immediately take the straw out and use it to spoon whipped cream into my mouth.

“Woahh. This is all going in here.” Tony whistles, pointing to his stomach. He begins to greedily slurp at the drink.

I swiftly twirl the red and white straw between my fingers as I continue to pick up a bit of whipped cream and plop it in my mouth, awkwardly lapping the cream off the straw. Riff’s eyes stayed glued to me, and I couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t touched his shake. His hand was in a tight fist that popped his veins out. My eyes slowly reached up to meet his. His jaw clenched, eyes stayed focus on my every move. He looks uncomfortable… or sick. What did I do now? “Are you okay?” I ask, softly.

He lightly nods and looks away after screwing his eyes shut for a few moments. A gnawing feeling built up in my lower stomach. Did I make him feel upset? He was fine a moment ago. My gaze dropped to my lap. What di- then I noticed it.

His trousers restricted his growing arousal as a tent formed in his crotch area. I avert my eyes quickly, but it’s too late. I watch as Riff smirks at me from the corner of my eye. A rosy blush spreads, confirming my embarrassment.

“Yo… Mar��a!” Tony calls, staring past us to the glass window. Great. Just great. “I’ll see ya guys later.” He said and rushed out the door, slapping a 20 dollar bill on the table. Well at least he covered for our bill too. I steadily sipped at my blue drink as Riff and I both stayed silent. He quickly gulped his down within a couple seconds.

“Can we go?“ I ask quietly. He nods and stands up from the booth, offering me a space to slide out. I pretended not to notice as Riff subtly covers his obvious erection, that he knows I saw.

The silence nearly swallowed me whole as we walked, shoulder to shoulder. I’ve never been in a situation where a boy has this type of reaction to me. It ignited a flame somewhere inside of me and tingled all the way down to my core.

I practically shoved Riff in my attic the second we got to Doc’s. I was particularly grateful that Valentina was in the basement at the moment. She didn’t have to witness him entering my room, trying to cover up what looked like a painful erection.

I pressed Riff up against the door, leaning closer with every passing second. I’ve never wanted him more. The desire, the hunger for him gnawed at my core, my lips, my most intimate areas.

“Lily,” he said, stopping me. He lightly grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back. What is he doing? Did he stop being attracted to me within the 24 hours we were last together? My face stung with shame and I walked away, taking a seat on the bed. My eyes met with the ground and they dared not to look up any more.

Riff rushed over to me, crouching right in front and cupping my face with his hands. He tilts my chin up to look at him. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to just because you saw.” He says softly. He doesn’t understand. I’ve never felt this way before. Fully consumed with desire for him. To taste him, feel him, smell him, see him, hear him.

He stands up straight now, ready to walk away, but I grab his hand. My face is eye level with his crotch.

My heart thuds in my chest. I’ve never done this before. What if I get it wrong? What if I can’t make him feel good? What if I’m just bad at everything all together.

My hand shakily comes up to palm Riff through his trousers. A groan comes from his throat. I look up for any sign of protest, but there weren’t any. Riff’s eyes were glued on me, filled with lust. He gives me a small nod. I continue to palm him through the trousers, small stifled groans unleashing here and there.

I trail my hands up, my fingers dancing around the waistband of his trousers. My heart pounds in my chest as I get bolder. I slowly dip my fingers below the waistband, slowly pushing my hand into the warmth underneath.

I wrap my fingers around his manhood and slowly start to pump him, still from inside his trousers. My eyes widened at the size. Woah, that’s big.

I was frightened to pull the trousers down, to see what was underneath.

My hands continued massaging the soft, warm skin. It moved easily, with each back and forth motion that I performed. Riff’s groans were louder now, he struggled to silence them, clenching his jaw every now and then.

It’s time. I slowly pull down the trousers, firstly revealing a patch of light blond, curly hair on his pubic bone. I go further, pulling his trousers down even more to reveal his throbbing erection. The veins showed his arousal even more as his hard dick pointed straight out, facing me.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, breathlessly.

I wrap my hand around the base of his dick and continue to pump faster now. His groans grow consistent and faster. Here goes nothing.

I take the soft pink head of his cock between my lips, slowly pushing him further and further into my mouth. The taste of his skin was satisfying, soothing every urge that previously told me to jump his bones. Every urge except one… my core throbbed and ached for him. Riff moaned, loud and vocal this time.

I broadened my tongue as I bobbed my head back and forth, brushing against the underside of his dick. Riff’s fingers played with the ponytail on my head.

“Lils… I-I’m about to finish. Ya don’t g-gotta swallow if ya don’t wanna.” He struggled to make out, but my mouth remained on him, sucking and licking to give him the pleasure he needed.

His breathing became irregular, quickening as he finished, spurting his hot liquid down my throat. I coughed, choking on the liquid as he fixed himself into his trousers and collapsed on the bed.

“God damn Lils. Where’d ya learn to do that?”

“Heard about it, I guess.”

The truth is, before moving into Docs, my friends would tell me all about their experiences with various different shark members. I’d always feel different from them, like I was the only one who hadn’t done those things… but hey, at least I picked up some experience for my firsts.

“Ya never done somethin’ like that before, have ya?” He asked softly and I shook my head.

“Well then I gue-“ “Lily!” Tony interrupted from downstairs. “Come down! I got a surprise for ya.”

“I’ll be right down!” I yell back, silently urging Riff to get up. He makes his way toward the window.

“Wait,” I call to him and he turns around to face me. “I’ll see you later?”

A bright smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “That you will, Lils.” He says and then disappears through the window.

I sigh, a small grin forming on my lips. What just happened?

I make my way downstairs to see what Tony has to show me. There he stands, smiling near the counter. As I get further downstairs, I see someone is with him. A pretty girl with a tan complexion and the prettiest thick black hair. Maria. I could tell why he was so smitten with her. She’s beautiful. “Lily,” Tony said giddily.

“This is Maria. Maria, this is Lily.”

Maria smiles brightly at me and I reciprocate. “Hi! I’ve heard so many great things about you!” She says. Her accent is strong and melodic. “I can say the same about you as well! Nice to meet you.” I say, complying as she extends for a hug.

Maria is lively, funny, smart, witty. As I talked to her, it seemed like she brought out the best in Tony. However I couldn’t say my mind was fully with the conversation. How could it be, with the lingering taste in my mouth and the new vivid memories that made my core ache and clench uncontrollably.

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#mike faist riff #riff fanfic #riff imagine #riff lorton #riff raff #riff west side story #riff wss #riff x oc #tony wss #tony wyzek #riff west side story 2021 #west side story 2021 #tony west side story #valentina west side story #west side story

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unchained-hound-dog · 2 years

Note

Hiii Austin x younger reader who is constantly referencing TikTok and he’s so confused haha or like doing trends on him like leaving without saying I love you to see his reaction

Here you go love!

Austin often teased your younger age as being the reason you could reference tik-toks at any given moment of the day, and why he would just look at you as though you were insane. You'd always wanted to get him involved in a tiktok video but you knew he would never volunteer to be apart of one, the boy hardly appeared on his own social media, never mind someone elses!

'Okay so today I'm gunna do that trend where you leave without saying 'I love you' to your partner because even if we're just going to put the bin out, we always say it, so I think Aus' reaction will be good' you spoke quietly to the camera whilst hidden in your wardrobe, knowing Austin was downstairs making his morning coffee.

'Morning gorgeous' You'd set your phone up in the hallway, a perfect view of the kitchen island but not visable for Austin to see.

'Morning baby, made you a coffee' He slides the mug in front of you as you stand at the island, making sure you're in shot.

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppering gentle kisses to your neck 'I love you' he whispers, you're not sure the camera would pick it up it was so quiet.

'My mom called last night saying she wants to do a shopping day, what are your plans?'

He lets it slide, maybe you didn't hear him, so he goes on to tell you how he needs to go record some voice-overs then he'd agreed to lunch with one of his friends.

You both went about your mornings, getting ready to leave. You were stood in the downstairs bathroom, your phone ready to record as you knew Austin would come in to say goodbye before he left. You quickly hit record when you heard him call you from the other room.

'Okay I'm heading out, text me' he presses a kiss to your cheek as you apply your foundation on the other cheek.

'Mkay, bye baby' you shoot him a quick smile before going back to doing your makeup

'I love you' he looks at you in the mirror as you shoot him another smile and nod

'Bye baby' you say again and watch as his confused face leaves the bathroom and slowly goes out the door.

You're about to turn the camera off when you hear his footsteps retreating, you stand the camera against one of the holders on the side and watch as Austin comes back in the room.

'Have I done something?' he asks, watching as you look at him through the mirror.

'Like what?' you raise your brow slightly at him

'I know it's not your birthday, it isn't our anniversary, but I keep saying I love you and you're not saying it back' he huffs, leaning against the wall next to you

'You haven't done anythig baby, sorry' you go back to working on your make-up.

'Okay, I love you' he stares at you, waiting for a reponse.

'Okay' you smile again, this time Austin moves to grab your waist, tickling you begging you to tell him what he's done wrong. In between fits of laughter you point at your phone, his movements hault when he realises he's on camera and you turn to grab the phone, moving it so it's pointing at him

'Damn kids and your damn tik-tak trends' he huffs again, turning to leave the room

'I love you!' you shout, watching as he dramatically walks off.

'Hope you guys enjoyed this tik-tok cause I'm gunna be oweing him one for a long time' you laugh to the camera before turning it off.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine

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chocolate-teapots · 2 years

Text

The Wingwoman: Kim Taehyung

●╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮●

You have a natural talent at playing cupid except when it comes to yourself. What happens when your next arrow is pointed at someone who used to be yours? Afterall, how much grinning and bearing can one do on a double date?

●╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯●

Warnings: sexual tensionnnn af, swearing through this frustrating mess, mentions of smut, flirty insatiable Taehyung, aims to schedule dick appointments, garlic condoms, second lead Jimin, this fucking pic, lots of eye-fucking, mentions of drugs, casual alcohol consumption, under table touches.

Meg carefully sculpted her lips with a bright glossy red, so close to the mirror I thought she'd go through it. Her nose made a funny little fog mark on it.

"Thank you so much for coming with me tonight, I just know I'd be much more at ease if you were there too," she spoke through the silly faces she pulled in her makeup application.

I watched her from the far corner, leaning against her wardrobe with my arms crossed in a casual way. This was just another night for me but this wasn't just another night for Meg.

"So, don't leave me in the dark anymore tell me about him," I asked curiously as she cleaned up some of the eyeliner she dotted on her nose due to her shaking hand. "Who's this mystery man that's got you away from binging Derry Girls this weekend?"

"Well," Meg began enthusiastically putting her lip gloss in her bag, that crush of hers vibrated through her body like a shiver as she began to describe him "he's an art major, so handsome it hurts, loves animals, apparently he has a really big-"

I decided to strike this conversation just to distract her from the rash that was starting to take over the majority of her exposed body. I knew about the guy she was meeting tonight, I had to otherwise all wingwoman moves would be generalised and pointless. I hadn't seen him though but he sounds great.

Meg looked really good tonight and I didn't want to ruin her confidence by having her swell into some kind of raspberry marshmallow. She looked really loved up, transported back to our days in high school where she'd giggle shyly over boys and I'd walk up to them with ease and collect them for her like click and collect shopping.

I was sort of a professional wingwoman around college minus the formality and money. Since I was a kid I found it really easy to talk to people and understand their behaviour and I really loved the social aspect of it and meeting new people constantly.

Always the bridesmaid and never the bride.

There was only one time I had ever come close to blushing like Meg was right now and that was at a volunteering camp my art program did last summer. I'd like to tell you that I never thought about him but in reality, I don't think there was a day I hadn't thought about him and what we had at least once.

Maybe it was the thrill of hooking up with a stranger, the ticking clock of a summer that had to end or maybe it did start with the letter 'l' and end with 'e'.

He too was so handsome it hurt. We ended up hooking up once or twice or a hundred or so times and it was so good it hurt. Being with him was so fun it hurt, laughing so hard it hurt and leaving him- well that just hurt.

"-friends are pretty fun, he throws a lot of parties, he volunteers and he's amazing. I can't wait for you to meet him."

That flush had now dulled down to a subtle flattering pink that brought out her lipstick as she smiled.

"Plus," she grabs her bag "I heard his friend is a real cutie too so maybe we'll both get a nice dick appointment."

I chuckle at her subtle choice of words.

"Sure Meg, let's go sweetie."

With another one of her shivers, she pulls me out of her room and into the car waiting for us outside to take us to the bar they were waiting at. The plan was to have a few drinks at the bar first, per my suggestion, just so everyone could lighten up a bit then maybe if we felt like it we could go to the fancy sushi place next door that had booths and really nice lighting.

"He's only human Meg, right now he's just as nervous as you wondering if he'll fuck up or not. It's what makes us charming so relax," her knee stops bouncing at my smooth words but her hands still folded in the lap of her short dress but at least they weren't shaking anymore.

After pushing through the several couples conveniently blocking the view of the trendy purple lit bar, Meg's nerves finally begin to vanish almost as if she left them behind in the car after our little pep talk.

I did well.

I really liked this bar, usually recommending it to people if they asked me about dating advice or even if they wanted to be themselves for a while after a long dry week. I was a little nervous, a completely unknown face waiting for me to seduce him by the bar while another one would rely on me to make her the seductive one but the familiarity of the songs and campy glasses brought me back to my own reality.

"Wait! Meg you never told me his name-"

"There he is!" she squealed over the beat, running in her taller-than-usual heels right over to the bar where a tall dark man waited in the dimmest of lights.

Before I could catch her she was already there and by the time I had actually managed to walk over in my wide trousers, they were already chatting as if they didn't need me at all.

Meg walks back over to me ready to make introductions and I finally lift my head to study both of the men that would define the rest of the night.

And when I said define I meant ruin.

My eyes start at the polished dress shoes and trailed up to the long-legged black pants hiding built legs and a familiar waist, his almost sheer black patterned shirt was tucked precisely into it and unbuttoned slightly to showcase a beautiful golden neck and attached to it an equally beautiful face.

That face.

"Y/N this is-"

Kim Taehyung.

"Taehyung."

It was him.

Out of all the people, out of all the nights he could've chosen to show up again in my life why did he have to choose one that would really hurt my best friend in the process? He was more handsome than the picture my mind put together over the past year of remembering him and Meg was right; he was so incredible it hurt.

I thought he moved back to Paris.

"Nice to meet you Y/N," he almost laughed through his smirk, bowing his head towards me knowing that this was killing me inside. His voice.

"Likewise," I breathed through a I-can't-believe-this smirk and an I'm-getting-tf-out frown.

I remembered how in camp every time I saw him I just wanted to kiss him and jump all over him and this was no exception. I clear my throat at the memory, turning back to my friend who was counting on me to set up her with someone I fucked last year.

It was no big deal right?

"So, where's your friend?" I asked Taehyung, noticing how he was alone at the bar rather than with a friend who had to be better than him please for God's sake, please be better than him.

His eyes glisten beneath his honey-coloured hair at my question, lighter they were before, not turning once towards Meg the entire time that he knew that it was, in fact, me that was joining them tonight.

"Ah, he's running a little late, as usual, should be here any second. He's probably still doing his hair."

Meg giggles at his joke. It burned.

"Well, why don't you text him tell him not to bother? I'm sure you two would have a way better time-"

"No," Taehyung's deep voice cuts me off, he slithers his sleek arm around Meg's slender waist most likely relishing in my glare at the obnoxiously cute height difference and how his arm could wrap around her twice if he wanted to and the thought of her red lipstick smudged over his lips by the end of the night.

"Shall we?"

But I didn't.

I wasn't prepared to string my friend along like that and also ruin a potential boyfriend opportunity for her. I wanted to go. I wanted to transfer lives, run away, punch something.

The only man I'd ever come close to loving and he was unavailable.

But something told me that the way he smirked devilishly at me just like he did last year, his tongue lazily licking his lips, was not as friendly to me as I'd like to think.

It told me, he didn't mind.

By the time we had ordered our drink, a young man sauntered over to the bar greeting me warmly with a hella nice face and an even nicer figure.

"Jimin," I smiled, standing to kiss the fluffy-haired man's cheek. "You're my date?"

"Y/N," he beamed angelically, arm wrapping around my waist fondly. "When Taehyung said it was you I just had to tag along. It'll be fun!"

"As always."

And, Taehyung didn't realise then it was me? Of course not. He probably didn't even remember me before that point. I was the only psycho thinking about the pretty beauty spot on his lip when I was pouring my coffee in the mornings.

"Don't tell me Mina dumped you already?" I smirk teasingly, watching the pretty boy squirm at even the mention of her name. "Wasn't it just last month you were telling me how desperately in love with her you were?"

"Don't," Jimin whines pushing my shoulder "A lot can happen in a week."

Park Jimin was a good friend of mine. We were both in the department of arts but he was a dancer, a phenomenal one at that. A few weeks back I helped him land one of the new trainee dancers, Mina but obviously, it didn't work out so well.

It wasn't a surprise it didn't work out. Jimin was way too good for her.

In fact, I'd take to the court that Jimin was too good for anyone.

He leaned in, looking around the room for witnesses and releasing against my ear:

"She brought Garlic flavoured condoms."

I burst out laughing with him, heads flinging back and completely forgetting about the ghosts of Christmas past and present watching us in confusion.

"You two know each other?" Taehyung lifted his brow in confusion, eyes lingering on the limp arms Jimin and I had fondly wrapped around each other.

"Yeah, she's the best wing woman and friend on campus," I blush modestly at his enthusiasm, his hand resting warmly on my shoulder.

"Aish, get the drinks in before I accidentally fall in love with you Park Jimin."

Taehyung frowned and I, unfortunately, didn't miss it.

By drink two, we were swinging slightly flushed on barstools having one collective conversation about classes and school and friends and stuff though I did my best not to talk to Taehyung. I kept my focus on the smiling blonde and the dangerous gap in Meg's dress that she begged me to watch tonight.

Drink three had both of us couples into separate conversations and I desperately wanted to cross the barrier just to even know what Taehyung was thinking right now. I tried to distract myself for Meg and have a good night with the charismatic blonde next to me but I couldn't help but notice him drift away every time Meg's laugh would chime.

Was he jealous?

By drink four we had lept off of the bar stools and away from our separate conversations to unite at a dark booth in the intimate corner of the bar, where I once distracted myself from the thought of Taehyung by actually giving some guy an amazing-

"So Y/N, how did you and Meg meet?"

It was some of my best work.

Jimin and Taehyung wait for my answer and by the way he sipped his drink, it seemed that Taehyung knew exactly what I was thinking about at that very moment as the tiny grin steamed his cocktail glass.

If only he knew.

I stumbled back into the conversation but recovered with another sip of my own glass.

Trust Taehyung to drink cocktails too.

"Go on Meg, you say it better than I do," I said to the brunette who was visibly bouncing to talk more to Taehyung despite the fact her eyes were over this direction mostly.

Jimin made me very comfortable in the booth, giving me enough space between us so I wasn't forced into the wood beside me even though I chose to be. He really was a great guy and I felt almost guilty for not having someone here ready for him to whisk away into the moonlight.

Taehyung, however, made it pretty clear in Meg's little story that the thing he wanted more than anything was to get in my pants or at least my head again tonight by eye-fucking me into oblivion every time my name tumbled out of her immaculately painted lips.

"-and then I apologised for climbing into the wrong window in my underwear, stayed on her couch that night and we've been friends ever since."

She really was trying, even going as far as to shove the image of her in her underwear into his pretty brain but he wasn't having any of it. As she sips her drinks and talks more about the anecdote with my enthusiastic date, I glare at Taehyung motioning to Meg with my head over the rim of my glass.

Please just look at her.

He sighs subtly, dropping his game to start another charming conversation involving her.

Our first encounter.

It was cute to watch them talk but I knew it would never work even if I wasn't involved because she's not his type and really he isn't hers she just didn't know it yet. The thought of them maybe getting in a car together later...

We all decide to drop the restaurant as I predicted, having a couple of bar snacks scattered across the sticky table from where Jimin clumsily spilt his Vodka in a fit of laughter. Taehyung and I both took the lead by ordering for the table along with our 6th round of drinks and still the fact I was sitting across from an ex-fling on a double date was foggier to me than the alcohol was.

His legs were so long and spread out under the table, our knees collided awkwardly too many times to count under the influence of alcohol and that feeling alone felt better than whatever happened on this table with that guy that one time.

I couldn't even remember this name now.

My knees had to eventually rest between his delicious thighs and my head was very jealous.

"-and Professor Moon had no idea it was because we had the munchies."

Meg laughs and it wasn't just a giggle either, she really was interested in the story.

I grin at my friend, seeing a glimmer in her eyes that made all the times she came home crying because of a guy all better. Taehyung is really good for her and I can't ruin it.

But it didn't really seem as if I was the one trying to ruin things at all.

You see, above the table, things were all fun and light but underneath a smooth hand from the other side began to tickle my knee and the inside of my thigh.

"Ugh, speaking of munchies these fries are amazing," Meg implodes at the seasoned fries which were actually pretty good.

His hand tickles higher, massaging my skin so thoroughly I had to fight the eye roll. I glare at him through my fluster, my eyes saying one thing but my erratic pulse another.

"Try some Y/N you've barely touched them."

Jimin pushes the fries slightly my way but I was too flustered to do, say or eat anything. I was quite literally eating my thoughts.

"Yes Y/N," my name slipped from his lips like honey "You've been really quiet."

The feeling of his fingertips reaching for my soaked underwear and succeeding made me leap to my feet in a panic, knees and hips hitting every corner painfully.

"Okay! I'm going to the bathroom and I just stood abruptly cause I felt like telling everyone that..." I began to feel stupider and stupider the more I talked, "okay?"

Everyone turns to me with concern, even Taehyung as he wondered what he did so wrong on the enemy line. I do the walk of shame to the bathroom knowing that other people in the bar were probably looking at me too, scratching the back of my neck and every other bit of exposed skin that could be scratched to distract me from the flush.

I had never been so embarrassed or embarrassed at all in a place like this. He was getting into my head just like he wanted.

"Fuck."

I heaved in front of the wooden mirror, the dim lighting of the bathroom hiding the majority of my fluster except for the crazed look in my eyes. I could see his smirk and his fake laughter with Meg. At least I was finally alone to let it all out before I'd return normally to the table and blame it on the vodka or something.

How long did this have to last? Did I break a mirror or accidentally murder someone or something? I mean what have I done to deserve this?

But, I was here for Meg. That couldn't change.

With newfound determination, I was ready to face the table again.

Then he walks into the empty bathroom, locking the main door behind him as if I'd be relieved to see him.

And I was sorry to say, I was.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snapped at him in the mirror, resting against the sink and turning to face him with crossed arms.

I wish I hadn't.

His eyes are still warm even under no light, the sheerness of his shirt making me want to remember every little detail of our days and nights together. Like I'd ever forgotten. The alcohol made his cheeks redden into a perfect flush and there was an extra shimmer in his eyes.

What was he doing to me?

"I think it's pretty clear," Taehyung places either hand on the counter by my hips, leaning so close that I could trace very detail in the chain of his earring and even feel the tickles of his glossy fringe against my forehead. "Don't you?"

My harsh gaze doesn't weaken.

"You're meant to be on a date with my friend," I tell him off which he loved, frustration taking over me to the point where I actually sound like a girl for once- a girl with feelings at least. "Not seducing me!"

"Why? Is it working?" he cheekily catches his lip between his teeth while he plays with my fingers, the cool metal of his rings somehow soothing my burning skin.

When did my hands get there?

The laughing, the drinking, the two dates at the same time. It was all too much!

"Kind of- I mean wait no!"

I drop his hand trying to back away as much as I could, despite the fact his hips were kinda trapping me against the counter. Was there really no angry women outside dying for a piss right now?

Taehyung finally gets serious, giving me some space.

"Look, your friend is cute and all but I never thought I'd see you again Y/N and you've been driving me insane for a year and now you're here well- I want to do it all over again," he admits breathlessly and exhausted, filling the room with the silence that is meant to be kissed through.

"For a year I haven't been able to do anything, not even brush my teeth or drink my coffee without thinking about you and what we have."

How could I possibly know he wasn't lying to me? What if I was just another lay? I mean, did I really know him?

"So, what do I say? Oh sorry Meg, your date is bailing because we hooked up before and now he wants to do summer camp the remix with me? Is that okay with you? Enjoy your soufflé!" I mocked, making him laugh not only at me but at the situation.

I ended up joining him until he forced me to stop by tangling our hands together again. His hands were always so pretty and I'd stare at them on the dock outside our cabin in Naples. I felt as if I was overlooking the water with him again and drowning in it at the same time.

"I'm saying I'm sure she'd understand."

I knew he was right, it was the right thing to do for me but if she didn't that's years of friendship wasted for some guy. What if Taehyung and I never worked out? It would all be for nothing.

"Ugh," I groan throwing my head back in frustration "She's really into you man."

"Sometimes, you have to put yourself first," he takes a hand and runs it through a stand of my hair, making me melt against the spot at his boldness. His deep whispers hum inside of me.

Was he always this charming?

"When have you ever done that? Huh?"

"Let's just see how this night goes okay? I'll probably never see you again. Be nice to her, please? For me?" I beg through an awkward smile to try and hide my desperation.

Taehyung must've thought it was kinda cute or something as he sighs in defeat, his shining plump lips kissing my nose through an amused chuckle as his hands hold me in place though I wasn't planning on running.

"Tonight."

We went back to the table together in silence, ready to face the suspicious looks from both of our dates as to why we'd come out of the bathroom together and why I had looked like I just got caught watching porn by my teacher.

Taehyung walked slightly ahead of me, stopping dead in his tracks once our table came into view and his shoulders dropped in... relief? In concern, I walk to his level with a furrowed brow and audibly gasp with my hand attaching to his shoulder automatically.

Making both of us feel luckier than ever was the sight of my date and my friend ferociously making out the dark booth and the music and the lighting failed to conceal every part of it.

Taehyung and I turned to look at each other before letting out a laugh so genuine it hurt. I held my snickers in his shoulder, naturally touching his chest as he hugged my waist with the same deep chuckles. We decided in each other's embrace, feeling just as good as it did before, to leave them be and face the music tomorrow not wasting any more time thinking of reasons why we shouldn't when obviously the world thought we should.

"Let's get out of here," Taehyung whispered, leading us both away from the funny scene with even funnier things in mind.

And that night was so good that it didn't hurt anymore since I wouldn't have to leave him again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagines #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung x reader

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