#maybe they thought it was funny when you were quiet. that nothing really bad would come from it. fun for them. eh for you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi darling 🥰 I love, absolutely love the way you write Eddie and I have an idea for a fic! Maybe reader is Eddie's best friend forever (she has the same style, taste in music, also plays D&D, has tattoos, colorful hair) she is also in love with Eddie, but for some reason she thinks Eddie is attracted to cheerleaders and would never pay attention to her sooo she gets quiet and closed off, she's hurt and sad, she feels not enough but our dear boy finally gets the truth out of her and shows her his love, that she's the only one who really matters to him 🥹 If you are ok with it they have romantic sex but no pressure! Love ya!

AN | Friends to lovers! Fools in love! Requited pining 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He had a pretty smile. A really fuckin’ pretty smile.

It had been one of the first things you’d noticed about him when you met him as an awkward pre-teen. Now it was one of your favorite things about him. Among everything else, but you know, that wasn’t important. Sure, you were in love with Eddie Munson, also known as your best friend, but that was beside the point. Well…maybe it was the whole point.

But none of that mattered. Because while you were in love with your dorky, funny, and hot best friend, nothing was ever going to change. While you were like him in so many ways, and people always presumed the two of you were dating (to which Eddie liked to remind people that you were platonic with a capital p), you were absolutely not his type. God, it's brutal out here.

No, his type was soft, ultra feminine, pastel pretty girls, bonus points if they were cheerleaders. If you had to sum it down to a singular person, Chrissy Cunningham fit the bill. And, honestly, you couldn’t even blame him. Not only was she pretty, smart, and funny, she was also kind. She’d never had so much as a singular rude thing to say and that made you want to hate her even more. Eddie was infatuated with her and all you were was his best friend. And it fucking sucked.

No matter how hard you tried to get over him, by hooking up with other people, trying to expand your interests to include other people, and even - for just a horrible moment - you’d tried to change yourself to be more his type, it never worked. Your thoughts, feelings - your heart - always went back to him.

Eventually you’d had enough and decided that it was time to make a change. Even though you knew it would break your heart, you decided that this was the only way you’d ever get over him.

You had to create a divide, to set a distance and boundaries between the two of you. It was going to hurt at first, but that would pass, hopefully, one day and perhaps you’d both be better.

That was the plan in your head anyway…too bad life decided not to play by your little plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sweetheart,” ugh. Your heart cracked at the sound of the sweet pet name he’d always called you. Normally you liked it…normally when you weren’t trying to avoid him. He slid into the seat next to you, elbow on the table as he rested his chin in his hand. You could feel him staring at you before he reached over and delicately twisted a lock of your hair around his pinky, “new color. I like purple, it looks pretty.”

“T-thanks,” you swallowed thickly before staring down at your tray, your appetite slowly disappearing, “did you need something?”

“Umm duh,” he teased, “it’s Friday night, aka movie night, and I am making sure you remember since you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Which I won’t take personally, unless it continues on.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t forgotten movie night. It had been a tradition for the last five years, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face a night alone with him. You drummed your fingers along the table, “I-I can’t tonight. Sorry, Eddie, I…forgot.”

“You forgot movie night?” his entire face fell and as you shrugged your shoulders and nodded slightly, “but we always…have movie night. How-”

“Look, I’m sorry,” you allowed yourself one little look at the boy before feeling your heart drop. You’d never seen such a sad look on his face before. You grabbed your bag before standing up, “I just forgot, I’m sorry. I…I’ll see you around.”

You were off and out of the cafeteria before he could say anything. You left him sitting there, staring after you with a heartbroken expression. You’d never forgotten, you’d never turned him down before. Not until today anyway.

Eddie decided that he wouldn’t think too much of it. It was only the first time and maybe you really did have something else pressing to do. He wasn’t going to freak out yet; he was sure things would be back to normal order shortly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Except Eddie was wrong. Very wrong.

Not only you had feigned that you’d forgotten movie night, you soon seemed to forget every plan and usual things done with Eddie. Whenever you saw him, you ducked around a corner or walked the other, or hid in the girls’ bathroom. You never answered the phone when he called your house, and never appeared to be home when he stopped by - which he knew was a lie.

You’d gone from being thick as thieves to slowly drifting apart, and Eddie was scared that he was going to lose you forever. Maybe it was dramatic, but he couldn’t imagine a life without you in it….he’d even wager to say it wasn’t worth living. Call him dramatic, which you only did, but he wasn’t just going to accept you walking out of his life without some sort of answer.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was another afternoon of suffering through the mundane classes at Hawkins High. At least lunch afforded you some to go outside, to breathe and get some fresh air. You were sitting at a small table by yourself, sketchbook open and pencil in hand, but yourself found yourself lacking inspiration. It wasn’t until you looked up and stared off into the distance that you noticed Eddie. A small sigh escaped your lips as you watched him stalk off into his secluded little spot behind the school…with Chrissy in tow.

The two of them were laughing about something, and that just served to make your blood boil. Why would Eddie even need you when he had pretty, perfect little Chrissy at his beck and call? He wouldn’t….he wouldn’t need you anymore.

You slammed the sketchbook shut, but not before looking down at what you had mindlessly created. Of course. It was a quick sketch of Eddie, something you’d done a million times before, but today it just served to make the bile rise in your throat.

This was harder than you ever dreamed it would be. You missed him…you really fucking missed him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You almost jumped when the chair across from you was pulled out. It was a quiet afternoon in the library, and you’d been the only one working in there…until now. You looked up and frowned when you realized it was Eddie. He gave you a small smile before slipping into the seat, “hey.”

“I’m studying,” you pointed to your books as if it wasn’t obvious enough, “do you mind?”

“Are you coming to Hellfire tonight?” you’d skipped out on the last couple of meetings, feeding one of the younger boys some excuse as to why you weren’t able to make it. It seemed to placate them well enough, but Eddie wasn’t buying it. You sighed lightly before shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you lied, “I’ve got this big test I’m studying for, I just don’t have the time.”

“Funny,” he mused thoughtfully, “that’s exactly what you told Dustin last time.”

“I have multiple classes and different tests,” you hissed, “besides, they’re AP classes, which require more work than the same basic pre-calc class you’re taking for the third time.”

And oh. That was a shitty low blow and you both knew it. You hated how it sounded as soon the words left your mouth. You didn’t mean any of it - you were just angry and wanted him to leave you alone and figured that might work. But Eddie, steadfast and sweet Eddie, wasn’t moved.

“This will be the third meeting in a row you’ve missed,” he whispered, “you know the rules - three missed meetings and you’re out. And rules are rules, even when it’s you.”

“Fine,” you grabbed your books and shoved them into your book bag, “kick me out then, that’s fine. I’ll live.”

Okay, there was absolutely something going on that you weren’t letting on about. Eddie knew you better than that; you’d never just miss Hellfire for no reason and just not care about being kicked out. That was absolutely not you.

“Wait -”

“No,” you hissed through gritted teeth and stalked out of the library. But Eddie wasn’t made. If anything, he was more determined to figure out what was going on.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late but you weren’t sleeping just yet. You couldn’t - your mind was way too loud and incessant for that. Truthfully you hadn't slept well in weeks, but you’d adapted to living under a cloud of tiredness.

It was the loud tapping at your window that snapped you wide away as you looked up from where your head bent down and stared at a textbook. You had no clue what the noise was, and wondered if you should ignore the sound. But then it came again and you knew that it wouldn’t stop until you examined what was going on.

“You open the window, or I’ll do it myself,” the voice from outside reached your ears and you quickly pulled the curtains back. There was Eddie Munson, perched on the roof outside your window, ready to open the window himself.

“Eddie,” you decided to take mercy on him and opened it so he could come inside. He landed without any grace on your floor, almost tripped over his own feet, “it’s past midnight! What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see you,” he insisted and you sighed as you sat down on your bed, shaking your head at him. He dropped to his knees in front of you and reached for your hand, which you just pulled away, “what is going on, sweetheart? And don’t lie to me and say it’s nothing. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and we both know it. I just want to know what I did, so I can fix it, I want to make things better. Please, let me fix it.”

“Eddie,” tears had already pearled up and run down your cheeks. Of course he wanted to make things better, he was still willing to try despite how terrible you’d been to him, “I-I don’t think you can fix it.”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted meekly, “you just have to tell me what it is.”

“It’s you,” you breathed and watched as his face turned into a look of confusion, “you’re the problem. And there’s no way to fix this, not anymore.”

“I’m the problem?” he looked so taken aback, so hurt. He had no clue what he could have done to hurt you or upset you, at least not knowingly. He’d never hurt you; he’d take the pain and brunt a million times over before letting you get hurt, “what do you mean? W-what did I do?”

You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and shook your head before exhaling shakily. You’d already made a fool out of yourself, might as well get it all out there in the open, “I’m in love with you.”

A heavy, thick silence fell over the two of you as he watched you closely and you just sniffled and looked anywhere but at him. He spoke up when he couldn't stand it anymore, “what’s so bad about that?”

“Eddie,” you turned back to him and noticed he had the softest and most gentle of smiles on his face. That just confused you more, “I can’t be your best friend and be so in love with you and watch you fawn over girls and date them and eventually…forget about me.”

“Wait, I’m confused…what do you mean other girls?”

“Pretty girls, the ones that you like, like Chrissy,” you shrugged and tried to act like your heart wasn’t completely broken, “I saw you with her.”

“I don’t…I don’t like Chrissy,” he confessed as your brows knitted in confusion, “she’s nice and I was with her, to sell her some stuff for a party, and another time for some advice.”

“Everyone likes her…” you shrugged lightly, “you can tell me the truth, that you’re into her and all those other pretty cheerleaders. Besides, what advice could you possibly get from her? It’s fine if you’re into her, Eddie, it just…I don’t think I can be your friend and have to see you with her all the time. Maybe that’s really selfish, but it’s true.”

“Stop, please - just listen to me for a moment. I was asking her about you,” he professed and you looked to find his eyes searching you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times and Eddie took advantage to brush a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “because you’d been avoiding me and acting like you hate me. I was asking her what I could do to get you to talk to me again.”

“Oh…a-and what did she say?”

“She told me to be honest with you,” it was his turn to breathe shakily, his eyes soft but nervous, “to get it all out there and tell you that I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, positive you hadn’t heard him correctly. There was no way that he said what you had been so desperately wanting to hear for years. This had to be you trying to manifest your dream into reality. He laughed nervously when you didn’t say anything, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What did you say?” your voice was so soft and small as you looked at him nervously, “Eddie?”

“I said I was in love with you,” he plopped onto the floor, sitting in front of you as he waited for you to say something - anything.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” he promised, “of course I do. I’d never lie to you. I…I thought you knew, I thought it was so obvious. And then when you started pushing me away, I got scared. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

You slid off the bed and flopped onto the floor so you were sitting across from him, your leg resting against yours. You swallowed the lump in your throat before leaning in to him, “I thought I was going to lose you forever too.”

He exhaled through his nose sharply, making a small sound of amusement before looking at you intensely, “so…where does that leave us? If you still don’t want anything to do with me, I can leave. Whatever you’d want, I respect.”

Your silence almost killed him as you seemed to be mulling over something. Every moment seemed to take an eternity as he waited for you to speak. He was braced and ready to leave, figuring you really were done with him.

But then, suddenly and surprising the both of you, you leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t even a proper kiss, more of a brush of lips, saccharine and shy. You sat back down, your entire face and body flushing with warmth as you looked at him nervously. You found the biggest and most lovesick smile on his face as his bambi eyes softened.

He reached for you, his hands settling on your waist before he pulled you into his lap. You gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his action, finding yourself face to face with him. He settled a hand on your face, tenderly brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, sighing softly as the feel of his soft palm and calloused fingertips.

He leaned in and you couldn't help but wonder what was coming next. Was he going to kiss you and then call it a day? Was he just going to leave? Was he-

Eddie quickly answered your question by kissing you, his hand going from your cheek to tenderly cup your neck. You leaned into his touch and let him take the lead. He didn't stop kissing you until you were dizzied and drunk off his touch. You imagined this so many times, and so many ways, but nothing compared to the real thing.

"I love you," he gently cradled your face in his hands and it felt like he was looking into the depths of your being, into your soul. You wrapped your hands around his wrists and blinked back your tears, “I mean it, sweetheart. It’s always been you. And I’m sorry that I ever did anything to make you like it wasn’t you.”

“It’s been you too,” you whispered softly, causing his cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink, “always you, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he sighed softly before kissing you again, “I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that, sweetheart. You’ve been my dream girl since we met, you know.”

“That’s a strong way of putting it…” you wanted to hide your warm face, but he wouldn’t let you. He shook his head softly, clearly disagreeing with you.

“But it’s true,” he insisted softly, “can I kiss you again?”

“I don’t ever want you to stop,” you confessed sweetly, causing his heart to practically melt, “I want everything with you, Eddie.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” you promised, taking advantage of his momentary shock to kiss him again. You could feel him smiling against your lips before he kissed along your jaw and down your neck, biting at the delicate skin to leave behind a haze of pretty lavender bruises. You already felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, “Eddie.”

“Can I make love to you?”

“Yes,” you pulled back to your lips and kissed him gently, “please.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie muson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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sugumii · 11 months

Text

Blade X Reader: Affection

TW: None.

___________

“Blaaaadeee”

“…”

“Bllaaaaaaddieeeee.”

“…”

“Love of my life.”

“…”

“Darling?”

“…”

“My love?”

“…”

“My lovely amazing lover whom I care for very deeply and cher-“

A gloved hand covered your mouth, stopping you from speaking. Instead, confused muffles came out as the raven haired male eyed you irritably. His dark, wine red eyes stared at you with annoyance. “What?”

You snickered upon hearing his annoyed tone. You just loved pushing your boyfriend’s buttons. Funny enough, even as his s/o he never dropped his tough boy act. He was still the same, cold and aloof, but he did show off his soft side in private sometimes. Dating Blade was certainly not for the light hearted. With a past as dark as his, it was only natural for his heart to have countless walls and remain guarded. Except, he let his guard down a little around you. There were times he’d joke and mumble a quiet, “I love you” but nothing more has occurred. He wasn’t one for displaying affection after all. You slowly removed his hand from your mouth to respond.

“Nothing. Just bored.”

“…” His eyes narrowed and a scowl took form on his face. Bored? Just what the devil was wrong with you? If you’re bored why bother him? Go play games with Silver Wolf or scheme with Kafka. Why bother him?

“So?”

“Soooo… as my boyfriend you have to entertain me! Let’s do something!” You excitedly said, looking up at him with vibrant eyes. You were grinning and looking ecstatic for reasons Blade didn’t understand. He raised an eyebrow at this before speaking. “Go bother Silver Wolf or something. I’m busy.”

You whined and pouted. “Busy doing what? Standing aloof? Come onn don’t push me away. You wouldn’t want to upset your s/o now would you?”

Blade huffed and closed his eyes, seemingly done with your antics. His whole body radiated vibes of annoyance but on the inside he was actually amused and intrigued by you. You looked cute to him, pouting and complaining about wanting to spend time with him. He refrained from smiling and instead remained stoic. “Fine. What do you want to do?”

Your eyes lit up as you internally cheered and replied, “How about we cuddle? We haven’t done that yet and I wanna try cuddling with you! Plus, you look comfy to hug.” Upon saying this, you watched as your boyfriend’s eyes opened with the smallest hint of surprise at your suggestion. Cuddle? With him? Blade wasn’t one for being touched, in fact he despised it. He was never interested in things such as holding hands or cuddling, not even hugs seemed that interesting to him.

He studied your expression for a moment, taking note of your pleading gaze. Maybe… just maybe, he could make an exception for tonight. He sighed and gave in.

“Fine… but don’t get used to this.”

“Yaaay!” You cheered, quickly taking hold of his hand and ushering him to the lounge’s sofa. He flinched at the close contact but didn’t complain, allowing it to happen. You sat down as he followed suit, then scooted closer to him. He remained seated and stared straight ahead into the distance.

“Bladeeee, come on. At least act like you want to.” You huffed, closing the distance between the two of you. You were leaning into his side, looking up at him expectantly. His stoic facade was easily fooling you into thinking he didn’t care, but on the inside his heart raced ever so slightly.

He looked down at you and had the faintest hint of a blush on his face before he slowly wrapped an arm around you. His heart rate quickened at the close contact, especially when you hummed happily and leaned in closer to him. Was this really happening? Him, letting someone get this close to him? Usually he was quick to point his sword to them and threaten them, some even getting struck down immediately… but you. You were his only exception. You were the only one whom he genuinely enjoyed their touch. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t so bad.

“Bladeee? Are you blushing?” You teased, watching him seemingly snap out of his thoughts. You poked his cheek as he returned to his emotionless expression and glared at you.

“Huh-?” You yelped as he pulled you in suddenly and leaned down to place a quick kiss on your lips. You blushed furiously, completely not expecting this outcome. Your heart raced, but unknowingly to you not as fast at your boyfriend’s. Blade leaned back and looked straight ahead again, pretending as though nothing had happened leaving you stuck in a daze. He just kissed you… he just kissed you. He just-

You came back to reality as you felt a slight pain on your forehead. You blushed and whined and rubbed at it, looking up at Blade’s face. Before you could question him he smirked and looked proud, almost smug at your reaction. He flicked your forehead once more and pulled you into his side closer.

“Cute.”

______

“Aren’t they just adorable?” Kafka grinned teasingly, snapping a few photos of you and Blade cuddling together. You both had ended up falling asleep together in the lounge. Blade had you glued to his side, pressed firmly yet comfortably against him. His arm remained wrapped around you as you snored softly with your head against his chest. His head rested on yours with a peaceful look on his face. Elio nodded in agreement, a slight smile on his face. Of course he had foreseen this outcome already, but seeing it personally was even cuter.

“They’re quite cute indeed.”

“Kafka, send me those photos when you’re done.” Silver wolf commented, continuing to lie down on another couch with her eyes glued to her gaming device. A lollipop was in her mouth as she casually replied, “I want to upload this to my social media.”

Kafka chuckled and stood back up, putting her phone in her pocket. “Sure, sure… just be sure to give me some credit.” She turned to Elio and nodded her head with a sly smile on her face. “Alright, now that I’ve had my fun it’s time to head to Xianzhou Luofu to fulfill the mission. I’ll see you two later.” She grinned as she made her way to the teleporter. Before she entered, she turned her head back to the two and commented.

“Just be sure those two are awake when we need them. Bladie’s suppose to get captured after all.”

With that she teleports away and leaves the four to themselves in the lounge. Elio turns to leave elsewhere, needing to finish his business while Silver Wolf opens her text messages to see the pictures Kafka sent her of the two. She smiles and saves them, opening her social media.

“They’re cute together… #OTP.”

#blade x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #honkai star rail #blade honkai #honkaiedit #fanfic #hsr kafka #silver wolf #honkai silver wolf #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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shuahoonie · 7 months

Text

unspoken words | jeon wonwoo

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo (svt) x fem!reader

notes: office!au (kinda?), fluff, suggestive jokes, swearing, idiots 2 lovers. alcohol consumption, jeonghan the matchmaker. the one where reader and wonwoo’s paths kept missing each other until they didn’t. loosely based on the song unspoken words by mxmtoon.

word count: 5.1k

summary: you and wonwoo always had a complicated relationship— no matter how hard you two tried, your lives had a funny way of getting intertwined.

and stubborn may you both be, wonwoo will always admit his feat when it comes to you.

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

“i never asked you to stay,” wonwoo muttered as you helped him clean up after the info session that your work had conducted for a group of students.

“this is ridiculous,” you sighed more so to yourself “there’s no way you could’ve done this by yourself.” you said while you held the blue recycling bin, gathering all of the leftover flyers and other papers that had writing on them. you also had a separate bin for the coffee lids and cup sleeves to put in the recycling as well.

“you could’ve just left,” wonwoo was watching you the entire time, making a mental note that you were serious about putting away your trash. “i know seokmin is waiting for you in the lobby.”

“it’s okay.” you replied, not even bothering to look him in the eye. instead, you gathered everything in a neat pile.

“you shouldn’t keep him waiting,” the words came out so harsh when he said it. even wonwoo was surprised, he wasn’t usually like this.

“he’ll be fine,” you said dismissively, not really in the mood to argue with him.

“yn,” wonwoo calls your name as if he hated doing it. “go.”

it took everything within you to stop yourself from yelling at him. “your anger will mean nothing,” seokmin’s words would ring in your ear. so you took a deep breath, dropped what you were doing and left without another word.

“oh, seok, i was ready to pounce him.” you grumbled, stabbing the lettuce on your salad a little too aggressively.

"what, like sexually?" seokmin realized it was a bad joke. the way you were practically throwing daggers at him made it painfully obvious that you were not in the mood to kid around. "i'm sorry, yn, but you really need to lighten up."

"if there's anyone who needs to lighten up, it's him," you argued, munching on your greens. "in fact, maybe i should light him up."

"i still don't understand how you two got off on the wrong foot," seokmin points out, hoping a proper explanation will emit from you.

you shrugged because you didn’t know what to tell your friend. the first time you properly met wonwoo was at your workplace. you even thought he was cute— quiet, had the nicest smile. your other coworkers were even raving about how polite and kind he was.

imagine your surprise when the ‘polite’ cutie from the editorial floor practically threw daggers at you as soon as you stepped into the office with the cerulean blue folders. this threw off wonwoo as he did the preparation for the meeting.

“in my defence, i saved both our asses when i replaced the folders during that important meeting with the new york office,” you grumbled.

unbeknownst to you, wonwoo kept a close track of your encounters. the first time wonwoo met you was through university.

you were the president of the school’s undergraduate publication journal and you were only in your second year. wonwoo was one of the new student recruits, he was a third year. he actually thought you were cute until you had assigned him to deal with international relations— wonwoo had applied for the editorial layout section. wonwoo was not happy.

you probably don’t remember him, wonwoo knew it. how could you? you were running around, trying to figure out the logistics, gather and have people review these submissions, edit and have it all printed before the next term starts. meanwhile, wonwoo was stuck somewhere, trying to solve things on his end. you only left notes on his work, you two barely met during meetings. you two had no direct contact.

once you were in your third year, you had to step down as president and become a casual editor instead. wonwoo became the publication journal’s president that year. you two still had no direct contact.

you unintentionally beat him for that librarian assistant position that wonwoo was gunning for as it'll boost his resume.

somehow, for wonwoo, you were always one step ahead of him and he doesn't like that one bit.

so the day you pranced into the office with your signature bright smile, wonwoo felt territorial over a place where he felt like he finally was one step ahead of you.

wonwoo didn't even like that seungcheol served you the last chocolate cake the day he stopped by at heaven's cloud cafe.

"how could you, cheol?" wonwoo huffed, his arms crossed, as cheol placed the iced americano and a slice of strawberry cake on wonwoo's table.

"it's just a slice, dude," seungcheol looked at him weirdly. "and you don't even like chocolate.”

“yeah, but i wanted a chocolate cake today.”

“jeon wonwoo, quit being weird and eat your cake,” jun comments as he appears behind seungcheol, dropping his things on the floor and sitting on the opposite of wonwoo.

while jun waits for his order to arrive, he worked on the monthly report that his boss has been pressuring him to do. as jun went on rambling about how much he hates his job, wonwoo is occupied with the idea of you. how you were always a step ahead of him.

from then, jeon wonwoo declared a one-sided competition against you.

your idea of jeon wonwoo was simple— he was the cute guy from the editorial team who hates your guts. why? surely, you don’t know.

one rainy afternoon, seokmin made sure to tell you that he won’t be able to give you a ride home, so he gave you the spare umbrella that he had.

“please be kind, ynnie, and let someone stand under your umbrella if they don’t have theirs,” seok reminded you.

“you know damn well i’m always kind,” you huffed with a pout— in which seok just gave you a pointed look before he handed you an umbrella and your lunch.

it seemed that your words had come to haunt you because here you were, walking under the rain using seok’s tiny umbrella, passing by wonwoo who was waiting in front of the office building— probably waiting for the rain to stop as he had no umbrella.

“he’d be waiting all night,” you thought to yourself. you had a long internal battle whether you’d just ignore him but seok’s words were ringing in your ear.

taking a deep breath, you asked “do you want to share an umbrella?”

wonwoo’s startled eyes looked at you and your umbrella. “i’m calling a cab,” he answered. wonwoo wasn’t exactly lying, he’s been trying to get one but the rain has made it extremely difficult to find one.

“well, you’d be calling all night. cabs are extremely hard to find especially at times like these,” you answered. wonwoo hated that you were right. again, always one step ahead of him. “subways are still running, do you want to walk together?”

wonwoo stared at you for what felt like an eternity before you rolled your eyes and pulled him under your umbrella. “we’re walking, stop overthinking it.”

you two were walking quietly in the rain. you’ve been coworkers for almost a year now and you can’t remember the time you and wonwoo had a proper conversation— one that you two didn’t end up bickering about senseless things. you didn’t even know why you two were always butting heads when you two were always working closely together.

as you tried to squeeze the two of you under seok’s tiny umbrella, you noticed that his shoulder was practically soaking wet. of all the umbrellas that he’d give you, he had to choose the tiniest one he owned. this prompted you to hover the umbrella more on his side, allowing the rain to soak your exposed shoulder instead.

wonwoo noticed how you moved the umbrella towards him, making him raise an eyebrow. you were wonwoo’s greatest puzzle— he can’t guess your next move and what’s worse is that you’re always one step ahead of him. “what are you doing?” he asked with furrowed brows.

you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how tall he is. no wonder your arms were getting tired from holding that damn umbrella up. “what do you mean?” you asked, confused by his question.

wonwoo grabbed the umbrella from you— your hands touching for a brief moment. you ignored whatever was forming in the pit of your stomach. maybe you’re just hungry? wonwoo hovered the umbrella closer to you, fully aware of the fact that his shoulder was getting wet from the rain. “you’re getting soaked,” wonwoo replied curtly.

“so are you,” you pointed out as you held the umbrella and tried to move it closer to him. however, wonwoo resisted it.

“i’m fine,” he says.

“whatever you say,” you huffed “it’s not like you intended to have annoyingly broad shoulders anyway,” you grumbled more to yourself, hoping he didn’t hear it. however, wonwoo heard your frustration over his shoulders and he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face.

it was the first time he could openly admit to himself that you made him smile. it was also the first time you caught him smiling.

“oh, how adorable,” mingyu grinned upon hearing the umbrella-sharing story from wonwoo. “and you said you weren’t one for office romances,” he teased earning a glare from wonwoo.

"because i'm not," wonwoo rolled his eyes "and i don't like her," he said almost defensively.

mingyu snorted "yeah, as if i haven't heard that line before." he said while setting up the living room for a movie night between him, wonu, jun, and chan. jun and ichan were running a little late as they were buying drinks.

"well, it's true," wonwoo crossed his arms "there's something about her that makes me feel like..." wonwoo trailed off, finding the right words to say.

"like?" mingyu sat on the couch, turning towards wonwoo— clearly invested.

"like... fuck, i don't know..."

mingyu lets out a dramatic gasp. "dude," he stares at wonwoo in complete awe. "you swore..."

"and?"

"you never swear unless you're completely frustrated," mingyu pointed out, a teasing look glimmering in his eyes. "you like yn, huh?!"

before wonwoo could even answer, mingyu's doorbell rang. saved by the bell, wonwoo thought.

"oh, this is not over, jeon wonwoo." mingyu said with a smirk, making wonwoo groan.

"seok, quit looking at me like that," you whined as you hugged the pillow tighter, placing your chin on top of the pillow.

"what?" seok grinned "it's nice to know that your beef with your coworker is slowly coming to an end."

"he was probably thinking how ridiculous i sounded for mentioning his shoulders," you grumbled. "why did i even mention his shoulders?!" you groaned.

seokmin couldn't help but laugh at how adorable you were being. "oh my sweet, ynnie," he cooed, ruffling your hair.

"here you go, yn," vernon said as he handed you a pint of ice cream. you were hosting a sleepover with seok, vern, and kwan. you three were waiting for seungkwan to arrive with the rest of the snacks.

you initially thought that you'd have the ice cream later but vernon thought that you might need it sooner than later. "thanks, nonie," you smiled at him.

"for what it's worth ynnie, he finally smiled at what you said." vernon said before taking a bite of his ice cream.

"and now yn is acting up because she thought he was cute," seokmin said teasingly, making vernon laugh.

wonwoo believes that the universe is out to get him. he kept complaining that you were always one step ahead of him and now, the universe is starting to retaliate.

"take yn," his manager tells him, making wonwoo clutch tighter on his notebook.

"sir?" wonwoo must be hearing things. there's no way that his manager actually asked him to take yn, right?

"take yn ln," his manager stresses your name. "didn't you two work on the last summit?"

"yes, but sir—"

"then it's final," his manager dismisses wonwoo "you two did a wonderful job with the last summit, i'd like you two to work on this year's professional development sessions."

"you two make a wonderful team," was the final thing that his manager said. without another word, wonwoo left the office feeling defeated. how can wonwoo be one step ahead of you if the universe is making him walk alongside you?

it was no surprise that wonwoo was everyone's office crush in the editorial department. people would often turn their heads whenever he walked by. this time was no exception.

the people on your floor knew the budding tension between you two. so when wonwoo was walking towards your desk with two coffees and a bag of dessert in hand, heads definitely turned and people were bound to talk.

"here," wonwoo hands you an iced americano and a bag of what you assumed was a slice of chocolate cake, catching you off-guard. your desk computer was showing the available job listings in the other departments. "are you thinking of transferring?" he asked as he leaned closer to your monitor— closer to you. his cologne was easily filling your nostrils. you hate that he smells good. how are you supposed to despise a man who smells good?! you thought. wow, the bar is literally on the floor.

"i'm keeping my options open," you answered as you crossed your arms, snapping yourself to reality. "it's not like you're making my life any easier here," you muttered the latter sentence, though you did hope that he heard it.

it's been a month since you and wonwoo started working on the company's professional development sessions. it's also been a month of torture. you've gotten frequent migraines that you started looking up if taking tylenol frequently will kill you. you didn't like the results.

wonwoo heard the latter sentence. while the month has been torture for you, wonwoo didn't mind your company at all. sure you were butting heads most of the time, but he noticed how much you were willing to compromise just to settle a conclusion between you two. wonwoo liked pushing your buttons. he found you cute even if you wanted to bite his head off.

"is this a peace offering?" you motioned to the coffee and the cake that was sitting on your desk.

"for what?" wonwoo smirked, playing coy. "you agreed to the after-session event, fair and square."

"bitch?!" you stared at him as if he's gone mad "if anything, you made it your life's mission to annoy me into agreeing that going to an escape room is what we need after overloading our brains from the sessions."

"yn ln, you know i can go to HR because you cursed at me, right?"

"jeon wonwoo, you know we're banned from that floor unless there's a serious allegation," you said, massaging your temples. "now humour me, what's with the coffee and cake?"

"oh, i stopped by at heaven's cloud café earlier and jeonghan practically insisted that you have these," wonwoo said casually, looking away.

you stared at him suspiciously, "thanks, i guess." you haven't spoken to jeonghan in a while since you've always been swamped with work. but maybe that's why you got free coffee and desserts?

before you could even ask wonwoo another question, he quickly left without even looking back at you. deciding to ignore it, you snapped a quick picture of the coffee and the cake, shooting jeonghan a quick text, "thanks for the coffee & cake, hannie! miss u! ♡"

"jeon wonwoo, is there a reason why yn sent me a text earlier, thanking me for the coffee and cake that i didn't give her?" jeonghan asked wonwoo, who was busy typing away on his laptop. wonwoo stopped at jeonghan's place after work as their other friends will be dropping by later as well.

"i don't know what you're talking about," wonwoo mumbled, not looking at han in the eye.

jeonghan was having none of it. "i'm texting yn that you gave those things to her," he threatened, pulling out his phone.

knowing jeonghan is probably going to commit to it, wonwoo sighed and threw his hands in defeat. "fine."

“and so the plot thickens,” jeonghan smirked, crossing his arms. “so is there a reason why?"

"she was having a rough day," wonwoo explained, closing his laptop. that report will be dealt with tomorrow. "i felt bad."

jeonghan raised an eyebrow at him. "i thought you didn't like her?"

"i don't."

"funny, because that's an odd way of expressing how you dislike her," jeonghan said, making wonwoo roll his eyes.

“i can at least recognize all the work she’s been doing in planning the pd session,” wonwoo replied, defensive.

jeonghan smirked because he knew. he knew that wonwoo was walking on a thin line. in fact, jeonghan was 100% sure that his friend has gone soft for you. “okay, whatever you say.”

“ynnie!” seungcheol calls your name as he spots you, busy choosing what kind of juice you are going to buy. you decided to stop by at the grocery to grab a couple of things for the fridge.

you gave him a small wave, smiling. seungcheol, however, was eager to give you a hug. you, cheol, and han shared a couple of classes back when you three were in university. you were always supportive of their endeavours that’s why cheol & han always had a soft spot for you— they considered you like a little sister that they always had to take care of.

“how was the cake from earlier? you know i’ve been taking a lot of baking lessons recently,” cheol said with a proud smile.

“oh, it was great, cheol!” you said sincerely “i sent jeonghan a text earlier, saying thanks.”

“thanks for what?”

“for the cake…?” you trailed off, a bit off-guard by the confusion plastered on seungcheol’s face.

“why would you thank jeonghan?” seungcheol asked, even more confused.

“jeonghan wasn’t there?”

cheol shook his head no. “unless jeonghan told wonwoo, but i assumed wonwoo bought it for you. i was teasing him about it too, since he doesn’t like chocolate that much.”

“ah,” was all you could say as you felt your cheeks burning, surprised by cheol’s sudden information. is that why jeonghan hasn't replied to your text at all?

cheol suddenly felt like he just triggered a bomb. oh, he fucked up. as if on cue, his phone started ringing. mingyu was calling. "okay, i'm heading off, ynnie."

you just nodded and waved goodbye, feeling confused. it was a good thing that you won't be seeing wonwoo during the weekend otherwise you would've gone mad.

heaven's cloud café was buzzing with people when you came in.

you spent a lot of time debating if you had to improvise how you would spend your sunday morning. you would usually stop by the heaven's cloud café and spend a good chunk of your time there— reading or chatting with jeonghan and seungcheol.

however, knowing that wonwoo might stop by at the cafe, it left you questioning if you wanted to derail your usual sunday routine.

and yet, your pride got the best of you. no matter how much you didn't want to see wonwoo, you weren't going to derail your sunday routine especially if it involved coffee.

although the café was usually busy on the weekends, today was unusually busy— you wondered if there was a special promotion taking place. jeonghan hasn't even acknowledged your presence yet as han is busy manning the till while also preparing the drinks. cheol is probably in the kitchen, preparing food.

you settled on the last empty table at the very back— dropping off your things, deciding to order a bit later once the line from the till calms down.

while you were busy scrolling on your phone, someone placed a tall glass of iced americano and a slice of strawberry cake on your table.

"you should try this, it's a house favourite," someone with a deep voice said. you looked up and saw jeon wonwoo with slightly messy hair, wearing your favourite black specs and a white button-up, smiling at you. fuck, he looks good. is hell officially frozen?

"are you perhaps a twin of jeon wonwoo?" you asked, completely boggled.

"yn, what the hell?" wonwoo laughs at your incredulous take, making you even more confused. why is this wonwoo variant laughing and smiling at you? most of all, why are they bringing you food when you haven't even ordered?! "what made you say that?"

you reached out your hand and poked his cheek, making him laugh. "are you really wonwoo from sector17 press?"

"yn, seriously, what makes you think that it's not me?"

"why are you so smiley all of a sudden," you cried, weirded out. "and why are you serving me food?"

"my, do you like it when i give you a hard time?" wonwoo said, teasingly "is that a kink of yours?"

"you're fucking weird, jeon wonwoo," you smacked his arm. "i've never met the weekend version of wonwoo and i don't think i like it," you cried quietly to yourself.

"cute," wonwoo says quietly, still smiling at you. "i'll talk to you later, okay? i'm helping cheol and han for the day and i feel like they'll beat my ass if they see me slacking off." wonwoo gently ruffled your hair and walked away, leaving you flabbergasted.

you felt that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. oh god, what the fuck just happened?

the friday night that jeonghan found out that wonwoo used jeonghan’s good name to protect his image, was the same night that seungcheol bumped into you at the grocery store.

drinks were getting passed rather at a rapid speed. for them, this night was a gem among other nights. most of jeonghan’s friends were at his place, enjoying the night away.

“ya, wonwoo,” cheol suddenly calls wonwoo, who was barely drinking— as per cheol’s opinion. “i thought tonight was the night that you were going to get loose.”

wonwoo chuckled, “i’m pacing myself.”

jeonghan snorted. “cheol, you’re talking to the guy who still cannot admit his high school crush on our ynnie.”

this earned a couple of laughs from the group, mainly from mingyu and jun.

“yoon jeonghan, just because you’re in a happy relationship—” wonwoo threw a balled up napkin at him, obviously not knowing how to reply.

“oh, wons, that reminds me…” cheol started rubbing the back of his head “i told yn that it was you who gave her the food and not jeonghan.”

as soon as the words left cheol’s mouth, it’s as if wonwoo felt annoyingly sober. he downed the tall shot of bacardi that was supposed to be mingyu’s shot.

“i don’t get why you’re tiptoeing around your feelings for her,” mingyu pointed out, filling the shot glass again. “it’s not like there’s a company policy against dating your coworkers.”

“isn’t there?” joshua asked. wonwoo shook his head no. “lucky bastard.” shua muttered, taking mingyu’s shot.

“you guys, what’s the point of doing rounds when you’re taking the shots as you please?” mingyu whines.

“i thought you didn’t like yn?” jun asked wonwoo, taking a bite of the kimchi jeon. “or is that like a weird defence mechanism against your feelings?”

"oh please," mingyu rolled his eyes "wonwoo had a huge crush on yn ever since our uni days," he pointed out, prompting wonwoo to hit him.

"weren't you two in like a school publication together?" jeonghan asked, taking the shot from mingyu.

"oh, right! you had like a one-sided beef with yn," jun's eyes lit up briefly, then proceeded to smirk at wonwoo, "ya! is that how you show your affection?"

"obviously not," cheol grins "our wonwoo is the type to show his affection through actions, not words."

"what are the chances that they'd end up working under the same company though," joshua commented with a fond smile.

"and in the same department too," jeonghan added.

wonwoo groans, before taking a shot, "i hate all of you."

"you two have a deep history, have you two never talked?" joshua asked, now invested.

wonwoo shakes his head, "we only talk about work."

"if they talk about work," mingyu laughs, "all they do is argue."

"how do you know all of this, gyu?" cheol asked in disbelief, laughing, "you work at a different company."

"i work with seokmin," mingyu replied "and seok likes to tell stories about yn."

"ya, didn't we invite him tonight?" cheol suddenly remembers, looking at his phone to check his message thread with seok.

"he's probably with yn," wonwoo muttered before taking another shot. this gets attention from the rest of the group— a series of teasing smirks and playful looks being exchanged.

like a kid on christmas morning, a bright smile appears on mingyu's face. "won, are you perhaps jealous?" he teased, with the new-found information.

wonwoo scoffed but didn't answer the question. wonwoo swore he wasn't the jealous type. but for some reason, he can't get over the fact that his friend was closer to you.

wonwoo knew that there was nothing going on with you and seok.

however, seok was your person, wonwoo would always think. you felt happier around seok. if wonwoo didn't know any better, he would assume that you liked seok. maybe she does, wonwoo can't help but think.

"you know they're just friends, right?" mingyu reminded wonwoo.

wonwoo doesn't say anything. he was just waiting for his friends to butt into the conversation. wonwoo's eyes caught jeonghan's. jeonghan smiles, that mischievous smile of his, leaving wonwoo confused.

"won, do you wanna know who she likes?" jeonghan instigates, leaning forward.

wonwoo waits, does he really wanna know?

jeonghan smiles, then says "you."

wonwoo didn't believe in signs— for him, every little decision a person makes is pulled by the desired outcome. however, you were his only exception.

"if ynnie stops by at the café on sunday, will you finally talk to her like civilized beings?" jeonghan's words rang loudly in wonwoo's ear.

"i don't believe in signs," wonwoo states simply.

"and you can't make an exception for yn?" jeonghan knew how to play the game. he's just waiting for wonwoo to swallow his pride and address his suppressed feelings.

"maybe." wonwoo answers, making jeonghan smile mischievously. and so, it begins, jeonghan thinks.

it was ridiculous— waiting for something to happen when he could've just started a conversation with you. but it's so hard when it's you. god, it's so hard for wonwoo when it's you because you make him feel things that he thought were only exaggerated by films.

wonwoo didn't know if jeonghan's revelation about you was a lie, but he'd be lying if he said that it didn't affect him— because it did. it felt like he was back in high school and he's not sure if that's something he liked.

jeonghan and seungcheol were very much aware of your routine. every now and then, you would visit the café every sunday— even during the morning rush. they were most definitely aware of what's waiting for you and wonwoo.

the two owners had tasked wonwoo to help with serving the orders as more people flooded the café. "make yourself useful while you wait for your girlfriend!" was all jeonghan said as he handed wonwoo an apron.

and so when you entered the café, wonwoo gathered all his strength to talk to you casually, even if it sent him through an overdrive.

while you were walking towards the washroom, you bumped into jeonghan who was grinning at you. you knew that man long enough to know that he's hiding something when he's smiling like that.

"ya," you pulled jeonghan to the side. "what are you hiding?"

"what do you mean?" han answers, blinking at you innocently.

"why is wonwoo being nice and smiley," you asked him with a huff, crossing your arms. wonwoo being smiley was something you didn't know would affect you this bad. "he's being too cute for my liking," you muttered the latter part.

jeonghan laughs at your dilemma. "isn't that what you wanted?"

"what do you mean—" you were confused with jeonghan's comment until it dawned on you. you remembered the time you went out for drinks with jeonghan and seungkwan. "yoon jeonghan!" you slapped his arm, making him yelp but he was still laughing.

"what?" he looks at you, acting confused as he rubs his arm. "i'm being supportive here!"

"you promised me you wouldn't tell him," you pouted.

"oh please, he was jealous of seok, i had to throw him something."

"so you told wonwoo about the time i got drunk with you and professed my undying feelings for him instead?!"

"no," jeonghan replies. his eyes moved past yours, looking past your shoulders, and smiled. "but i think you already did." jeonghan says, patting your shoulder before he left.

wonwoo was sitting across from you with a smile on his face. you've never seen this man smile at you this much, it was starting to freak you out.

"don't look at me like that," you grumbled, glaring at wonwoo.

"i can't help it," he looks at you almost tenderly. "you look adorable even when you're sulking like that."

you felt the familiar sensation in your stomach. how can jeon wonwoo just say things like these to you? does he not care about your well-being?! how you'd feel?

"that was a long time ago, by the way," you said in defence— as if the damage hadn't been done. wonwoo waits for you to continue your sentence. "you know, me having a crush on you," you continued, your tone getting quieter after each word.

"i'm sorry, what was that?" wonwoo leans closer, as if he didn't hear what you just said. you knew he was just teasing you as you noticed that he was trying to fight off a smirk.

"i don't like you, jeon wonwoo," you whispered, prompting wonwoo to only focus on your lips.

"that's too bad because," wonwoo paused briefly and leaned even more, "i like you."

his face was dangerously close to yours— wonwoo didn't care if half of his body was practically hovering over the table. he wanted to lean closer to you.

you felt frozen in your place. a part of you wanted to lean back and smack him, but there's also a part of you that just wanted to grab his stupid face and kiss it.

"ya!" jeonghan suddenly appeared beside your table "if you two are going to make out in my café, can you move to cheol's office? i'm planning to keep this place family-friendly," jeonghan snickered.

maybe you should just kiss wonwoo and smack jeonghan instead.

hello hello friends! i wrote this while i was sick in bed & was high on buckley's flu meds, so this is v cheesy. i hope you are all well & healthy! ♡

867 notes · View notes

m0llygunn · 6 months

Note

had a cute thought: reader speaking softly to eddie as he’s asleep. reader does this occasionally and they whisper sweet nothings to eddie or tells eddie about their day (he doesn’t know this since he’s passed out) though, this time he’s pretending to be asleep. not for any reason, he just didn’t move or anything when reader entered his room and sat next to him in bed. would eddie stay pretending to be asleep as the reader whispers to him or would he surprise and embarrass them by responding? 💕

anyway it’s not much to go off of i apologize, but i hope to get ur input on it! have a good day x

this is sooooo cute!!! don't even apologize omg i love this so much! i personally think that eddie is an act first, think later kind of guy, so embarrassing you would be nothing but an afterthought; however, he'd also be intrigued to hear what you had to say and would continue pretending until you were done (or until his lovey dovey heart couldn't take it anymore hehe). then once he got his fill of sweet nothings, he'd absolutely be surprising you and littering you with kisses and his own sweet nothings! I wrote a quick little something-something inspired by this bc i love it!! but i changed your idea a teensy tiny bit (hope its okay!)

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

Eddie loves you dearly— so, so, so dearly. You know that, he knows that, and he’s pretty sure that every person in the country knows that.

He loves you so much, but he would oh-so-dearly love to go to sleep right now.

The only issue is you’ve got what he likes to call the ‘zoomies’. Yes— like puppies get when they’re all full of energy and excitement, and just have to have everyone’s attention. You’re being silly, and giggly, and prodding at him to entertain yourself— which he loves and finds so endearing, but after a full day of work, band practice, and then doing all the chores that just won’t leave him alone, he’s wiped clean.

So when you continue giggling, making yourself laugh by doing things like squeezing his cheeks together, and playing with his hair by putting it in all different directions that you think is just so funny, he ‘falls asleep’.

At first you don’t buy it.

“Eddie, I know you’re faking,” you said, still giggly as ever.

Eddie responded in a grumbled and sleepy ‘huh’, that had you second guessing.

“Are you really falling asleep?”

Eddie hummed quietly, sealing the deal.

“No fun,” you pouted quietly, leaning into him.

Under the weight of your shoulder pushing against his chest, he pretended to rouse the slightest bit, quietly murmuring your name, putting on the best performance of his life. You made a quiet little sound, like a sighed defeat.

He felt bad making his poor baby upset like this, all pouty and huffy, but it’s late and you should be going to sleep anyway (or maybe he’s just tired and trying to justify this one teeny tiny little white lie).

As the seconds on the clock ticked by, you seemed to accept that he was asleep. Giggly-no-more, you settle into his side, laying close to him, both of you cozied under the blankets together. Despite the warmth and calmness that now encapsulates the room, Eddie was so wrapped up in selling the idea that he was asleep that he forgot to actually fall asleep.

Just as he had begun to nod, you placed a flat hand to his chest, stirring him back awake.

“Just keep sleeping, Eddie. Okay?” you had whispered. It was an odd tone that you used, and an even odder phrase, seeming almost like you were up to something. He kept his eyes closed as you paused, keeping your hand pressed to his chest. It felt like a trap to him, like somehow you knew he was faking. In a quick decision, he decided to stick to his guns and continue his facade.

“Eddie?” you had said not long after, voice raising the slightest bit louder.

With a quiet hum from your lips, he felt your hand move from his chest, fingertips gravitating upwards, brushing over his bangs, pushing them back with a gentle lightness that was almost tickle inducing.

Voice honeyed and sugary sweet, “I love you,” whispered from your lungs, making his chest squeeze.

Your fingers brushed against his forehead again, grazing so softly down to his cheek, and he questioned whether or not he had actually fallen asleep. With the edge of your nail coasting across his chin, he decided he was still very much awake, he’s not dreaming just yet.

Only now he was faced with a dilemma. Does he do what he so desperately wants to do? Give up his act just to kiss you? Or does he continue pretending to be asleep, keeping you blissfully unaware of how he’s deceiving you?

“Thank you for loving me,” you whispered even more quietly than before, pulling Eddie from his internal debate. “I never could have imagined finding someone who is as kind as you are.” You let out a quiet breath, gathering your thoughts. “And for you to love me… I’m the luckiest person in the world,” you continued.

With every word, you took shallow breaths that fueled your whispers. Eddie felt his whole chest squeeze all at a once. His heart pitter-pattered happily in his chest and his lower lip threatened to jet out, revealing all of his ever-growing big emotions, but you continued, forcing him to pause and listen.

“‘Cause you’re so nice, and funny— and I love that you let me squeeze your cheeks and poke your bum and make your bangs all messy,” you giggled softly to yourself, and Eddie was a melted puddle of a man at your side.

He let you continue, selfishly wanting to hear more.

“And I love that you are so good at being yourself and… I don’t know…” you trailed off. “I guess, being around you has helped me be myself too. Thank you for loving me,” you sighed. You’re starting to sound tired, no doubt getting closer and closer to the cusp of sleep, but you push forward, voice turning into the cadence of a groggy ramble. “I love you so much, Eddie, and I hope you’re having really good dreams right now because I love you and you deserve them.”

Such a powerful ability you have, to be able to reduce him to a love-stricken mess of a man. All it took were a few sweet nothings whispered in your gooey, syrupy sweet voice and he was melting. A mess of a man that suddenly had the slightest threatening sting behind his eyelids as his soul swooned for you.

The final straw; when your lips connected to his chest in a loving, drawn out kiss, his fate was set. He couldn’t not kiss you. Without even blinking his eyes open, he was pushing himself over you just enough to press kisses wherever he could land them.

“Eddie!” you exclaimed in true shock. He pressed kisses across your cheek and down your jaw.

“I fucking love you,” he rasped through his tired voice.

“You— you’re sleeping,” you huffed. “Eddie,” you drew out in a whine.

“Thank you for loving me,” he said with all the conviction in the world. He truly was a lucky guy to get to call you his.

His kisses expand down to your neck, just dainty things, light presses of his lips that he hopes translate the way his heart soars for you. Gentle, chaste kisses, one after the other, all the way down to over your heart. He presses a matching kiss to the one you had given him, drawing it out, adding all of his love and adoration into it, just for you.

“I love you,” he promised, lifting his head to catch your gaze. A cross of embarrassment and smitten affection spans across your face, and he moves in for the kill— a kiss straight to your lips.

“You were pretending,” you pouted, furrowing your brows at him.

“Never,” he lied.

“You were.”

“But you’ll forgive me because you love me, right?” he smiled as big as he could, doing his best to butter you up. He watches the way your coy smile breaks and he considers it a win.

You didn’t dignify him with a response, you merely rolled your eyes before pushing yourself into his chest, cuddling close enough to hide your face and your growing smile.

“I’m going to sleep,” you huffed against his skin.

“I love you,” he replied proudly, both smug and happy.

“Love you,” you mumbled back, and he swore that even if you were mad at him in the morning, it was all worth it.

Maybe he ought to pretend to be asleep more often.

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i hope you liked it! sorry if there were any spelling mistakes! thank you and hope you're having a good day as well! <3

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taexual · 7 months

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sleepwalking ● 4 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 6.7k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 4 ► i wanna be someone you used to hate without the memory of the pain

It took three and a half hours for the tour bus to reach Warsaw. Objectively, that gave Jungkook plenty of time to tell you about his ex and why he thought that relationship was worth salvaging.

But somehow—that is, by spinning elaborate webs and finding cheap excuses to derail the topic—he told you exactly nothing of what you wanted to know and managed to fall asleep before you could accuse him of beating around the bush.

You wanted to wake him up, but rationality won over. He needed sleep and, truthfully, you didn’t really need to know the full details of his failed relationship. As his manager, you were supposed to know that such a relationship existed and that was enough—you should have let him rest.

And you did let him.

But that did not stop you from wanting to know more.

You hesitated – really, you did, if only for a moment – before you texted Luna. It was three in the morning, but the girl slept during the day and stayed awake watching films with Taehyung at night (no matter how much you scolded him for yawning during rehearsals), so she replied right away.

You were smart enough not to text her the details over the phone – the Rated Riot members had a tendency to steal everyone’s phones just for the fun of it sometimes – so she agreed to come find you at your bunk in the back of the bus.

There were seven of you on this bus: the four members of the band, Luna, you, and the driver. You knew you had to be quiet, but you figured you were safe enough with everyone asleep now that you’d arrived at your destination (except Taehyung, who was still quietly watching Reservoir Dogs on his phone).

“I feel bad doing this,” was what you started with—you needed to make that clear as though it would justify your curiosity. All it really did was intrigue Luna more. “But I feel like I have to know.”

“What is it?” she urged, nearly bouncing with interest as she sat opposite you on your bunk.

So, you told her—in dangerous whispers—about Sid’s revelation regarding the mysterious ex and Jungkook’s subsequent secrecy. Luna listened, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes wide and glistening.

“Alright,” she concluded after you finished. “Here’s what we’re going to do – I’ll ask Taehyung to confirm if there’s any truth to this. That’s first of all. Because, let me be honest with you, everything that Sid told you sounds like he just pulled it out of his ass.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you nodded, “but then Jungkook said it’s true. Why would he lie?”

“I don’t know,” she paused here to think. “Is it possible that he’s just pulling a prank on you? Although I don’t see how anyone would find that funny.”

“Anyone but Sid.”

“Right,” she agreed. “But would Jungkook jump on that? I haven’t really seen him with his friends much, but I assume he draws the line at involving you.”

That was true. All things considered, Jungkook was rarely ever the one who called you for help when he got into trouble—it was usually his friends who did.

“You’re probably right,” you said. Your voice was hopeful, but you could never be fully certain that Jungkook’s friends haven’t pulled him into the metaphorical dark side completely. “But I don’t know what else this could be. He must have dated someone, it’s the only way this makes sense.”

“No—or maybe,” Luna said, her voice rising with sudden excitement. “Maybe he’s trying to get your pity, so you would come to Paris with him.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“Maybe he—” she started, but then stopped herself. Biting her lip, she thought twice about the way in which she’d phrase herself next. She didn’t want to instil some sort of false hope inside of you, but she also wasn’t sure if you’d even care. “I don’t know… Would it be outrageous to guess that maybe he just wants to take you out?”

You lifted your eyebrows and couldn’t resist a scoff.

“Unless it’s with a sniper, yes,” you said. “That would be outrageous.”

“Oh, come on,” she rolled her eyes at your absurd dramatics. Her suggestion seemed far more plausible to her, especially after she heard your jeering response, which obviously came from your personal discomfort, and not genuine disbelief. She pointed out, “you dated.”

“Four years ago,” you reminded her in turn. “I barely even remember the relationship or the break-up anymore.”

Luna caught the tentative tone in your voice—like you wanted to believe what you were saying, but couldn’t quite manage it, yet you hoped it wouldn’t show.

It showed. And it gave Luna a pause.

Distracted from the topic of Jungkook hypothetically wanting to take you out on a date, she asked, “why did you break up?”

You and Luna had been friends before you became Rated Riot’s manager (funnily enough, she was the one who introduced you to their music after you mentioned that you might start working with them) – but not before you broke up with Jungkook. She’d never met him, but she was one of your closest friends, so she knew of his existence—although the realization that your ex-boyfriend and Jungkook from Rated Riot was the same person, came later.

Despite that, however, the two of you had never really talked about the reasons why you and Jungkook broke up. You’d never talked about that with anyone. There was never any point for that, really – the people who knew you could tell that your relationship had ended long before you two actually broke up.

“Just—things happened,” you said, looking away and waving a dismissive hand around.

“Come on,” she pleaded again. “You were together for three years. What things could have happened to end that?”

You sighed. It wasn’t a secret or anything. This was just something you happened not to talk about. But, you supposed, it wouldn’t make much of a difference if you did.

“It was the same shit,” you began slowly. “His stupid friends. He was getting drunk every night, picking fights, drag-racing, doing other dangerous, dumb things. Then one night, I had to pick him up from the police station after he got arrested with Minjun—”

“Minjun got arrested?” Luna interrupted, her eyebrows rising. She realised she’d spoken too loudly and looked around warily—the bus was quiet, save for the sound of the film on Taehyung’s phone. She continued, quieter, “I always thought he was the most mellow one, out of Jungkook’s friends.”

“I know, right?” you nodded with a relatable smile. “I still think Sid set them up. Anyway, they were spraying graffiti on some abandoned building downtown, and they got caught by someone patrolling the street. So, they ran and, apparently, spat at the officers. Minjun and Jungkook were the only ones who got caught. That was my last straw.”

Your friend nodded, not surprised, but still unsettled to hear that this was something that you’d had to deal with even before you became Rated Riot’s manager. Luna wasn’t sure if she’d have agreed to work with an ex-boyfriend, especially if that meant interacting with his friends—who were a contributing factor to the break-up, as it seemed—again.

“Wow,” she commented, lacking better words.

“Yeah,” you concurred, because, really, that one syllable seemed to sum it up well. “But that was ages ago. I mean, he obviously hasn’t changed much, but I don’t care about it. I mean, I do, but I care as his manager. Not, uh—not personally. Not anymore.”

Luna caught the awkward stuttering and licked her lips as she tried to fight off a smirk.

“Hmm, okay,” she said, crossing her legs on your bunk. “So, if that’s the case, then why do you want to know about this relationship that he might have had?”

Immediately, you felt the need to defend yourself from whatever she was insinuating, “well, because as his manager—”

“Right,” she cut you off, repeating, “so, as his manager, why do you want to know about th—”

“Okay, fine.” You extended a hand to stop her and closed your eyes in defeat when she chuckled. “I want to know, because this person is going to be at the wedding of our mutual friends. It’s very likely that we’ve met before. A-and Jungkook said that this person might be the love of his life.”

Luna stopped laughing immediately.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “He said that?”

You brought your tongue over your dry lips. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” she repeated.

“Yeah. I-I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not—not heartbroken or anything—”

“No, of course not.”

You gave her a look. “I’m just being careful. Because he isn’t. And if this person is anything like his friends, then… you know. It’s not good.”

You couldn’t find a better explanation why that wasn’t good or why this situation required your interference, but Luna understood. She likely understood this better than you did; your mind was still clouded with convictions that you were only doing this for the sake of the band.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “That’s fair enough.”

This was why you loved her: she didn’t just understand you—wordlessly sometimes—but she also knew when to ask and when not to ask questions.

“Thing is, though,” you continued, folding your legs under yourself as you tried to handle the sudden anxiety that came with talking about this. “What do I tell him? If this person really is bad for him, what do I say without seeming, I don’t know, crazy? Because, when it comes to this, there’s a very thin line between being a concerned manager and a bitter ex-girlfriend. And I’m already overstepping all boundaries by talking to you about this.”

Luna didn’t think you were doing anything crazy—the two of you had done far more plotting over the years—as she tapped her index finger against her lower lip.

“Okay, let me think for a second.” She watched the ceiling of your bunk for a minute or two before asking, “okay, has he, uh—has he been in love with anyone other than you?”

This was an uncomfortable question; she could already tell before she even asked it—and your reaction was intense as you shrunk into yourself and pulled further away from her.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“Don’t be humble,” she scolded kindly.

You clicked your tongue. With your face burning—for no reason other than your own discomfort and, possibly, insecurities—you looked down and shrugged your shoulders, as if this gesture could reduce the weight of your confession.

“No,” you said. “He hasn’t. To my knowledge.”

“Okay,” Luna replied as quickly as she could, knowing that an awkward silence would follow otherwise. “So, once upon a time, he probably thought you were the love of his life. He was wrong, right?”

You swallowed, still not looking up. “Right.”

Luna paused here, thrown off yet again by the lack of conviction in your voice. Normally, you were overly composed and not at all hesitant when it came to this. But not tonight.

It’s been four years, you had said, trying very hard not to hesitate. I barely remember the break-up.

This persistent uncertainty that Luna kept noticing interested her. It interested her even more than your evident stiffness—even embarrassment—about the fact that Jungkook had never been in love with anyone else but you.

She squinted her eyes at you, while you focused on the duvet underneath you, tracing the pattern with your thumb.

There were seven people on this bus, only two of whom had been in the relationship that was currently under discussion, and yet Luna could have sworn there wouldn’t be anyone who could say that Jungkook had really been wrong about this. That you weren’t the mythical love of his life. That he didn’t love you anymore.

Truly, she realised—not a single person who knew you two, could have said this with certainty. Not even you.

“Right,” she echoed nonetheless—she was making a point, after all. “So, then if he was wrong once, he could be wrong again. Tell him that.”

She extended her hands to signal the ingenuity—and the sheer simplicity—of her plan, and you had to give her a respectful nod as you finally met her eye.

“Okay,” you said, “I guess that could work.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, although she thought you both knew that you’d just be pretending if you used this as an argument against Jungkook.

A small part of her—more chaotic than her other parts—wondered what would happen if you confronted Jungkook about this. If you asked, point-blank, if he’d ever felt like you were the love of his life and if this feeling ever left him.

But she knew you’d never do it. She supposed that the secrecy surrounding your relationship wasn’t just a front for your friends—the two of you didn’t speak much about it to each other, either.

Not to mention, you couldn’t even use the words “love” and “life” in one sentence without looking like you were being executed in front of the whole town.

Exhaling as she watched you get lost in your own thoughts, Luna extended her legs over the ledge of your bunk. “Okay, I’ll go back to Taehyung and—”

You blinked in sudden panic. “Don’t ask him now, though! He’ll know we just talked about this.”

She looked at you with disdain. “Do you think this is my first time gathering intel behind someone’s back? I got this.”

She was right, of course. You had no reason not to trust her; the two of you had done a lot of sleuthing together in the past.

That was why you’d texted her tonight—because she was the one who could give you a different perspective. And in case her perspective matched yours, she was the one who’d help you find the answers you were looking for.

“Okay,” you said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she replied as she stepped out of your bunk and gave you one more look over her shoulder before she returned to her boyfriend. “Get some sleep.”

Jungkook continued to be evasive the whole day in Warsaw, but, then again, you didn’t talk to him much. You trusted Luna to get to the bottom of this, and focused on your job instead.

And your job needed focus.

Jett Records called to check in—as if they could sense that you were planning a secret trip to France with the band’s vocalist tomorrow. And then you were contacted by radio hosts from Germany and England – they were interested in interviewing the band, so you had to adjust the daily schedules.

On top of that, Hoseok’s drum pedals started to malfunction during the soundcheck, so you and Jimin – the sound technician and an avid drum enthusiast – spent the whole afternoon travelling to various music stores to find a replacement. Jimin insisted he could repair it, but he spent an hour just trying to figure out what the issue was, so you guessed it’d be faster to get a new one.

As it turned out, it wasn’t faster at all. Obviously, neither of you spoke Polish, and, just like the Rated Riot members themselves, Jimin was also very directionally challenged—yet he refused to let you use the map on your phone. Fortunately, both of you were also stubborn, so you huffed and cursed, but you found the bloody pedal in the end.

You were drained by the time Rated Riot stepped on stage for their performance that night, but you’d fixed the drums and gotten everything under control—and that felt good.

You’d done your job well today and all the unexpected errands successfully distracted you from the upcoming trip to Paris.

Once everyone gathered backstage after the show, you and Jungkook were the only two people glancing at your phones and exchanging conspiratory looks, while everyone else had drinks and sang along to Reconnaissance on the speakers—it was long established that this was the band that Rated Riot looked up to at the moment.

You didn’t mind. Reconnaissance had sold out Wembley Stadium on their third European tour. If Rated Riot continued down the path they were on now, their own third visit to the continent could take place in similar venues.

However, you couldn’t just sit here with a soft smile as everyone danced around you, because the train from Warsaw left early in the morning.

This proposed another problem: you hardly wanted to inform everyone that you were going to spend the band’s day off travelling to a wedding in Paris with Jungkook. You debated taking the illness route – surely no one would bother you if you drew the curtains on your bunk on the bus and hung a note, claiming you weren’t feeling well.

But before you could decide on any course of action, Jungkook stood up from his seat next to you and declared to everyone in the room, “we’re going sightseeing around Europe tomorrow. So, if any of you need us, don’t.”

“Around Europe?” Yoongi repeated with an amused scoff. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we’re going to be taking trains to places,” Jungkook explained so very concisely. “And we don’t want anyone to bother us.”

Feeling hot all of a sudden—because the way he was describing this was painfully ambiguous—you stood up, too, and tried to do damage control, “what he means is—”

“Have fun, guys,” Hoseok interrupted, gently brushing his hand against your shoulder as he walked past. “It’s our day off, you deserve some rest, too.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting—you were, after all, the manager; and leaving the band so suddenly for the whole day wasn’t, exactly, permitted—but perhaps you should have known better.

All of you spent so much time together that every single staff member in this room felt more like family than your actual family did sometimes. You should have guessed they wouldn’t look down on you for doing this.

Still, you reminded everyone, “if you need me, you can call me. I’m still available, okay?”

Everyone nodded with good-natured chuckles as Jungkook pulled you towards the door—all while you waved your phone around to accentuate your availability.

Because of this, you missed the meaningful glances exchanged between Jungkook and his friends—Sid, Jude, and Minjun were oddly quiet now that Rated Riot, as well as other staff, were in the room with them.

“Don’t call her,” you heard Jungkook whisper at his bandmates as the two of you exited the room into the hallway. “She’s not available.”

Smacking him on the shoulder—and ignoring the annoyed, “ow, for fuck’s sake, this is my singing arm!”—you closed the door of the changing room, but not before adding a rushed, “call me, seriously!” at the guys inside.

You saw them smile and wave before the door clicked shut, and you exhaled slowly.

“This trip better be worth it,” you warned Jungkook as the two of you walked towards the back exit.

“It will be,” he assured you, still rubbing his shoulder. “This is going to bruise, by the way.”

“It’s not going to bruise. I barely touched you.”

“Don’t gaslight me. I’m in pain.”

You stopped walking to glare at him.

“I apologise for hurting you,” you said with a deadpan expression. “Would you like me to put ice on it? A bandage? Kiss it better?”

He removed his hand from his shoulder and turned away very ceremoniously. “Don’t baby me.”

You pushed the exit door open and waved your hand to allow him to leave first. “Then don’t act like a baby.”

He walked out, all while mumbling in discontent, “I’m taking you to a wedding in Paris as my date. You could be grateful.”

Your mouth nearly fell open at his audacity as you followed him outside, the door slamming shut behind you.

“I’m going to a wedding in Paris as your date,” you retorted. “You could be grateful.”

At first, he tried to think of a witty comeback while you browsed your phone to order an Uber, but then he realised that wouldn’t be fair and chose to be honest instead.

“Okay, fine. I am grateful,” he admitted.

You ordered the ride and locked your phone, crossing your arms as the two of you stood in the nearly empty parking lot, illuminated only by a few stray street lights.

“And I am sorry if I really hurt you,” you replied. “I don’t usually use violence.”

Jungkook grinned. “You couldn’t throw a punch even if you tried.”

You lifted your eyebrows and raised a fist. “You want to actually see me try?”

There was an impressed twinkle in his eye. “I thought you said no violence.”

“You challenged me,” you replied, taking half a step back to get into a proper boxing position. His lip twitched in a smile as you said, “I’m really just proving a point.”

“The only point you’re proving is the one I made,” he said, nodding at your stance, “that is not how you fight.”

You looked down at your legs. “What’s wrong with—”

You felt a quick, but gentle poke under your chin that sent your head backwards. Jungkook snickered, pulling away.

“And don’t ever look away from your opponent,” he added. “Can’t believe I have to teach you that.”

Your gaze was murderous when you looked at him again. You gathered your legs and stood up normally.

“I am going to wait until you fall asleep on the train,” you said, “and leave your ass in Cologne before our transfer.”

“If you think I won’t find my way back to you,” he replied, “you don’t know me at all.”

Your annoyed expression prompted his amused grin to widen before he puckered his lips and smacked them, a mocking air kiss.

Your glare remained as you stuffed your tongue into your cheek. “You make me so miserable sometimes.”

Chuckling in response, he pointed at the headlights approaching you two from across the parking lot. “I think that’s our Uber.”

Immediately, you made your way towards it. “I’m sitting at the front.”

He caught up with you with one quick stride. The car stopped on the edge of the parking lot as the driver seemingly noticed the two of you.

“Absolutely not,” Jungkook said, knowing you’d rather crawl than endure small talk with the driver. “You’re sitting with me in the back. Or we’re both walking to the train station.”

“I really regret the day I met you,” you informed him.

“No, you don’t,” he argued brightly. “I’m a gift.”

“A gift from hell.”

He laughed as he opened the back door for you, only entering the car after you got comfortable in the furthest corner. Smug, he slid down the backseat until he was right next to you, even though there was plenty of space for, at least, four people here.

Even though you rolled your eyes at him, it’s been a while since the two of you played around like this—like you weren’t simply working together—and you had to resist a smile.

The two of you merely glanced at each other before looking away again as you violently repressed all the memories that this moment outside in the parking lot had brought back.

You and Jungkook were already on the 4 AM train when Luna texted you, “not true!!! TH knows for a fact that JK was sleeping around w Sid's girls when he was in that ‘relationship’. He definitely lied to you!!”

Swallowing—because, suddenly, this made less sense—you lifted your eyes from your phone to look at Jungkook. He was sitting across from you, leaning his elbows on the fold-out table between you in the private compartment of the train.

He wasn’t looking at you as he filmed the view outside the train window (although there wasn’t much to film, it was still dark outside, save for the occasional street light somewhere far in the distance), but he felt your eyes quickly enough. As soon as he turned his head in your direction, you looked down at your phone again.

You didn’t understand. Why would he lie to you?

You typed back a quick, “thanks,” to Luna, and then cleared your throat, putting your phone on the table.

“So, uh,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “How are you feeling? I realise I never asked you.”

He frowned. “What do you mean? You ask me that almost every day.”

“But not about the break-up,” you clarified, trying to sound as genuine as you could under the circumstances. “Must have been difficult. How long ago did you say you broke up?”

You watched as he clenched his jaw and returned his attention to his phone, proceeding with the video.

“I told you I’d rather not talk about this,” he replied decidedly enough.

“And I told you I’d only come with you to Paris if you talked to me,” you pushed.

Swallowing the unpleasant feeling in his throat, Jungkook finally stopped recording. He clicked something on his phone—just stalling, you were sure of it—and then finally put his phone on the table next to yours.

He’d dug this hole himself—well, actually, Sid dug this hole for him, but he leapt into it voluntarily. Now he had to find a way out.

“Fine,” he said. “I don’t remember exactly when. Maybe two weeks before we left for tour.”

Huh. Sid had said it was four days before the flight to Prague. What were the odds that his useless friend remembered the break-up more vividly than Jungkook himself?

“Right, right.” You nodded, abandoning all sensitivity now that the chances of this being true diminished even more. Unless he cheated on his partner—repeatedly, apparently—he was lying straight to your face. “Did you ask why? Did you, maybe, do something that would have—”

“Are you saying it’s my fault?” he interrupted loudly enough to make his anger seem genuine.

You blinked, momentarily surprised.

“I’m not saying,” you defended. “I’m asking.”

You supposed you could have given him the benefit of the doubt here – that was easier to do than to think of reasons why he’d feel the need to lie about a break-up or a relationship. But Jungkook wasn’t the type to cheat—then again, was anyone, really, the type?

That being said, if Taehyung knew that Jungkook was sleeping around at the time of the supposed relationship, then perhaps these things could have been happening simultaneously. Perhaps his partner found out and broke up with him.

“It sounds like you’re accusing me,” Jungkook said, his gaze firm.

Keeping eye contact, you countered, “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Is it so hard to believe that someone would break up with me?” he asked. “You’ve done it, too.”

Nearly flinching at the abrupt—but factual—accusation, you looked down.

“Okay,” you said as your fingers found the edges of your phone case to toy with. His unexpected statement had cut your interrogation short. “I’m just trying to see what the odds are of you getting back together with this person. If that’s still something you want.”

Jungkook looked away, too, watching the darkness outside of the window. “I’m still thinking about it.”

Unsure what to make of that—especially since now you knew that there was, most likely, no person for him to get back together with—you only hummed in response.

“Let’s just make it to Paris and we’ll see,” he added, honest this time. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

It was you who lied this time as you gave him a small nod of agreement. “Yeah. Sure.”

That was the extent of your conversation on the topic: he didn’t pursue it further—which would have been weird in any case, considering how much he cared about being taken seriously; and he could see that you were having doubts now—and neither did you. You obviously had more questions, but you knew they’d only work as an opening for him to lie further.

You thought that, if you didn’t know that he was lying, you would have had to respect his decision not to give you more details, even though you were curious. He’d applied the same method to your own relationship, after all. You’d always appreciated it, regardless of how obnoxious it seemed to your friends sometimes—the relationship stayed between the two people that were in it.

But he wasn’t in a relationship now. Not as far as Taehyung and Luna knew.

And yet, this didn’t feel like a good time to get into an argument. Regardless of his motives for this lie, you were on a train to Paris with him. You’d be going to your friends’ wedding together. Then, you’d be taking another train back to join the tour.

You could play along for a short while—if anything, just so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable for the entirety of the upcoming 24 hours.

Finally, after two transfers – one in Berlin, and one in Cologne – you had four hours left until you’d arrive at Gare du Nord in Paris. Taking a plane would have required less time and fewer layovers, but it was impossible to find a flight on such short notice, especially when you were on a budget.

Another two hours later, as Jungkook began to wake up from his nap, you figured it was a good time to change into a more appropriate outfit for the wedding – you’d worn a grey tracksuit for the train ride – so you grabbed your overnight bag and headed to the bathroom.

At this point in your journey, you’d nearly forgotten the unsuccessful conversation that you’d had about his ex, and you were surprised to realise that not knowing the whole truth didn’t bother you much. The gentle rocking of the train was soothing—calming, even. And the idea that you’d see your old friends soon felt exciting, too.

There were many other things you could have focused on—and you did. Even though some of the distracting thoughts that you had, weren’t, exactly, a better alternative.

Changing in the cramped bathroom of a moving train was about as uncomfortable as one could imagine, but it was nothing you hadn’t done before. And, now that you thought about it, you realised that you and Jungkook had done a lot more in train bathrooms than just changing clothes.

The unexpected memory forced you to bump your head into the sink as you took your sneakers off, and you cursed quietly under your breath.

You weren’t sure why you were remembering this now, but you were alone, thankfully, and had enough time to shake these thoughts out of your head as you slid your sweatpants down your legs and pulled the burgundy, off-the-shoulder dress out of your bag.

The dress had wrinkled a bit, but you had packed a leather jacket just in case—it would certainly divert the attention, considering the huge skull on the back of it.

However, looking at the jacket now, you were forced to remember where you got it. You’d had it for so long, you didn’t think anything when you packed it. But now you could remember Jungkook being there with you the day you first saw it. The two of you had only stopped at the clothing store because it had begun to rain—rain seemed to surround your relationship—and neither of you had an umbrella.

While you were looking for one in the accessory section, Jungkook approached you with this jacket and a big grin.

“You already have one like this,” you had told him then.

“I know,” he’d replied, beaming. “Now we can match.”

The jacket wouldn’t have meant anything if you weren’t on this train now. It would have just been a jacket—like any other piece of clothing that you’d worn before you broke up—if you weren’t going to Paris with him. If you weren’t remembering all of these useless moments in your life; meaningless, really, until your heart rate picked up.

Mumbling a few more curses, you put on the only heels you’d packed for the tour. They were far too chunky to go with the dress, but they seemed to go with the jacket—and you didn’t have any alternatives anyway. You had planned the outfit before you could plan the mess of thoughts in your head.

Another ten minutes later, you finally exited the bathroom and saw that there was already a small queue outside. Apologizing—and blaming the dumbfounded looks on people’s faces on your hair; you could tell it was everywhere, but not anywhere it needed to be—you jogged back towards your compartment, sighing in relief when you slid the door closed.

When you turned around, Jungkook was watching you with slightly parted lips.

You could tell he recognised the jacket.

“Shut up,” you said right away, unsure if he was going to tease you about it or mock the fact that you were dressed up for a festival rather than a wedding. “I didn’t bring enough clothes. And I know my hair looks like it’s moving to Argentina to start an independent—”

“No,” he cut you off with enough force to surprise himself, and then stuttered his way through something that was supposed to be a sentence, “it, uh—it looks—it’s—you’re, uh—it’s great. It’s fine.”

You snorted as you looked for a hairbrush in your backpack. “It’s great and it’s fine. Thanks.”

“I meant—” he began, but then gave up. He couldn’t look at you in this dress with the jacket that he got you, breathe, think of what to say, and actually speak at the same time. That was four things and he could barely stop doing the first one. “I should—I’m going to go change, too.”

“Sure,” you muttered distractedly, finally finding the hairbrush and the pocket mirror that you were looking for—but missing the way Jungkook looked back at you as he walked away.

The only time he stopped glancing back at you was when he nearly tumbled into a snack trolley and, once he walked around it, you were already out of his field of vision.

He needed cold water first and foremost, because for a good minute there, it seemed as though there was no way around the fact that Sid had been right. He did still have feelings for you.

Jungkook never flirted with you outright since you began to work together, but, of course, he still thought you were beautiful to the point where his knees felt wobbly when he was in the same room with you sometimes, and his breath got caught in his throat if you looked at him for longer than a minute.

He was a professional, not a blind idiot.

But that was physical attraction. Momentary reminiscences of your past relationship. He was grateful for these memories sometimes when he was writing songs. But he couldn’t have real, actual feelings for you. It’s been four years.

This was just the dress—it was the same colour as the skirt you’d worn on your third date, when you went to get fast food and he accidentally dropped an open packet of ketchup on you. You’d laughed and told him it was fine; you couldn’t see the stain anyway. You’d joked that that was why you’d worn this skirt—because you knew what a klutz he was.

Or maybe it was your hair—it looked like the same mess as it had when he rented out a convertible for your first anniversary and took you for a ride. It was early September, and he had thought it would be nice and warm, but within the first five minutes, both of your mouths were full of bugs, and you couldn’t hear a word the other one was saying through the sound of the wind. He had to pull over on the side of the road. The two of you needed a good minute to stop laughing at how ridiculous you looked before you could clean yourselves, because you had dinner reservations at a restaurant in town in an hour—he could still feel the softness of your hair as he untangled it with his fingers.

Or maybe it was the way you were completely unaware of this—like the first time he took you to meet his parents and you’d hyperventilated the whole bus ride to their house. You were nineteen, much too young for something as serious as meeting each other’s families, but he was completely calm. You’d asked him what would happen if his parents hated you. What about his grandma? His aunts and uncles? His cousins? His brother? Jungkook lived with an abundance of close and more distant relatives—what if they opposed the relationship? What if they told you to leave?

He’d never told you, but every time his grandmother had a better day, she still asked him about you.

Or maybe it was just you—like the first time he saw you at the Freshman Orientation in university. You’d been discussing Howl’s Moving Castle with someone with such intensity that he could see the fire in your eyes from across the room. He found out you’d seen every Studio Ghibli film before he even met you. And he fell in love with your eyes when you spoke about the things you loved before he said one word to you. He’d never believed in love at first sight, and not until years later, did he realise how utterly stupid it was not to believe in something that had happened to him, and kept happening every time he saw you, until, finally—a whole year later—he gathered enough courage to approach you and tell you that he liked My Neighbor Totoro, too.

Shit, shit, shit.

Shit.

When Jungkook returned to your compartment about fifteen minutes later, you were the one who needed a second to get yourself together.

He was wearing a black dress shirt under a black suit jacket with glossy, vertical stripes, embroidered with glittery beads that caught the sun rays and—as usual—reflected them right in your eyes when you looked up at him. Black suit pants and Oxford platform shoes finished his outfit—ironically, fit for both, a wedding and a funeral.

“Nice jacket,” you said, purposefully looking away and busying yourself with your backpack even though there was nothing useful in it for you now. “Tour wardrobe?”

“No, actually, this one’s mine,” he replied, looking down at his clothes. “I’d never worn it before. Very Prince. Didn’t think I could pull it off.”

“Hmm,” you glanced at him again, then looked back at your belongings—this was the only way you could remain coherent enough. “You’re pulling it off well.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a small smile as he took his seat in front of you.

You’d endured nearly fourteen hours of travel time – one hour left until Paris – and, unbelievably, this was the first time that this trip got awkward: right now – with the two of you sitting in front of each other, in your wedding guest outfits, not knowing what to do with your eyes or your bodies or your minds.

You weren’t sure what your role was anymore. You weren’t, technically, on tour with him right now, so you could hardly call yourself his manager here—if anything, you were breaking the rules that a manager should have enforced.

You supposed you could have called him a friend. He was the one person you knew the longest—he knew things about you that no one else did.

But, at the end of the day, he was also your ex-boyfriend. And, suddenly, four years didn’t seem that long ago as your relationship came rushing back at you with full force.

A little over three years together—exactly one-thousand, one-hundred and eighty days; the last eighty had seemed never-ending back then, as your relationship began to wither—and now you were trying your hardest to pretend like you didn’t feel the dangerously strong, almost magnetic pull towards each other.

You hoped this was just the air in Paris. Things would go back to the way they were once you joined the rest of the band on tour in Berlin.

Jungkook knew this wasn’t the air and it wasn’t just Paris. But he thought he could pretend it was.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “take me first”

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook reaction #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #bts rockstar au #bts au #bts x reader #jungkook rockstar au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic

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alittlebitofsainz · 4 days

Text

- you swear that you listened -

prompt: “so take me to every party and just talk to your friends.”

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: why did he even bring you to meet his friends if he was going to forget you even existed? featuring an important conversation and a dog at the party

a/n: lyrics from track #65 - worst of you by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“babe, what’s up with you? you’ve been quiet all night.”

“yeah, maybe it’s cos you didn’t talk to me for the entire time.” you shot back, both your words and tone harsher than you’d intended. logan was silent after that, and you stole a glance across to him sat in the passenger seat, immediately feeling guilty when you saw the wounded look on his face. you turned your gaze back to the road ahead with a heavy sigh.

it wasn’t really your fault that you were in such a bad mood; it had been your first time meeting a bunch of his childhood friends, stressful enough without the added bonus of you being the designated driver, so you had had to watch everyone slowly getting more and more intoxicated while you nursed the same diet coke for three hours straight. you’d offered to stay sober, but only because logan had emphasised that he hadn’t seen these friends in years, and it would be really nice to catch up with them over a beer, and you don’t really drink that much anyway, so you don’t mind driving, right?

“I don’t mind.” you’d said, because you knew logan had been having a tough season, and you wanted nothing more than to see him enjoying himself with his friends. and you. that had been the key part that was missing. you tried to join in on their conversations, you really did, but they were full of stories from the time before you even knew logan, sentences always seeming to start with “do you remember when…”. and every time you tried to speak up, to input something, the topic would change again, someone speaking over the top of you to remind the group of another funny anecdote from their past. you tried to catch logan’s eye, but to no avail, too wrapped up in old memories and the beer in his hand.

eventually you’d made an excuse about going to find the toilet, and disappeared off into a living room that no one was in. you weren’t even sure whether logan had noticed you were gone; you could still hear the ringing of his laughter drifting through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. at the least the dog came to find you. dogs were always the best thing at parties.

the worst part was that you didn’t know how to handle this. it had never happened before, you weren’t used to it. logan was always so attentive, so loving, so caring. he never failed to tell you, or show you, how much you really meant to him, his light shining through the darkness that had been this rollercoaster of a season. but around his friends, he just seemed different. like he’d forgotten you were even there.

the silence lasted the rest of the drive home. you once risked a glance across to logan, but his head was turning away, chin resting in his hand, his elbow propped against the passenger window, looking out at the world passing by as if he was deep in thought. from this angle, you couldn’t read his expression. you didn’t know if you even wanted to.

“I’m sorry, please, y/n, if I’ve done something wrong…”

logan tried again as you entered his apartment, his words slurred slightly, reminding you that now wasn’t time for this conversation when he was several beers deep and you were stone cold sober.

“really, lo, it’s…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it’s fine, so you just shook your head instead. “let’s just talk about it in the morning, okay?” you murmured, catching a glimpse of his crestfallen expression as you passed by him, a sight that made your heart ache. you both got ready for bed without speaking again, the tension in the air uncomfortable.

and when morning rolled around and the sun filtering through the curtains woke you from sleep, you found yourself still reluctant to talk about it. you rolled over, turning to face logan, only to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you.

“you were mad at me.”

you bit back a sarcastic good morning to you too. now was not the time.

“what?” you tried feigning ignorance, voice quiet.

“last night, you were mad at me.” logan repeated, and you realised you weren’t getting out of this one. “why? I don’t get it; did you not have a good time?”

you blinked, letting his word settle in your mind, before your brows folded into a soft frown.

“you didn’t even notice?” you murmured, knowing what the answer would be.

“notice what?” logan’s face scrunched up in confusion, searching back through his memories, desperately trying to remember something specific in the haze of what had happened last night. you sighed. it was the answer you’d been expecting, and dreading.

“I left, like, halfway through. went and sat in the living room. alone.” you explained, trying to spell it out for him. logan’s confused expression deepened.

“w- wha- why?” he stuttered, propping himself up on his elbow, “baby, you should’ve told me if you weren’t having a good-“

“I tried to!” you cut him off sharply, tone growing exasperated, “I tried to, but I couldn’t get your attention. not even for two minutes. it felt like I wasn’t even there.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but found nothing to argue back with. now that he thought about it, you were right. he had barely noticed you, once he was surrounded by his friends and stories of old times, and he felt fucking awful about it.

“I’m sorry. oh, fuck, babe, I really am sorry.” he stammered, trying to get all his apologies out at once, words tripping out over his tongue. you both appreciated and hated seeing him so remorseful; you knew you couldn’t just let it slide, or it would only happen again and make you feel worse, but at the same time you knew logan was genuinely sorry.

“it’s okay, lo.” you reached out a hand, taking his in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. he drew in a soft breath, as if he expected a fight instead of forgiveness, and when his eyes met yours again they were glistening with unshed tears of remorse, “it was an accident, I know you didn’t mean to. everyone makes mistakes, right? we’re learning together.” you continued, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched him relax slightly, tension leaving his shoulders. he nodded, ducking his head away to try and hide the tear thar had slipped down his cheek.

“right,” he agreed shakily, “I’m still sorry I made you feel forgotten about, really. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know.” you replied softly, releasing his hand from yours and instead holding out both your arms as a silent invitation. logan was only too happy to accept, shuffling across the bed towards you and burying his head into the crook of your neck, your arms securing around his back. you felt him take a deep breath into your shoulder, chest rising deeply before falling back down again.

“I really love you, you know that, right?” he murmured, voice muffled as he rested his cheek against your skin. you chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I know. I love you too, Lo.”

a/n: i tried so hard to leave this on a more angsty ending but honestly i just can’t be mean to logan for more than five seconds he deserves happiness even if its just in fictional form

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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throneofsapphics · 7 months

Note

Part two to up all night? It’s such a funny idea 😂

up all night (part two)

(part one)

Azriel x Reader x Cassian

Summary: You, Cassian, and Azriel get into a small argument.

Warnings: a bit of suggestiveness

A/N: thank you for requesting it!

“You were at the Riverhouse,” Azriel commented, the corners of his mouth turning up. You weren’t really angry, but his amusement pissed you off.

“You weren’t meant to hear that.” Cassian said, distracting you from glaring at the shadowsinger.

“Oh?” You slowly turned your head back to face him. Cassian inhaled sharply, seeming to realize he’d said the exact wrong thing. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk shit about your mate.”

Azriel’s hand landed gently on your shoulder, drawing your attention back to him, “and you’re the one that said it,” you snapped.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder. “Well,” you huffed. “Nobody likes a pissy Cassian.” You could almost feel the wince from the male in question, at how you said his name.

“Y/n,” he called as you stalked off to the bathroom. “It’s a compliment.”

You slammed the door anyway, hearing their hushed voices outside - too low for you to distinguish what they were saying. The smooth wood dug into your back as you slid down against it, sitting on the floor with your head held between your hands. You weren’t exactly fair to them, and knew it wasn’t meant in any harsh or derogatory way, but it still got on your nerves. Guilt started to sweep into you at how aggressive you’d been. You were always a gentle person, not really prone to snappy comments or arguments.

You shoved the thoughts away and rose back to your feet, quickly going through the movements to get ready for bed. The door creaked open behind you, and you spotted Azriel in the mirror. Your hand paused, halfway through brushing your hair. He slowly made his way over to you, stopping so just an inch was between your bodies. His scarred hand wrapped around your, and he tugged the hairbrush away from you.

“Let me,” he said quietly, and started working through the slight tangles in your hair. He was always gentle, making sure nothing would tug or make you wince. He methodically worked his way through, and you knew this was his way of apologizing to you. Azriel always tended to apologize through actions, or little acts of service, while Cassian would whisper them over and over again, until you told him to shut up.

“I’m sorry.” He said, almost quiet enough you didn’t pick up on it. A shadow swirled around your hand, a gentle and comforting caress.

“It’s .. I overreacted,” you admitted, begrudgingly, and watching his expression in the mirror.

“Maybe a bit,” he gave you a small smile, tugging on your hair when you rolled your eyes. “Someone else wants to apologize,” he whispered, kissing the side of your neck, and tugging you out of the room.

Cassian stood a few feet away from the door, looking vaguely like a kicked puppy, but his eyes lit up when he saw the soft smile on your face.

“I’m sorry-” you both said at the same time. He snorted and tugged you forward, wrapping you in a tight hug, propping his chin on the top of your head.

“How do I make it up to you?” He murmured.

“You could …” You pulled back so you could look at him, mischief crossing your features. “Keep me up all night, without getting pissy.”

“That’s a tall ask.” Azriel said from behind you, and you saw Cassian cutting a sharp glare at him. One hand tilted your chin up, and he lowered himself so he was a hairs breadth away from your lips.

“Deal.” You took a step away from him, shrugging out of his arms.

“Maybe next time,” you bit your bottom lip at the look of dismay on his face. “You have a meeting tomorrow.”

You turned, making sure to flip your hair over your shoulder, and crawled into bed. You vaguely heard Cassian grumble, and the bathroom door open and close.

Azriel slid into bed next to you, pulling you close and guiding you to rest your head against his chest. “That’s my girl,” you heard him say under his breath, and buried your face into him to hide a smile.

#cassian x azriel x reader #azriel x reader x cassian #cazriel x reader #cazriel x y/n #cassian x y/n x azriel #azriel x y/n x cassian #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #azriel x cassian x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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restinslices · 3 months

Text

Stay

Bi-Han x Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 1499

Summary: Just some sad angst about Bi-Han’s significant other leaving him from his POV. Inspired by that scene of Kaz telling Inej to stay and Inej saying she'll have him without his armor. You don't gotta know the scene to know what I'm talking about. Just follow the plot.

Bi-Han had a thousand thoughts spinning in his head and none of them wanted to quiet down.

He couldn't even focus on one. There were multiple voices in his head screaming at him, all of them wanting to be the loudest but all of them failing. It'd been like this ever since you made it clear that you were leaving.

Maybe some of this was his fault. No. Not maybe. This was his fault. He had become neglectful, and the edges he had became sharper and sharper. It seemed like he hurt you every time you got close.

Bi-Han being foolish and prideful thought it'd all go away. There was no need for deep talks, or breathers, or whatever else you managed to think of. He convinced himself it would all smooth over eventually. This was just a rough patch and it didn't seem to actually danger his relationship.

How wrong he was.

Time passed. Neglect built. Finally you two got into a huge argument and it seemed like this tipped the scales against him. You would be leaving.

He stood nearby but refused to look at you. Didn't matter though. His brain punished him anyway, making him relive the moment you slipped your ring off. It slipped off effortlessly, like it was always meant to come off. Like you two were always meant to fail.

Your stuff was gone, so he didn't understand why you were still here, but he didn't complain. You said something about grabbing a necklace, but he never saw you grab it and the last time he looked at you, you weren't wearing one.

Bi-Han had another problem besides his inability to look at you for an extended amount of time. His hands felt empty. He tried to pass time and fill that void by cleaning his mask with a hot rag, but it didn't work. It's not just that his hands were empty, it's that you weren't in them. It was weirdly funny when he thought about it. Bi-Han wasn't big on physical touch and whispering sweet nothings. He was capable of all the cutesy shit that was typical in relationships, he just didn't care for it.

But now? All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you and force you to stay. He wanted to whisper every sweet thought he had about you in your ear. He wanted to praise everything about you, and he didn't mean just your looks. He wanted to praise you about the stupidest things; your walk, how you pronounce certain words, your laugh, how you look when the sun hits you, everything. Anything to make you stay. But he didn't. He stayed silent and he assumed that silence bothered you based on your sigh.

“I guess this is it then” you spoke, and it made his heart clench in his chest as he realized this would probably be one of the last things he heard you say.

He made a small noise of acknowledgement in response.

“Am I to take your grunting as words?”.

“Goodbye” he forced himself to say, but the words came out through gritted teeth. He could hear your footsteps get closer until you were in front of him. Your soft hands touched his, only to slide his mask out his hands and onto the table. He couldn't help but look at you then, taking in and memorizing every feature you had. There were plenty of things you didn't like about yourself. You were only human after all. Bi-Han disagreed about all of it though. If there was one thing he was forced to look at until his final days, he'd choose you everytime. He was just really bad at showing it and he hated himself for it.

“Is… is there nothing else you want to say? Just 'goodbye’?”

“What else should I say?”. You nodded then and a small “ok” left your lips. His fingers started to itch the second you looked away, that emptiness making itself known again. He didn't have his mask in his hands anymore, so his fingers tapped against each other, wanting desperately to grab you.

You had only taken one step.

“Stay”.

He didn't mean to say it. He didn't even notice he said it until you turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Stay” he said more firmly. His hand grabbed your wrist as if that would trap you with him forever. The tapping stopped, finally content now that you were touching. “I want you to stay”.

“And if I don't want to?”

“I need you to stay”.

It went silent then and he wished he could read your mind. Your face gave nothing away but sorrow and as tough as he tried to act, he knew his face looked the same. “I want you…”. He meant to add something else, but what was there to add? He couldn't pinpoint what about you he wanted. He just wanted you. All of you. Good, bad, ugly. He wanted it.

“And how do you want me to be?” You said after a second. “Obedient? Obeying your will? Being at your side when it's convenient and behind you when it's not?”. He looked away, not able to take how your brows furrowed when speaking and his hand slipped from your wrist.

He felt your hand touch his cheek and move his face to look at you. He couldn't help but close his eyes and lean into your touch, finding comfort in how familiar your hand felt against him. The world was incredibly cruel. It gave him the power to freeze everything but time.

“Do you want me to stay silent? To take what you give me and ask for nothing more? To never speak up? To just accept life for what it is?”.

His eyes scrunched together. Each word felt like a dagger being twisted inside him. Your voice narrated his memories and all he could see was how many times he took you for granted. If he could, he'd beat himself over the head and yell at himself to keep you close instead of doing what was natural and pushing you away.

“I want you Bi-Han”.

His eyes opened then, hoping maybe you changed your mind.

“But I want something different. And you… I'm not sure you're capable of change”. Your hand slipped from his face and he immediately grabbed your hand. He was delusional. He hoped the physical contact could somehow reignite the spark. Stupid and wishful thinking, but he hoped the Elder Gods were listening and would answer his prayers.

“I can change” he managed to get out. It was a lot quieter than his previous words, even if he meant for it to come out powerful and assertive. Something had to change your mind and convince you to stay. He'd bring all your stuff back by himself if he has to. He just didn't want you to start moving again.

You sighed and shook your head, “you don't change. This is just who you are and I can't take that from you”.

“Stay with me. Don't go”.

“I thought the Grandmaster would never beg or plead”.

“I do”.

Bi-Han was taught from a very early age that Grandmasters didn't negotiate. They never begged or pleaded or showed any signs of weakness. They ruled over their clan with perfection and always stood tall. Unmoving. There was no such thing as weakness.

But he was so incredibly weak when it came to you. Grandmasters didn't beg or plead but Bi-Han did, and he'd beg over and over for you to stay if it'd work.

That's the thing though. It wasn't working and he knew it.

He was far too late.

“I hope you know I loved you Bi-Han”

“Loved?”

“I love you”

“Then stay”

You smiled then. A smile that had absolutely no joy in it. Only mourning. Your hand slipped out of his and you reached up to wipe away the tears he didn't even know had fell. He wondered why you weren't crying. Whenever you fought recently, you always seemed to cry. Sometimes it'd be a few tears, other times you'd storm away and he'd hear you sob. Did he exhaust you this much? You had no more tears to spill? Did he really push you that far past your limits?

“I hope in our next life we're different. I hope we spend forever together”. Bi-Han wanted to argue with you. He wanted to shout at you and tell you that all of that could happen in this life, but he didn't. You made up your mind. It was clear. He didn't know what to say anymore. You loved him and he loved you so how did he mess it up this bad?

Your hand lingered until it finally left his face for the last time. You walked away, and this time he didn't stop you.

He watched you as you went, replaying your life together in his head and what he should've done differently.

I tried to pick the least threatening gif I saw and that was actually difficult. Where is your kindness sir? Also why is the indented shit spaced out so ugly in the beginning? Summary and word count not having one long line is gonna haunt me.

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #bi han x reader #mk1 bi han #bi han x y/n #bi han x you #bi han imagine #subzero mk1 #subzero x reader #subzero x you #bi han angst #subzero angst #mk1 angst #idk what’s wrong with me #lin kuei

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

Note

omg i need to see “mutual friends alerting the other about something they definitely deserve to know” and “anxiously waiting for them to come home so that they could give them a piece of their mind” please!! i love your angst it’s soul crushingly delicious 🫶

whew i got carried away, but this is a fave out the gate

It started as a dare, a shitty, drunken, jokeable dare.

“I dare you….” Flash hiccups then burps in his hand, he chuckles and throws it at MJ who gags, “I dare you… Y/N…. to kiss Parker.”

You made eye contact with Peter, it was a dumb dare, you were new to the group of friends, but even you could play into the game. You shrug like, ‘what’s the big deal?’ Peter acts the same, he’s not in highschool anymore, he wasn’t scared to kiss girls.

“Okay, let’s go Peter.” You stand to wave him over to the closet, Flash stops you with a buzz sound. “Nope, right here where we can all see.” You look at him oddly, “that’s weird but okay.”

You and Peter are friends, he’s cute sure but you weren’t hungry for his attention, you just thought he was kind and funny, and quiet, but somehow full of charm so when he spoke you made sure to listen. But it’s not like you had a crush on him or anything.

Peter stood in front of you, you stepped closer and pulled his neck towards you.

“Pucker up, parker.”

And… holy shit.

The kiss was like fireworks, a feeling like you’ve never had before. It made your entire body buzz like when you whack your funny bone against a doorframe. Neither of you could pull away, both experiencing what true blissfulness was made of, forgetting the dare you lost yourself into Peter.

Until the group laughs, it makes you feel like this was a set up.

“Not bad, Parker.” You’re breathless.

“Not so bad yourself,” he is too.

You shrug, “a dares a dare, right?”

“Anything to please the peanut gallery,” Flash chugs his cup while Ned counts down.

Something in both your eyes told each other it wouldn’t be the last time.

Safe to say, it was no one's question how you’ve found yourself in Peter Parker’s bed for the hundredth time.

Friends with benefits sucks, give someone the girlfriend benefits, she’ll think she’s the girlfriend. It really, really hurt to find out you weren’t, no matter how aware you were the reality check hit you hard.

“Uh, I don’t…. Look, you and Peter are hooking up right?”

You could deny it, but that would be dumb. The friend group knows it, you both won’t confirm or deny, but when you hook up with someone who’s roommate is in the friend group, people are gonna know.

“Something like that.”

MJ sniffed, “but, you’re not serious right, like you’re not secretly dating or anything?”

You don’t like that she’s asking questions, MJ was one of those ‘the less I know the better’ people, so her asking gave you an edge, there was a reason for the interrogation.

You narrow your eyes, did Peter put her up to this? Does he want to know if you want more, or maybe he’s trying to see if you caught feelings.

“Who’s asking, did Peter put you up to this?”

MJ looks sad when you say that, a small frown pulls at the corner of her lip. “No, nothing like that. I just want to make sure you guys aren’t a thing.”

Why was she acting so odd, this was an one eighty from her normal self.

“What’s with the interrogation, trying to get a job with the FB-”

“Peter’s hooking up with another girl.”

MJ’s voice was rushed, like she had to say it right then or it would be taken to the grave. She gasps for air, like the admission choked her. Your ears ring, head feels hot and fuzzy, your chest clenches, you think you’re going to puke.

MJ repeats your name, you can’t stop reciting her words.

She snaps, you blink. “Oh.”

It shouldn’t hurt like this. It was friendly, it was not supposed to be serious. But then the line between friends with benefits and dating started to blur more and more and suddenly you were only reminded you weren’t dating when you were around your friends. But there was trust, it was supposed to be about trust, and part of that was not hooking up with anyone else. The rules were if either one started to hook up with other people it would stop, but he broke the rules.

You never took Peter Parker to be a rule breaker.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if it was serious between you guys but when I saw him kiss her I-”

You held up a hand, you didn’t want to hear the rest of it. It didn’t matter, he broke a promise, and so did you. No one was supposed to get hurt, and yet here you are ready to break down the second you’re able to get alone.

“Fuck.” you whisper the words, nothing else comes to mind. You just wanted to disappear, everything was numb and you wanted to go back in time three months ago and just take a shot instead of participating in Flash’s dumb dare.

“MJ, I’m sorry but I have to go, I think I have to break up with Peter.”

Her shoulders slump, “do you want a hug? She’s not even a fan of physical affection but you look desperate to be comforted, you wave her off, you tell her if she touches you you’ll cry. She apologizes, she hates that she had to be the one to tell you.

You tell her it’s fine. You say it enough to yourself you start to believe the lie, all you have to do is erase Peter from your place, then he can leave your mind. So, the moment you enter your own apartment, you pick up every piece of his and stow it in a box.

Clothes, games, books, a toothbrush, a watch, even his spare phone charger. Nothing of his was to stay, to solidify the importance of this decision, to prove that you were serious you stripped your sheets and made a trip to the laundry room before sending a text to Peter.

“Come pick up your shit.”

He answered with a question mark, you didn’t even give him the satisfaction of seeing a read receipt.

You felt ballsy, and you even had the fire in you for a minute. But the idea of seeing Peter any minute, and having to confront him, look in his baby brown eyes and pull the plug aches you. It hurt to know that if he had begged and asked for a do over there would be a large chunk of you that would dare say yes, anything to keep him.

But he broke the rules.

Without rules it’s only chaos and destruction, you didn’t need that with him.

You imagine how you’ll do it.

Throw the box at him, tell him it’s over and make him leave? No, you’ll have to see him again.

Tell him he’s a lying piece of shit that broke your heart? No, you’ll have to see him again.

Ask him why he’d do this with you knowing you’d catch feelings? No, you’ll have to see him again.

Yell at him? Curse his name, tell him he’s a monster, that he broke the most important rule? No, you’ll have to see him again.

Tell him you loved him, and you thought he did too?

No, you’ll have to see him again.

It all ends the same, you’ll have to see him again knowing what you had and what he did. Or, you just leave the friend group, it would suck not having friends but you could make new ones, ones you didn’t sleep with no matter how cute, or how good kissing them feels, no matter if they promise they won’t hurt you like the others did.

You washed down the imagery with a glass of wine, nothing felt right and you had no reason to be anxious. You pour another half glass, swig most down, then head to the building’s basement to put your sheets in the dryer.

Nothing feels as right as Peter, you hate that he’s making you do this.

You felt your stomach knot up when there was a knock on the door, you knew it was Peter. Your roommate was at her girlfriend’s and had a key, you only invited Peter over for the night, you wonder if it might be MJ but she would never show up unannounced.

He knocks again, you finish the second glass of wine.

Peter’s face lights up when you swing the door open, his eyebrows rise and so does his grin.

“Hi, baby.” He’s cheerful, dressed in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, his white and blue Nikes poked out the bottoms. He looked adorable and you hated it, you were supposed to hate him, not hug him.

You pointed at his box of things on the coffee table.

“I packed your shit up.”

Peter stepped through the door, looked at you then the box, then you, then the box. Finally, “why?”

“So it’s easier to carry out, silly.”

You wish your sheets were done, your hands need something to do, they’re starting to shake.

Peter shakes his head like he’s trying to wash the response from his head, “why would I need to carry my stuff out?”

This wasn’t a scenario you dreamed up, just being blunt.

“Because I’m breaking up with you.”

Peter’s face twitches, you raise a finger to continue.

“Correction, I’m ending things. To break up we’d have to date, you just fucked me.”

Talk about blindsided. Peter thinks he’s been shot, puts a hand on his chest and slumped in the chair next to the table with his things. He’s checking to see if his heart is still there, it feels like it dissipated the second the words left your lips.

His head falls into his hand, he rubs at his jaw.

“I…” He didn’t know where to go with that.

I thought we had something?

I thought this meant more than that?

I thought I loved you, and you did too?

Instead he sighs, he can’t make you change your mind.

“Okay. Um, okay. Sure.” He slaps his thighs then rubs at them, he doesn’t want to leave, it will feel real.

Finally he looks towards you, “why?” Peter’s voice cracked, he was distraught, if you weren’t so upset yourself you’d want to console him.

You round the corner, you look at his things tucked in the box. Small things, but held memory. The first shirt you slipped on after he came to yours, the toothbrush you made space for on your counter, a comic book he had read you, his wristwatch. It was bulky and digital, you found it on your desk while he was in the shower, you strapped it on but it still loosely dangled, you ran into the bathroom to rip the curtain back, you remember shoving your arm in his face.

“Look at me, I’m go go gadget.”

You didn’t realize you had it in your hand until the watch face blinked at you, that’s when you noticed you were crying.

You were supposed to be tough, he wasn’t supposed to see you cry. You were supposed to hold it together and show that you didn’t need him.

But you weren’t tough, and you were crying, and the one person who could make the hurt go away was the same one that caused it.

“You broke the rule,” your words wavered, you tried to say it strongly.

Peter’s mind is racing, what rule, what rule, what rule?

“MJ told me you hooked up with someone else.”

Confusion fell over his face, if you didn’t trust MJ as much as you did you might question if she made the whole thing up.

“No, I didn’t… I didn’t break the rule.” Peter’s head shakes slowly, he’s trying to piece together the information, he didn’t hook up with anyone else, he swears on it.

You sniffle and wipe at a stray tear, Peter looks at you sad, you know he wants to hold you tight.

“MJ said you were kissing someone else.”

He’s still searching in his mind, you can tell. The new information races through his memory, he’s searching for a kiss, then it clicks, he knows what MJ’s talking about.

“Oh!” He jumps up, he can save this.

“I know what she’s talking about. Yes, MJ is not lying, I did kiss another girl.”

Your face drops, it felt like a suckerpunch when he admitted it. Peter sees the hurt cross over your face, he reaches out for your arms but you shy away, he hates that you won't let him touch you.

“Peter, I don’t… this meant something to me, something really big, and I thought it did for you too.”

Peter doesn’t like how this is going, he can save this, he knows it.

“It did! It does! Just, hear me out, please?”

You don’t say anything but your glance at his face is taken for a go ahead.

“It was at the Bjorn party, I went with MJ and I swear it all makes sense cause she was giving me the stink eye the whole ride home and I had no idea why. But there was this girl there and I swear to you on everything I just walked by and she grabbed me.”

You scoff, “real believable, peter. Next you’re going to say you had no control over it and she threw herself on you?”

Peter winced, “kinda, but not really. She was quick with it, I did pull back but she pulled me back in and I could just see she was… I don’t know, terrified. She looked absolutely petrified and I just knew she needed someone she could trust and I gave her a second to explain. Her ex-boyfriend was at the party and he’d been stalking her and she couldn’t find her friends and she said she was with her new boyfriend but she didn’t have one and he’d been following her around to prove she didn’t have a boyfriend,”

He was just rambling and confusing you now, “where is this going, peter?”

Peter sighed, this time when he reached for your hand you let him grab it.

“She asked if I would kiss her to get her ex off her back, that’s it. MJ must’ve seen me at the right time, but I promise that was it.”

You looked him up and down, he seemed sincere.

“I didn’t even get her name, we didn’t make out either. It was just a peck that lasted like ten seconds, and I would’ve told you, I swear. If I had ever done anything with anyone at any point during this I would’ve told you, but I forgot about it. It was like a favor, and I just didn’t think about it like that.”

“How did you kiss her?”

Peter’s eyebrows turn in, “I just told-”

“No, show me.”

He looks surprised but he won’t ask questions, actually he will ask one.

“Do you want me to replay the exact scene or just the kiss?”

Your eyes sparkled, “if you’re offering a theatrical rendition I won’t say no.”

He looks behind him and pulls you over to the wall, he spins you so your back is against the wall.

“Okay, so I’m gonna walk past you and you need to pull me in by my shirt, got it?”

You bite back a laugh and nod, he returns a grin and jogs backwards. He gets into character and clears his throat, then begins to walk by. You do as he says and reach out, you pull the pocket of his hoodie and tug him into you, on instinct his hand hits the back of the wall and he looks shocked, he pulls himself away.

“Pull me back in, closer this time.” He spoke from the corner of his mouth, you follow instruction. His hips brush against yours, he tries to move away but you improv and hold him to you. “Now start rambling off about your creep ex boyfriend and you want me to kiss you.”

If he wants damsel in distress you’ll give it to him.

The back of your hand comes up to rest against your forehead as you swoon, “oh, mr handsome hero man, please help me, my ex boyfriend, you see, he’s been watching me and i’m all alone and scared and I need a big strong man to bravely kiss me so he’ll leave me alone, are you up to the task my knight in shining armor?”

Peter nods along with your words, “that’s exactly how it happened.”

“And being the man up to the task, I spun her like this,” he pulled at your hip so your right side was pushed against the wall, “so he could get a view, and I kissed her like this,” his hand came up to cup your jaw, but there was no softness. His thumb didn’t brush over your cheek like it normally did, he didn’t brush your hair back or look in your eyes and smile softly, like every moment before kissing you was just a lead up until he could. He just grabbed your face and pulled you in a little, mostly he was leaning to meet you, and placed his mouth against yours.

No flow or movement, just a holding kiss against your top lip. At the last second he pulled and gave you a little movement, nothing more than a few seconds. At max, a ten second kiss. And it lacked everything Peter normally gave you, it was disappointing to say the least. Frustrating and pathetic at most.

Peter could read on your face you absolutely hated that, he understands, it was a shit kiss. But it also wasn’t you he was kissing, so he gave nothing, and he’s showing you exactly how it happened.

“I pulled away first, by the way. And-”

“Peter, I’m gonna need you to kiss me for real, I need to wash that down with something good.”

He hummed, “sure thing, honey.” It was a real kiss, a Peter kiss, the one where he pulls you in delicately, he looks over your face and smiles, his thumb wiped under your eye catching a fallen eyelash. He captures your bottom lip, and breathes into you, you follow his mouth with each movement. He won’t pull away first, he’s already on thin ice, he thinks that for the next week absolutely anything you want will be granted.

When you broke off and his eyes opened you couldn’t help the blush that took over. There’s that love, you say to yourself. You need to hear the rest of the story.

“You may now continue the tale my noble knight,” you bow to him.

“It worked, when we turned around he was gone. She thanked me and then told me she hoped my girlfriend wouldn’t mind me helping her out.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest, a hip cocked out. “Girlfriend?”

Peter laughed, he held a hand over his chest. “I swear to god, she said the only way I would kiss her like that was because I had a girl, she said she could tell and that's why she could trust me. She said something about girl code and helping sisters out but I wasn’t a sister, so that part confused me.”

At last you reached out to hug him, “your girlfriend isn’t mad and she’s glad you helped a sister in need. She also will put your things back where they were.”

Peter’s arms wrap around you just as tight, “did you just become my girlfriend?”

You nod against his chest, your cheek squished against his chest, “yeah,” you dragged out.

Peter squeezed you, like he’s won a golden ticket he mumbles against the crown of your head, “sweet.”

You shove him back in panic, an alarm bell in your head.

“Oh shit! My sheets!”

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fluff #my writing

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pileofmush · 7 months

Note

i have a request for a luffy drabble!! i think he should be making a list/writing a love letter to you specifically :) what would he say?? 🫠💕

details ➸ tags: nothin but fluff! self-indulgent, teehee. // wc 0.7k

a/n ➸ this request is so cute! i'm melting. ty kitty for asking the real questions here.

Hey. Don’t throw this away, okay? This is important.

Read this now.

Duh, Usopp says. Of course you’re reading this right now. He says he’s a very reputable source in the affairs of love—just look at him and Kaya. I dunno what that all means, but I guess he knows what he’s talking about.

Usopp says I should just tell you how I feel. I do that everyday, but he says maybe writing it down would be helpful. You're the one with the fancy words, not me, but I'll give it a try.

So! Finish reading this.

And then read it again when you start to think too much about things that don’t matter. Don’t pretend you don’t do that. I know you, and there’s no point lying to a sheet of paper. So when you go quiet like you sometimes do, and your thoughts start to hurt you, follow my instructions and read this. Then come find me and ask for a hug. ‘Kay? Captain’s orders.

HERE’S SEVEN THINGS I LIKE ABOUT YOU! YES, YOU.

1. Your smile!

Sanji could probably go on and on about how you’re gorgeous, stunning, beautiful—all those words—when you smile. And all those things are true! But you’re also the most… you. When you smile.

You have different kinds of smiles: big ones! Small ones! Encouraging ones! Those smiles that mean you know something I don’t, and you can’t keep it in much longer.

But what I like best about your smiles is when they’re just for me. It feels a bit like a secret. And I don’t like keeping secrets, but I don’t mind those secret smiles you share with me.

2. Your laugh!

Your laugh is so… What’s the word? Contagious. That’s it. You are contagious. Just like your laugh. I like it when you bite your lip to try to hold it in, and when it bursts out anyway. I don’t know why you try. Nothing in the world sounds better than your hyena cackle, trust me. You’d give evil witches a run for their money.

You like to look at me whenever you laugh, I’ve noticed. Like you wanna know if I find it funny too. I don’t think you even mean to do it. You just do. But that’s okay. I’m usually already looking at you.

3. You’re easy to pick up!

If I’m not supposed to throw you over my shoulder and run, why do you make it so easy?

4. You’re expressive!

You like to think you’re so mysterious. Too bad! You’re wrong. I know those books you like to read aren’t “intellectual” like you say they are. Pretty sure they wouldn’t make you squeal and cover your face with your hands if they were. I wish you wouldn’t cover it. I like the faces you make when you’re nervous.

You’re probably nervous right now, aren’t you? You’re so easy to rile up! I like that about you, too. You get sort of mad, sort of not when I point it out. Your eyebrows scrunch and your mouth curves up and you cross your arms, all firm. I never know if you wanna kiss me or hit me. It’s cute. And fun. But wow, do you get a potty mouth when you're really nervous. Your words turn sharp and so does your stare, like you wanna cut me open with your eyes. Like it’s my fault that you’re stuttering out a quick, “Shut the fuck up.” Yeesh. You almost hurt my feelings there!

Just kidding.

5. You’re loud!

Even when you’re quiet. Especially when you’re not.

I like your voice. I like how it sounds when you just wake up. I like it when you finally sing the song you’ve been humming all day. I like it when you organize your thoughts out loud, and when you tell me about a joke Franky made earlier, and when you get real close and whisper things only meant for me to hear.

Sometimes, when I think, it’s your voice I’m thinking in. I like that, too.

So be even louder for me. Okay? ‘Cause everything you say is special, and I wanna hear it all.

6. You’re patient!

And kind. And smart and funny and mine.

7. You’re everything.

I like you ‘cause I like you. Isn’t it obvious? It’s not like I try to hide it.

So don’t hide from me.

—Luffy

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#this is me writing as luffy writing to me... inception #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #fluff #one piece fluff #m.luffy #m.one piece #off the cuff;

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

Note

Hello

Can I ask you to write a fanfic about Mikey (tmnt2012) in which he has Shellacne?how he would behave around reader

THank you

Shellacne (Fluff)

2012!Michelangelo x reader

A/N: Yes you can🧡 I’ve decided to keep it light, focusing on the short time before they learned Mikey sprinkled himself with mutagen because, well… the big shell zits makes me uncomfortable😅 But we can still have some fun! Hope you enjoy!🧡

---------------

Mikey’s shellacne got him hiding in his room, so his brothers asks you to help them get him out.

Warnings: Spelling and a little shellacne.

----------------

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you”, Leo said in a sigh as you entered the lair, looking relieved just by being in your presents. During all the time you had known the turtles, it wasn’t uncommon to see Mikey’s oldest brother in a tired state. And after you started dating Mikey a few months ago, the sight became more and more common. “He has been in there all day and he won’t come out”.

“I came here as fast as I could when I saw your text”, you said, following him through the lair. “But I have to ask, what is shellacne?”, you asked, referencing the text Leo had sent you, rambling on about how Mikey had gotten this shellacne, whatever the hell that was.

“We’re still trying to figure that out”, Leo said, sounding a little unsure. He led the way to Mikey’s bedroom door, where you found Donnie and Raph waiting, both looking tired and frustrated, only to lighten up a little when they saw you walk in.

“Come on, Mikey!”, Donnie said, knocking on the door. “Raph has promised not to call anymore names!”

“You said the same thing last time, before he called me a pickle!”, Mikey yelled from the other side of the door.

“Hey, you have to admit, it was funny”, Raph said, causing his brothers to look at him in anger and frustration. “Or maybe not”.

“Mikey”, you said, knocking on the door. “What’s wrong?”

You heard an audible gasp from the inside of his room, followed by the sound of things crashing to the ground and Mikey yelping.

“(Y/N)!?”, he asked in panic, keeping the door firmly shut as he ran up to it. “What are you doing here?!”

“Your brothers texted me”.

Mikey gasped once more. “I can’t trust you guys at all, can I?!”, he yelled, directing his anger towards his brothers.

“Well, you can’t trust Raph”, Donnie said, feeling his hot tempered brother sending him foul looks.

“Mikey, sweetheart, please let me in”, you said softly, knowing that it usually helped in calming him down. But to your surprise it didn’t calm him down this time. Instead he continued to panic.

“No!”, he yelled. “You can’t see me! Not like this! I look like a monster! A gross, terrifying monster!”

“It’s really not that bad, Mikey”, Leo said.

“That may be easy for you to say!”, Mikey’s voice sounded. “But it isn’t your face that’s covered in zits!”

“Oh, is that what it’s about?”, you said, sounding more surprised than you meant to. “Acne?”

“Well, to be fair, it isn’t just acne. It’s shellacne”, Raph said, stretching his arms as if nothing was bothering him.

“You really aren’t helping”, you told him before turning back towards the door. “Mikey honey, it’s okay. Humans get acne too”.

“Yeah but humans don't look as horrifying with acne!”, Mikey exclaimed.

“I would disagree”, Donnie said deep in thought, making you question when he would have seen an acne prone human.

You sighed. “Mikey, will you let me in if the others left?”

It was quiet for a moment. You could hear Mikey shuffle around uncomfortably on the outside of the door, as he thought about your offer. As much as he feared how you would react to his pimple covered face, he also really wanted your comfort during that moment.

“Okay, but only if the others promise to leave first!”

And so they did. Although reluctantly, Raph, Leo and Donnie promised to leave and then they did, going to the main area to watch TV and read comic books. Once they were gone, you let Mikey know that the coast was clear, before he slowly cracked the door open for you to slip through. Mikey was timid to say the least, when you made your way into his room, fearing your reaction once you saw his face. And to be honest, you had expected worse. The top of Mikey’s head was covered in small pimple-like bumps. You could see how Raph would compare it to the skin of a pickle, as evil as that sounded.

Mikey looked away, expecting you to cry or scream, keeping his distance. But to his surprise, you closed the distance between you, placing your hands on his cheeks to make him look at you.

“You calling this looking like a monster?”, you asked him with a calm smile. Mikey had not expected you to smile at him, nor be this calm, and therefore your actions made his knees weak. Not that it was anything knew. You often had that effect on him.

“I look like a walking pus!”, Mikey cried out, like a toddler that just wanted to be comforted.

“Mikey, honey, it’s not that bad”, you smiled, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You look like a normal mutant turtle with shellacne”.

“You say it like you have seen a lot of mutant turtles with shellacne”, Mikey mumbled, crossing his arms.

You laughed, finding his grumpy face adorable. You couldn’t help it. I was just that adorable, even with his head covered like that. “Mikey, that is not what I meant”, you said, removing one of your hands from his face to take his hand. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you look like a monster”.

Mikey’s big eyes scanned your face, looking for any hint that showed him you didn’t mean it. But you did. Your sweet smile and sincere eyes told him you spoke the truth. You would never lie, especially not to Mikey.

“Really?”, he asked, still feeling the insecurity in his guts.

“Really”, you answered him, placing your arms around his neck so you could pull him down to place a kiss on his beak. Mikey became a blushing mess by this action, melting into your arms, his head falling against your shoulder as he held you close in a hug.

“You’re really sweet, you know that?”, Mikey muttered against your shoulder, his blush still strong on his cheeks.

“You’ve told me a few times”, you chuckled, giving his shoulder a small squish. “Now come. Let’s see if Donnie has a way to get rid of those”, you said, nodding towards his pimples.

“But”, Mikey started pulling you close to him again. “What if they call me names again?”

“Then I will personally give them a beating worse than any training session they’ve ever had”, you said, causing Mikey to crack a smile. You took his hand in yours once again, giving it a small reassuring squish. “Now, let’s go”.

“Okay”, Mikey smiled, letting you lead him out of his room and into the main area. With your hand in his, shellacne suddenly didn’t seem as bad anymore.

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lonelystarrs · 1 year

Text

Divide The Love.

Toji Fushiguro x FemReader x Satoru Gojo

You were supposed to be a one night stand, nothing more, nothing important. So how the hell did the three of you end up in this dynamic? Who knows, who cares.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI • 3some f/m only • smutsmutsmut • drabbles • AU toji/Suguru/gojo were house mates • crack • 🌶️ • poly relationship • healthy relationships • Fluff on both more so Gojo • a bit of everything really • gojo’s scene tho <3 🥹

Word count: 7.1k (I am unwell)

Taxing.

That was what it was to be around you and Satoru.

Amusing.

But oh so taxing.

Toji had all but mastered hiding any hint of amusement when around you both afraid if he ever showed the fact he found you funny he’d never live it down. Your behaviour would be deemed acceptable, Satoru was limitless to his goofiness and the kind of influence you really shouldn’t be around.

Then again you egged Satoru on just as much. Ah who was he kidding. You were as bad as each other.

You were supposed to be a simple one night stand, nothing more and nothing less. You weren’t supposed to be anything special, anything different. Pussy was pussy. Wet was wet.

Yet here you were sitting comfortably between the two men like you’d belonged there from the start. It was coming up to a year since Toji brought you back here. a.fucking.year.

Hell, was he even with his ex wife this long?

He hadn’t had another woman in a year either and truthfully, the thought of it now was kinda a turn off. Maybe it was age, maybe it was boredom of same routines in fucking around. He didn’t look at women like he used to -like an opportunity. Instead they walked by him like everyone else on the street because you plagued his damn mind like a disease.

And quiet frankly he didn’t want the cure.

It was 4 months since Satoru wormed his way in as well, and surprisingly he hadn’t seen anyone else in that time. Toji thought it was a mere one off him joining in one night -a simple threesome to make Satoru stop harping on about his crush on you. Toji thought once he got his fill he’d move on like he always did, he’d get bored and instead he carved a seat for himself and became as invested as Toji.

Unbelievable right?

Suguru used to live in this penthouse with the two men but his passing had brought some changes to Gojo. The dynamic was odd and most people laughed off the idea when they heard you were with the two men. It was impossible, ridiculous and foolish.

“Haha! Right, such a woman doesn’t exists. Putting up with one of you? Let alone both? She a witch or something?”

Maybe you were.

You certainly rivalled most beauty standards without all this crap in your face, make up was only really worn if you done something fancy — you did have a strict skin care routine though.

Speaking of which.

“Can you take this shit off my face now?”

You hummed and looked over your shoulder at Toji who was sat on the couch looking less than fucking amused about the face mask you’d put on him.

Gojo was sat before you with his legs crossed — if he were a dog his tail would be wagging. He was fucking beaming at you whilst you applied the face mask on him, his hair clipped up with some kind of clip Toji had no idea how to even explain —he really didn’t care for girly shit. All he could say was Satoru looked like a cockatoo with his fringe up like that.

“You got another 10 minutes yet, you’re so impatient.”

“I’d use every one of those minutes, you need it old man,”

“Off ya fuck manchild.”

“Don’t be jealous of my baby like skin and good looks, youth is with me!”

You flicked Gojo’s forehead with the mask applicator, a wet slap sounding through the room.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Oh please that didn’t hurt you,”

“It did! Terribly so,”

“Manchild,” Toji repeated whilst he leaned back into the couch again.

What the fuck were they doing? Him, Toji Fushiguro an assassin and Gojo Satoru a leader for a world dominating, family owned corporation sat here wearing face masks because their bratty girlfriend won at some damn video game.

Toji looked down, keeping the back of his head cradled by the sofa. He watched you laughing and Satoru’s blue eyes absolutely beaming at you, watching your every expression as you applied the mask evenly on his face. Even with that disgusting looking shitty green mask on your face, hair tied up into a messy bun, some comfy clothes on —matching coloured baggy lounge trousers with a tight little crop top. You still looked so pretty, you held an air of youth and something refreshing about you, yet you carried yourself like a grown ass woman.

He was older than you by 7 years, you were the same age as Satoru at 30 but you made him feel young again. You gave him that stupid rush he’d missed out on as a teen.

His eyes scanned over your body as you sat crossed legged in front of the other man and even with you hardly at your best right now, even with that ugly mask on your face he’d still absolutely fuck you utterly stupid like this.

There was something about the comfort, the familiarity -the trust and calmness here. That was the point you’d both reached with each other, it brought back fondness from his deceased wife and it made him wonder if he got a second chance at this with you.

Watching you like this, the stupidest, simplest of things stirred something ridiculous in his chest that shot straight to his lower stomach, rushing blood to his cock and he felt it twitch in his baggy sweats.

Toji scowled again before glaring back at the ceiling. God you pissed him off. He didn’t want to feel it. He zoned out from you and Satoru, deciding to block out whatever was around him to concentrate on beating down this horridly pleasant feeling in his chest.

He didn’t hear the whispering.

“Does he know you put a pink mask on him?”

“Nah, I took a photo as well when he wasn’t looking.”

“Even with this hair tied up?”

“Yup, his lil top knot n’all.”

“Heheh. Smart move, you gonna bribe him with it?”

“Absolutely,”

“You’re the girl of my dreams,” Gojo sighed dreamily and you snorted a laugh at him, prodding the end of the applicator against his forehead.

“You’ll be saying that to someone else in a few months with your short attention span.”

“Nuh-uh! Told ya, I’m serious about this.”

You rolled your eyes and put the lid back on your face mask pot, going to stand he stopped you half way, his fingers wrapping around your wrist stopping you from fully standing.

“Hey-“ you hummed in response and looked down to Satoru, the amusement dropped from his face, that usual playful tone replaced with a rare softness. “-m’serious, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

You seen his jaw clench and his blue eyes glanced over you to Toji, who remained glaring at the ceiling tuning out from your conversation, before shifting off else were awkwardly looking at something across the room.

“Nothin’ don’t worry.”

You had been roped into baking for Satoru because of his endless consumption for sweet things and today you’d agreed to make brownies.

Satoru sat on the island, chin resting into his hands whilst his elbows rested on it. Leaning forward in the high bar stool watching you work with some doe assed expression.

“You gonna put that chocolate stuff in again?”

“The Nutella?”

“Yeah! That stuff,”

“You’re gonna be fat.”

“Nah, besides I know a good way to burn it off,” he winked at you whilst giving a small smirk.

“Y’ever stop thinking with your dick?”

Toji strode by, chiming in his input after returning from the gym and opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

You could see he was still sweaty, his biceps looked fucking huge as he still carried his pump from the gym. The veins popping up his arms was enough to make you slow the stirring the spoon in the bowl until you stopped completely.

He was a tall glass of water and you were drinking him.

Well, clearly it was arms day at the gym. You gawked at the man who stood in all his glory, fuck was he always this huge? Had he gotten bigger? That wasn’t just the pump was it? Those tiddies of his… ugh. He’d let you motor boat him, right?

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

Your jaw closed so fast they heard your teeth clack together and you returned to stirring the spoon in the mix of brownies furiously.

“Don’t be jealous cause I can fill her more than you now old man, shootin’ blanks now aren’t you?”

You snorted a laugh and turned back around to the boys,

“More like baby powder,” you chimed in.

Satoru snickered a laugh behind you, Toji’s eyes darkened as they looked down at you whilst drinking, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the water.

“Fuck, fuck y/n, I’m gonna cum,” you mimicked him, probably sounding more desperate than he actually came off.

The golden part though, was you lifting your hand and you blew into it, flour clouding across the kitchen and hitting Toji’s chest. Little lumps falling down his body gathering at the band of his joggers.

Satoru was howling behind you his hands slapped down on the islands marble countertop, Toji looking less than amused, despite the glint in his eye giving away that it was funny his ego was simply not letting you get away with it.

The bottle hit the counter and he strode forwards. The amusement dropped from your face and jaw fell slack, Gojo watched with glinting eyes as he drank in the scene unfolding before him.

Uh oh, you were in trouble~!

Toji swiped the bowl from your hands, throwing it to the countertop behind you as he towered before you, one hand grabbing your neck and forcing you up into your tip toes.

“Oh? That funny shit left you pretty fast princess.”

He felt you gulp under his palm, the hand squeezed your neck with the pressure you liked, he felt the vibration of the moan that crawled up your throat. His green eyes glanced down to watch your body, your hands gripping the counter behind you and your thighs rubbed together.

“Tch, look at you-“ he kicked at your feet to separate them, pressing his huge thigh against your pussy and angled it up, he felt you buckle and it let him knew he pressed against your clit just right “-least you know to submit,” he husked out, lowering his mouth to brush against your lips before pulling away.

His hand around your throat left to gather your hair painfully, you winced as he gripped it in his large hand, pushing you down to your knees. His other hand pulling down his joggers enough to release his semi hard dick.

Even soft this guy was huge, thick and long, it silently stood at least 9 inches at least. He was physically daunting in every aspect, Toji was older and his physical form dominated the two of you overall. Everything about him screamed pure man.

Satoru wasn’t far behind at all, a god in his own league and he only bulked out more as he got older. But Toji had something Satoru didn’t have -that rough and ready thing that made you fucking melt. Gojo made you want to challenge him, even though you’d never win but Toji purely made you want to submit.

Toji was filth, mean, cold and reserved. He’d spit in your mouth, he’d eat you out after cumming in you, he’d verbally abuse you in only a way he could.

Gojo taunted and teased, his method was far from clean, but he took a more playful approach. Toji just took.

“Get it hard then-“ Toji pushed your face forwards towards his cock and you seen it flex giving away his excitement, “-I’m gonna paint that pretty face of yours with cum, see if your crap jokes are funny then.”

Your tongue pressed against the tip before licking a line up to the hilt, feeling it hardening under you. Toji looked over his shoulder to Gojo who had remained in his seat, blue eyes watching everything with his mouth formed into a straight line. Amusement had also left him it seems, favouring watching the scene unfold.

“Y’watching kid?” The smirk that spread over Toji’s mouth was nasty, “-maybe I’ll put a kid in her, really take her as mine.”

Toji’s thumb ran over your cheek as he groaned out at the feeling of your warm mouth taking in his head, tongue swirling around it.

“Have you look at her everyday knowing she’s got my kid in her -fuck- tits all swollen and stomach all round-“ his head tilted back as you took him down your throat, his dick now solid as he felt you gag around him “-it’ll drive your cocky ass mad.”

Gojo’s smirk twitched on his lips, refusing to show Toji’s taunting was actually striking a cord in the blue eyes. Instead he opted to tilting his head to lock eyes with you -doe eyed, all glassy looking pretty at him and a mouth stuffed full of thick cock, drool already spilling down your chin.

Satoru almost groaned at the sight of you like that, feeling his own dick hardening as Toji started to rock his hips to gain more friction down your throat, that would swell up as he pushed his cock further down it before retracting.

“Heh, you really hit a nerve with scarface~!”

Being left alone with you seemed like a rarity these days, even though that wasn’t the case it felt more valuable when he was alone with you.

You were laying on Toji, his thick legs either side of you both flat on the sofa. You were currently asleep on his chest, arms lazily wrapped around his, as you call it, slutty waist.

His arms were folded behind his head, the light from the massive tv danced in patterns a crossed the dark room as the film ran.

He knew you wouldn’t stay awake for it, now he was stuck like this on the sofa fighting his own sleep.

Your face nuzzled into his chest, a satisfying hum leaving you with a dreamy smile.

“Such good tiddies,” you slurred in your sleep, shuffling your body a bit against his.

He snorted a laugh, eyes returning back to watch you nuzzle your face between his pecs.

A smirk appeared on his lips, green eyes scanning over that pretty face looking so content buried in his.. tiddies.

“You’re an idiot,” he mumbled, lifting a hand to brush over your cheek, pushing the fallen strands of hair back.

“Insulting me even when I sleep?” You mumbled, pulling your body into a stretch before settling back on him.

Toji grunted and used the opportunity to shift himself under you.

You lifted your head and rested your chin on his chest, opening one eye to look at him sleepily.

“S’the time?”

“Midnight,”

You gasped dramatically and rose up,

“Old man! You shouldn’t be up so late, your poor back tomorrow, I’ll be buying you a summer frame.”

“If your fat ass wasn’t sleeping on me-“

“-I’m getting heavy for you? Truly, age is weakening you.”

Toji deadpanned at you before grabbing the back of your head and planting your face against his chest, smothering you. He felt you laughing, muffled by his muscle he smirked, keeping your face from lifting to see it.

You managed to twist your head to the side and dramatically inhaled.

“Death by tiddies won’t look glamorous on my death certificate.”

“Stop being so dramatic, you’re exhausting.” He released your head and let you lift yourself again a pouted now visible in your face and you moved to straddle him. He was shirtless under you because you were wearing his massive black t-shirt, some panties underneath and he wore his usual grey lounge joggers.

Your hands planted on his stomach, the muscle tensing under you and your fingers dented in to the six pack, gently moving them across the deep lines.

He rose an eyebrow as you wiggled your hips against his, he knew what you were looking for and it only made him smirk at you.

“Gotta work harder than that, princess.”

“Oh?”

Your hands gripped the bottom of the shirt, pulling it over your head, tits bouncing from the movement.

His hands folded behind his head and he shrugged.

“Meh,”

You pouted, frowning at him childishly, he could see the cogs turning in your head but he wasn’t expecting you to reach down, sliding your fingers down that smooth stomach before disappearing into your pathetic excuse of panties. Lacey and perfectly see through.

He watched your index finger press into your folds and run to your hole, gathering slick before moving back to your clit and rolling a circle over it. Hips twitching, an airy moan leaving you and he watched the pink dust over your cheeks, eyes half hooded as you dropped your gaze to his chest.

Strands of hair fell from your shoulders, framing your face as he watched your body reacting to your finger working against your clit. Your breathing picked up, your hips began moving in time with your finger.

Toji’s hands flexed behind his head, jaw tensing as he fought himself to reach out for you. Your other hand tugged at his sweats and he lifted his hips, it was a skill in itself on how you managed to shimmy them down just enough to release his dick with one hand whilst straddling him.

That finger on your clit never stopping as he watched it between your folds.

Your next move however did draw a grunt from him, pushing your panties aside you pressed your wet slit to his hardening length and dragged yourself along it. The airy, whiny moan that left you made his cock flex against your pussy.

“You dreamin’ about dick or somethin’? She’s fucking drooling, fuck.”

Green eyes fixed to watching the length of his dick gliding between your folds, quickly drenching it in slick he could see it glinting from the light of the tv.

Dick flexing again under you, completely acting on its own as you rolled yourself fucking stunningly against his cock, sandwiched between your cunt and his stomach.

Your soft pants in the room, the tv dulling out as he focused on you.

He snorted a laugh when you reached down, lifting yourself up to press the head of his cock against that tight hole.

“You ain’t gonna manage that sweetheart.”

Your hand braced against his stomach and despite his taunt you lowered yourself, his thick head pushing through that tight ring and he felt it actually fucking pop as it pushed through.

He exhaled heavily, hands balling into fists behind his head and he glared at you, your cocky stubbornness was always fun to watch but it always bugged him how you thought you’d manage without him.

Toji was a dom through and through, he’d let you have fun for his own amusement until he had enough.

“Not gonna beg for my help huh?”

“Fuck you, Toji.”

“Feel free, I hope you can fuck that dick,”

He watched you struggle, you sank down slowly and you made it half way before you huffed. Hand against his stomach curling into a fist.

“Fuck, you’re so thick.”

Surprise was shown from both you and Toji as a hand wrapped around your neck from behind, the other gripping your hair and pulling your head back. Lips crashing into yours in an upside down kiss.

Gojo hummed into the kiss, greedily shoving his tongue into your mouth and squeezing your throat lightly.

“You look like you need some help,” his lips moved against yours, shifting his leg he bent it and pushed between Toji’s and the back of the sofa to give himself even balance and position to be directly behind you, his other foot braced on the floor. Satoru’s hands slid down your body, one moved to the front to press against your clit, causing you to moan against his mouth. The other gripped your hip and started to push you down, finger on your clit rolling to distract you.

Blue eyes stared at green, Toji’s mouth formed into a sneer, eyes hardening on at Gojo interfering with his little lesson.

But fuck wasn’t it hot watching Satoru push you down to take him, feeling your pussy stretch to his girthy dick. Gojo’s mouth working against yours in a wet, messy kiss, your hands moving to grip his hair behind you and hold onto him.

The distraction was working, Toji felt you loosen up to swallow his cock to the hilt and he groaned when your warm walls hugged him. He could feel your slick running down his balls and ass, he could see Satoru’s finger running fast but light circles on your clit.

“You gonna ride him? You want my help right?” You nodded dumbly against his mouth, he chuckled against yours.

“You’re such a good girl,” his other hand left your clit so both were resting on your hips, Satoru guided you up Toji’s cock before slamming you back down. Both men heard the breath hitch in your throat, his previous gentle, caring actions and words led you into a false sense of security.

“C’mon then, ride him don’t let us down now,”

The lack of attention to your clit was short lived, Toji finally moved an arm so his thumb could press against the hardened bundle of nerves. He watched your body jolt, your hips rolling and the dips from Satoru’s fingers as he gripped your hips tighter.

“Suggest you hold onto something,” Your head finally tilted back to Toji, his deep voice filtering through but it’s his words that catch your attention.

The pink now intense across your cheeks and nose, eyes all glassy and looking at him like he was the centre of your universe.

Satoru pushed you forward so he could look down with a perfect view of Toji stretching and filling your pussy.

Your hands gripped Toji’s huge biceps, tensed under you as his hands now both gripped your thighs to hold you still.

Green eyes looked over your shoulder to meet Satoru’s.

“Hold her,”

“What?” You questioned, the trace of worry in your eyes at you looked at Toji like a doe in the headlights.

Satoru squeezed your hips, green eyes met yours and Toji smirked at you.

He withdrew before slamming back into you, the wet slap echoed around the room, his warning thrust made your breath hitch before he started to fucking rut into you.

Your nails dug into his muscle, Satoru’s grip stopping you from moving in any way and Toji’s hands on your thighs restricting you further.

“Wanna get fucked dumb huh?”

You nodded dumbly, Toji giving a hard, sharp thrust.

“Use your words,”

“Y-Yeah, fucked dumb-“ you slurred, voice jolting with each thrust and his dick kissing your cervix. You felt too full, Satoru keeping your hips pinned, Toji holding your legs left no room for him to fully slide from you. The constant short, hard fast thrusts of his dick punching into you, keeping you full quickly stirred the heat pooling in your stomach. He was pounding your g spot, hitting it within seconds of filling you.

Toji could feel you clenching around him, his breathing becoming laboured.

“Gonna cum already? Can feel that pussy suckin’ me in,”

“Hell, you’re taking his dick so well.” Satoru chimed in, confirming his words as blue eyes literally watched your pussy sucking Toji’s dick back in. Hearing that wet squelch of your cunt, the slapping of skin as Toji fucked you until you went crossed eyed, slurring words they could barely understand.

“Keep slurring n talkin’ all dumb like that princess, fuck this cunts so fucking good.” Toji growled out, he sounded feral, slamming harder into you and he watched as he took you to seen stars.

“That’s it, fuckin’ let go, give it up.”

“T-T I’m gonna -you’re gonna make me-“

The noise that left you as you came made Satoru groan behind you, you sunk forward into Toji, burying your face into his neck. In return he turned his head, one hand rising to run through your hair and grip it, twisting your head to press his lips to yours, mashing them together messily and desperately as he groaned into your mouth swallowing your noises.

Satoru pouted behind you, briefly taking his eyes from your cum forming around Toji’s cock as he used it to fuck you.

Toji was mumbling against your lips, something Satoru couldn’t hear from his place above the the loud skin slapping and cum drooling cunt being fucked just under him.

His green eyes focused on you your forehead against his, his hand in your hair keeping you close and in place, talking you through something and Satoru watched as you melted for him.

“Breath,”

“I can’t- it’s too much, you’re-“

“You can, you’re fuckin’ gonna take it. You wanted this so finish what you started so stop whinin’”

“Toji-“

“Breath. Gotta let me cum princess, this pretty pussy too fucking good to stop, you gonna help me cum yeah? Fill you up?”

You nodded dumbly.

His eyes scanned your face, Satoru’s hands left you and Toji moved in quickly, his arms hooking under yours, crossing over your shoulders, on hand remained in your hair then other cradled the back of your neck. Your hands ran through his hair. His feet planted against the sofa, keeping your forehead against his he locked eyes with you as he started to fuck upwards.

Satoru pulled at his boxers, releasing his cock as it slapped loudly against his stomach. A hand reaching out to collect the slick and cum from your inner thigh using it to rub his head, a hiss leaving him as he mixed his pre with it before fisting himself, blue eyes focused on your pussy being stretched and fucked before him.

He did notice the position Toji had put you in, ignoring the jealousy of how fucking intimate it looked.

You didn’t fuck just anyone like that. It was close, messy and focused. Fushiguro was watching you like you were feeding his soul, those green eyes glassy with something he’d never really seen in Toji. That usual hardness broke, despite his brutal fucking and harsh words it broke under that stupid fucking look in his eyes.

The thought hit Gojo at the wrong time.

This really was more than sex between you both? Why did he suddenly feel so out of place, like he shouldn’t have stepped into something like this?

“I’m cummin’ Toji -again- fuck that’s it, fuck-yeah, there! There!”

His huge arms tightened around you, biceps bulging as they hugged you so tight like he was trying to merge your souls together. His hand cradling the back of your neck tightened as he moaned out to you as you cum around his cock for a second time —this time though you brought him with you.

“Shit- m’cummin’-“

His hips pinned up to yours, he lifted from the sofa as his toes curling against it, his stomach spasmed as he coated your insides. His hips fell back against the sofa, a heavy exhale leaving him as you panted above him, light tremors starting through your body.

“Oi,” a cooler hand skimmed over your ass, up your spine and grabbing your hair to pull you back from Toji, Satoru met his eyes “-suggest you pull out, else she’s getting double stuffed.”

Satoru’s spare hand gripped your hip and encouraged you to lift from Toji, his cock slipping out with a wet, cum soaked slap to his stomach.

“Shit, what a sloppy girl you are~”

Gojo eyed your dripping, swollen hole clenching around nothing, quickly guiding the head of his dick to your entrance to stop anything coming out.

“I’ll just use his cum to fuck you huh? Thanks for warming her up-“ Gojo taunted, that cocky grin on his face as he slapped his hand across your ass watching it jiggle.

Toji seen you wince despite the moany breath that left you as Satoru bullied his cock to the hilt without any adjustment, filling you again. Your hands curled against Toji’s chest and he felt you tremble above him.

“Yeah use it-“ Toji folded his hands behind his head again, sitting back to watch. Green eyes drinking you in as you jolted forward with every wet slap and thrust, tits bouncing against his as Satoru started his round of fucking you, “-not like y’have a choice, you’ll never know her pussy without it, Gojo.”

Satoru Gojo being quiet was unheard of, if anything the man only got more hyper and put his deflection tactics up to god tier when he had something troubling him.

It was fast approaching February and a specific date in particular was causing the eccentric blue eyes some dread.

Suguru’s Birthday.

It was 1am to be exact and you’d rolled over to find the bed belonging to Satoru empty. Toji was away on a job for the next few weeks and that was your allowance to stay in Saturo’s domain.

Toji was first after all, he made that point almost weekly with some kind of remark or holding some kind of action to solidify it.

Such a weird dynamic.

You sighed as you lay flat on the large mattress looking up to the ceiling with a frown listening in the silence to see if you could guess what he was doing.

“I swear to god if he’s sleep walking again,” you mumbled, flinging the thick, warm sheets off you dramatically you swung your feet from the bed and set on mission to find the man.

Grabbing his white shirt thrown over a chair in his room you slipped it on.

Bare feet pattered through the house and you actually felt annoyed by the fact your feet were getting cold —it was the middle of winter after all.

With how silent the house was you thought Gojo had left the penthouse but a sad sigh left you when you seen a low, dull light glowing under the door to the room Suguru once occupied.

“Oh, Toru.” You whispered sadly in the empty hallway.

Your hand hovered over the door, chewing the inside of your cheek, with an inner battle as to whether you should get involved. Gojo shut down and away, he was terrible with processing emotions.

Where Toji was more than comfortable with his, being the black and white guy he was, he was surprisingly easier to deal with in that regard —you knew where you stood with him even if he wasn’t verbal with affection. If he wanted something he had it, if he didn’t he didn’t have it around him. The difficulty with Toji wasn’t his lack of ability to process, Toji was a difficult character in the ways Gojo was easy. Gojo had more morals, he wasn’t as selfish, he didn’t spit venom. Socially Toji was horrendous as well, he was rough around the edges. He was cold and distant. Gojo was more polished, a social butterfly with the charm of a prince.

If this were Toji you’d leave him alone until he came to you.

Emotions and Gojo though? Different kettle of fish.

Entirely.

He needed a hug but he didn’t want anyone close enough to allow himself to accept it.

His facade and deflection was humour, a goofball —being the kid he never could be growing up. But he dwelled in a domain of loneliness that was cured by Suguru and him alone. You always thought Gojo handled his death a little too well, avoiding the grief process.

The blue eyes knew what he wanted deep down but he was scared of having it —of losing it, again.

Plus his enormous god complex only aided his fussiness on things.

You were surprised he lasted the last 6 months in this dynamic, you were convinced he’d get bored and go back to multiple girls on the go to aid his insecurities.

But he hadn’t.

So you needed to help him.

The door opened quietly and Gojo was sat on the end of Suguru’s bed, his elbows resting on his knees, legs man spread as usual. Hands hanging loosely down and his head bowed, hair covering his eyes but through the strands you could see his eyes fixed on the floor.

He looked numb.

“Hey, Sato.”

He didn’t move when your hand ran across his bare back, “-just gonna sit next to you, s’alright yeah?”

He gave some short hum as a response but stayed fixed on his position. You sat behind him, legs sitting either side of him and wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against his huge back. It looked comical, spooning a 190cm man who was built like a god, your smaller frame behind him.

He didn’t move, even when you gave him a reassuring squeeze with your arms.

“So, I was watching this video today on these kikufuku’s with cream and edamame, they’re your favourite right? Looks easy enough to make.”

You pressed a few kisses to his back, continuing to blabber to him quietly, filling the silence you knew he was wallowing in, in this room once occupied by his best friend.

“Also, I seen this really awesome photo of that bamboo forest in Kyoto, there’s loads of snow there at the moment it looked so pretty. I haven’t been there since I was a kid! Never seen it covered in snow though, ah, I miss Kyoto it’s so pretty there.”

You shifted your legs, placing them over his thighs and he reacted, his hands moved to grip your feet and rub his thumbs over the soles in a lazy attempt of a massage.

“I ordered you a shirt too, it’s really funny. It’s got metalgreymon on it saying digimon is better than Pokémon.”

A smile twitched at his lips.

“Yeah, it is.”

“I liked that horse one, not that weird ugly ass one. The golden one.”

“Pegasusmon-“

“Yeahyeah! That one,”

Gojo chuckled at your excitement, his hands giving a firmer grip on your feet as he started to come around, crawling his way out of that numb void with a rope you’d thrown down to him.

“You’re not alone anymore, Toru, not if you don’t wanna be anyway.” You mumbled, pressing your forehead against his back.

Gojo looked over his shoulder at you, before turning in your embrace.

“Is that right?”

You gave him a goofy smile and nodded.

“Yup! But you gotta work on it as well, you gotta meet half way.”

He hummed again, eyes drifting to look at his shirt draped over you, one shoulder hanging off and the buttons undone enough to show cleavage. Nipples perking through the material, small goosebumps on your skin. Your long, smooth legs either side of him and he knew you had nothing on underneath.

His eyes drifted to your neckline, following up to your plump, pink lips.

He leaned forward causing you to lean back onto your elbows, his hand skimming up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he placed it against your hip.

He knew it was over for him the minute he finally met your eyes, those beautiful fucking eyes looking at him all glassy, yet filled with something that made his heart warm.

And for once he didn’t wanna run.

“I’m here, Satoru,”

His mouth pressed against yours the moment the words left you, the kiss was hot, messy and desperate. He moaned into you as his tongue filled your mouth, his spare hand moving to pull down his joggers clumsily, freeing his hard cock as it slapped against his stomach.

He felt needy, desperate to be in you. He pressed you into the mattress, both moaning with breathy pants as he pulled your hips towards him, dragging you down the bed. Your legs wrapping around his waist and arms around his neck, burying a hand into his hair and tugging at it.

He rolled his hips forward, running the length of his dick between your folds.

“You’re still wet from earlier huh?”

You nodded against his mouth, not letting him pull away when he went to speak. He chuckled against you, smirking against your mouth.

“Says you, look how fast you got hard.”

Satoru shrugged, his large hands holding the globes of your ass, pulling his hips back he angled the head of his dick at your entrance, pushing forward and moaning into your mouth as he entered you, feeling you stretching around his cock swallowing him to the hilt.

“Fuck, m’never gonna get over how good that feels sliding in first time.”

Your hips rolled up into his and he set a feral pace, he was sloppy, stuttering and kissed you just the same. His hands gripping and smoothing over your skin like he was trying to feel everything.

“You feel s’good Toru-hah- god you’re fucking me so well.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me fuck you like this forever? You know I can’t be without this pussy now right? She’s so sloppy for me, she’s drooling everywhere for my dick.”

You moaned and nodded desperately against him, your heart starting to race as you felt that heat pooling in your stomach, he was so close he was rubbing your clit at the same time. His hips rolling into you as he fucked his dick against your warm walls.

Slurring affection for him, your body rolling to meet his as he fucked you with an intimacy you’d never seen in him.

“You can’t leave me-“ your blurred vision started to focus, hos words bringing clarity. He face burying into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist making you arch your back, shift your hips down at an angle so he could fuck up into you hitting that spot he was looking for.

“—you can’t leave me.” He repeated it again, slurring into your neck as his pace turned sloppy.

It was too much for him, he felt like he was going to burst, he’d never felt love but he was pretty sure this was fucking it. This unbearable warmth that spread through his chest made the feeling rushing through his dick more intense. He felt so close to cumming as well, struggling to hold on and not fill you up. He could smell you mixed in with Geto, whose scent still filled the room faintly.

But it was enough.

“M’gonna cum,” he slurred, his thrusts becoming frantic but uncoordinated as he bullied his dick into your pussy, clenching around him,

“Yeah? Gonna be a good boy for me Toru?”

“Y-Yeah m’a good boy,” he replied dumbly, chasing that high he was about to throw himself over for you —because of you.

“M’cummin’ fuck- fuck, fuck fuckkk.” He lifted his head and smashed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss, he exhaled heavily, a whiny moan crawled at the back of his throat. Hips pinning to yours he spasmed against you as he blew his load into you until he felt it dripping past the plug of his dick.

He was breathless when he pulled from you, holding himself up now by his elbows either side of your head. His arms shaking lightly as he collected himself, his dick softening but warming in your cum filled pussy.

“Y’know-“ his voice was a little shaky and he refused to look at you, instead he was looking down at the small gap between you now, your stomach heaving and his cock still buried in you. “-I’ll settle for this, if it means I get you. But I wish it was with Suguru, cause I know he’d have taken care of you better than Fushiguro or me.”

“Gojo-“

He shook his head, you could see his jaw clenching but your eyes widened when you see the drops fall onto your stomach.

“I don’t deserve you, s’fact. But I’ll try if you don’t leave me.”

Your hands cupped his face, thumbs wiping under his eyes gently, pushing away whatever tears fell from those beautiful blue eyes.

“Can you look at me?”

You didn’t force his head up, but gave him the choice and he did, your breath hitched in your throat.

He never looked so fucking handsome. His hair was a bit messy, his eyes glistening with tears that only made them look more beautiful. His huge built towering over you as he left his cock buried in you.

Vulnerable.

This was Satoru Gojo.

And you weren’t sure if you’d finally just fallen in love with him at that exact moment.

“You deserve love, just as much as anyone else.”

Gojo slid down your body and down the bed, hands pressing to the backs of your thighs he pushed your knees up to your chest. He didn’t waste a beat, burying his head between your legs, sucking on your clit and rolling his tongue in a circle around it.

“Fuck- Satoru- holy shi-“ you hissed, hands flying into his hair and thighs trying to tighten around his head.

He could feel his cum down his own chin as it leaked from you, your hips rolled and he leaned onto you more to pin you.

He was ruthless on your clit, slurring against your pussy as he spoke.

“Gotta have you cummin’ said I gotta meet ya half way right? Fuck- tastes like us. This why Toji eat you after after he’s cum in you huh?”

Gojo > I’m taking her to Kyoto, she mentioned wanting to see the bamboo forest. So if you’re back and she’s not there, don’t worry your fat head ‘bout it . She’s only being whisked away for a romantic trip by her most handsome boyfriend <;3

Received 230am

Toji sneered as he read the message that was sent this morning, before moving into the ridiculous amount of messages you’d sent. He swore to god if you were spamming him with fucking sloth photos again, that only you thought were hilarious, he was going to block you.

Brat > Hey, so I might have accidentally knocked your gun off the side whilst house cleaning and it went off. There’s a hole in your cupboard and it went through one of your shirts. Miss your grumpy ass, can’t wait until your back, miss lil T too.

Received 1030am

Brat > well, it’s not lil is it.

Received 1031am

Brat > think I just made that all worse.

Received 1031am

Brat > okay, I lied. Satoru keeps bribing me with stupid shit else he’s gonna tell you. I didn’t knock the gun off, I was pretending to shoot at an enemy, I rolled across your bed, my feet missed the floor and pressed the trigger when I landed. I’m really sorry :( I didn’t know it was loaded. don’t be mad!

Received. 1305pm

Brat > Do you want a pic of my boobies? They’re a good distraction and you’ll magically forget all about it.

Received 1615pm

Brat > actually can I have a tiddies photo? I miss them.

Received. 1630pm

Brat > Satoru is useless at DIY, I bought a new door for your walk in cupboard, he put the handle on the inside and I can’t open it.

Received 1945pm

Toji sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, elbows resting on his knees, sat on the bed of his rented apartment for the mission.

As annoying as your nervous spamming of texts was it was never enough to actually block you, in fact he kinda enjoyed it. After all he might as well use his phone for something other than calls for jobs, and get his moneys worth for buying a more modern phone after you verbally slaughtered him for having a, in your words, a flip phone with buttons that cavemen used and would only be able to send dick pics on in the form of symbols and numbers.

Despite it all, he enjoyed your bullshit you were more tolerable than Gojo in that way, mainly because he could fuck the brat out of you when you went too far.

Not like he’d ever tell your ass that.

You two were fucking chaos.

T > shame he didn’t lock you in it.

Sent 2100pm

Brat > YOU'RE ALIVE! Thank god, I actually called a funeral director to book an arrangement for you tomorrow.

Received 2115pm

T > you mean you’re still gonna bother me when I’m dead?

Sent 2116pm

Brat > Duh, you have no friends who else is gonna arrange it? Megumi is only 18 and he’s got the emotional range of a goldfish thanks to your mean ass. He’d just set you alight in the nearest bonfire.

Received 2117pm

T > why am I with you.

Sent 2118pm

Brat > idk I ask the same thing, then I see that dreamy look when I’m sucking your dick and I have my answer <;3

Received 2119pm

T > that’s my happy face cause you’re not fucking talking. It’s a state of bliss.

Sent 2120pm

He smirked at his phone, watching the little typing bubble appear as you started your reply.

Yeah, you were his little state of bliss alright.

Gojo > enjoy another night alone, I’ll keep her happy and keep her company… with ma duuu’hickkkk. <;3

Sent 2130pm

Satoru could get fucked though, he wasn’t even sure why he tolerated him. Perhaps due to Toji’s line of work he knew you’d be protected by Satoru, after all the guy was far more powerful that him.

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