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#they crossed the line when they took his kids
wystericwoes · 2 days
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Doomed pt. 5
Warnings: Cursing, fighting and descriptions of gore + violence.
(Sorry this took so long)
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Sukuna watched intensely through the window, a fist under his chin and robes loosely adjourned.
He stared As you picked a flower up and took it from the vine, sliding it into your loose hanging sleeve. Looking around making sure no one saw as a child would after stealing candy. 
He wondered what you were going to do with it. Put in your hair? A vase? His mind wondered. Why act as if it’s a deceitful act that one could get in trouble for when you could do whatever you wanted? 
“Lord Sukuna?”
Uraume approached him from behind, head lowered. His gaze was unwavering as he continued to stare at you. 
He grunted in response. 
“The councilmans here to see you.”
“Tell him I'm busy.”
“It's important.”
“He can wait.”
She gulped. Hating that she had to be the news bearer.
“He… demands an audience.”
He tightened his fist. 
“I'm afraid word got out. And now all your allies are beginning to talk. Not attending this meeting would only make things worse.”
“Tch.”
He turned around to face her, her head remained bowed.
“Where is he?”
That night dinner was quieter than usual. 
He didn't eat, you hardly saw him eat anymore. He simply watched atop pillows, one fist under his jaw as you indulged. You were no longer intimidated by him when he was like this, pissed. 
“What happened?”
You asked. 
“Nothing.”
“Don’t do that with me Sukuna.”
You said as you lifted a bite of food to your mouth. 
He scoffed and turned his head away pouting like a kid. 
“Something political?”
He was never able to lie to you. 
"Snotty pissboys who call themselves leaders who I have to upkeep diplomatic relations with."
His jaw ticked and fists tightened, the air growing thicker with tension. You decided not to press any further.
“Are you going to be okay or would like some help?”
He looked back at you, you had slid down your robe revealing your shoulder. 
He grinned. 
“I always want your help.”
Before Ryomen Sukuna was what he is today, he was a man. 
A man who had made a mistake, falling in love. 
He was a few things actually. 
A man, a sorcerer, a killer, and a ruler. 
But you held him back from his true potential. There were certain lines he would not cross as he progressed his reign of terror. 
He maintained an air of ruthlessness and a reputation of brutality. It's how he amassed power, no one threatened to cross his merciless path. Rumors of him killing a handmaid for bringing him his tea late, or killing a high-ranking nobleman with a hairpin because his footman offended him. These tales were what kept him on his throne.
But as long as you lived, he would never be able to cross the threshold of true power. Because you gave him morals, and morals were limitations. 
As of right now he was simply a king among men, a powerful sorcerer. 
He desired to be a god, but that simply wasn't possible.
For what god cares for a human?
That human was what he lived for, and what he worked for. 
Uraume and Sukunas inner circle despised you. They watched as the man who was on the rise to godhood was stumped by a non-sorcerer of no exceptional lineage or wealth. But they knew that you held more power over them than any of them combined- Killing you was not an option. You were untouchable, and an unmovable obstacle.
Even with your kindness you were a hindrance to them. They saw what you truly were. 
An inconvenience, A weakness. 
They had to stand by as he gawked at you and adorned you with jewels and silks, hand fed you grapes like a servant. Like he couldn’t snap your throat in an instant. 
Disgusting. 
And all the sex? fucking annoying. 
He would have a warlord waiting in the conference room as you were shamelessly copulating in the springs. 
People started to talk. About the ruthless leader Ryomen Sukuna and his only concubine. 
The one that he spoiled, the one that he daunted around and let speak freely at his side during important meetings and gatherings. 
Concubine. You could never forget that's what you are to most people, and you didn't. But it doesn't matter, because at the end of the day, you're the one who he’ll kill for. You knew that everyone either hated you or loved you, was either jealous or resentful. 
Now usually, fellow people in power wouldn’t care about any usual whore. But you seemed to linger. Always be by his side and be the only one he had- and while the servants of his residence didn’t dare to say anything in fear of his retaliation, his allies and their servants had no such obligation. And once they left his grand estate, people talked.
You walked with an air of power, after a while you stopped caring about all the talk and rumors- because that's all it was. Talk. At the end of the day, they would treat you kindly with a warm smile as you walked by. 
To a few who liked you, they admired you as the olive branch and as the light in his life. the one who stepped in with a moral objection before he killed or punished someone who likely didn't deserve his wrathful hand.
A sweet love story, and the last shred of his humanity. But to most, a mistake. To his inner Jujutsu circle, a hindrance. 
Some nights you could touch him in all the right ways to get him to open up, you were on top, you left the hickeys. 
Your face was buried in his neck, he never made any noise. Just moved. Maybe a grunt. You felt his hips rut against you as you traced the outline of his hard cock through his thin white robes. 
Times like this at his most vulnerable was when you pried.
“Sukuna?”
He hummed against your head. 
You placed your chin on his chest and looked up at him. 
“Why don’t you marry me?”
His breath hitched slightly. But his face remained unmoving.
“You know I'd say yes.”
You pouted into him 
“You’re cute.” He growled. 
“I'm sexy. Not cute. And would be excellent as a spouse.”
You pressed yourself against him, slouching down as if in defeat.
“You are. We’re already together though, is this not enough?”
You sighed and turned around, facing upwards next to him. 
“I just want it to be official. I'm tired of hiding behind doors. You're the strongest right? So why do you worry?”
He could lie and say politics. But he always found himself physically unable to.
“I've never been married before.”
“Neither have I, that's why we should do it together!” You whined as you nuzzled into his neck and threw an arm across his broad chest. One of his stronger ones wrapping around your back.
He chuckled into you. The truth was, a lot of reasons. He didn't want you to have the pressure that came as the married person to a powerful lord such as Sukuna when you were so young, and he also didn't want people to know about you. If he becomes married you become more of a target. Rather than your existence outside his home being whispers of a side piece, the ring on his finger would be an immediate show of “I have a weakness.”
 You could get kidnapped, enslaved, assaulted, killed- 
His fists tightened. 
But also rather selfishly, he couldn't bare the thought of accepting himself as a romantic. A wedding ceremony and honeymoon is all too intimate for one such as himself, he's supposed to be revered and invoke terror. 
You placed a soft hand across his own, easing the tension. 
“I just want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“That I'm yours? What about you?”
“They already know who I belong to”. You said with a sly smile, moving down your kimono donning several hickeys and bites. 
You moved so you were sitting on his lap, he sat up and looked up at you with half-lidded eyes. 
“I want you to do what it takes to become the strongest so we can get married and you won't worry.”
You placed your hands on his chest and rubbed circles across his toned muscles. 
He wasn't just scared of the enemy though; he was scared of losing himself. If he had no restraints, if he was away from his chain of reason and humanity- he couldn't hide the monster you suppressed. and the thought of him losing himself to madness didn't scare him- rather it stressed him out. The uncertainty of it all, the darkness he had been able to hide behind your shining light.
You laid down on him again and his arms instinctively found solace around you.
“Do you know what it would take for me to do this?” 
“I do.” 
“I’d be gone more. I might change.” 
“Life is short, don’t waste it all on me.” 
“It’s not a waste if it’s with you.”
You hummed in contentment as you nuzzled into his neck and closed your eyes. 
"I know you'll never hurt me."
He exhaled a long sigh unfurrowing his brows. You were his humanity, so as long as he had you, it would be fine. 
Right?
To gain power he needed to fight, which meant longer trips. But with your blessing he persisted, even if time away from you was torture. 
“Protect them with your life or I'll ruin yours.”
Was the threat he gave to everyone as he left you alone. 
He hated it. Absolutely fucking despised it Whether he was gone for two days or two months. 
And he quickly learned how to take that rage and loneliness and warp it into his new growing obsession- power.
A name had begun to spring around Japan, as the man who never lost. 
Rumors sprung of a monster terrorizing the region in which he reigned, and the ones outside of it.
Each time he came back to you he had to remind himself who he was, with your saccharine kisses, delicate touches, and careless whispers. Such a stark contrast to the pure filth and violence he was subjugating himself to. 
But each time he left you, a piece of him stayed behind. 
You never cared for the details of what he was doing, ignorance was bliss after all. 
Until he came home with blood on his hands. 
“Sukuna…”
You had gone in to kiss him, and you brought his hand up to your face. But that was when you noticed it. 
“It’s not mine, don’t worry.” he said reassuringly, as if that was somehow better. 
You stuffed it down. He’s a good man who loves you- he would never hurt you. 
It was like a raging fire inching closer to you, but so long as you couldn't feel it, you could keep looking away.
You were looking around for him, trying to find his company as you carried your feet across the estate. 
“Sukunaa!” You sang. 
He came out from a corridor and closed it behind him. 
“I was just thinking about…!”
Scarlet was scattered across his body as if he had been painted like a fine canvas.
You froze. A surge of fresh anxiety hit your veins as your eyes wandered down to the bottom of the door, what was behind it?
“Y/n”
He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him- his eyes were dead. 
This was not your Sukuna. 
You tried pushing him away, but he didn't let up. Instead his grip tightened. 
“Did you know that your handmaid liked you? They were going to confess to you.”
He whispered. 
“Stop…”
“To think that i’ve let myself fall from such grace that everyone has forgotten who you belong too.”
“Sukuna…”
You were not unfamiliar with bouts of jealousy. Of rough nights of fucking and hands on your neck. But in his eyes, there was always love, always sensual and caring underneath those layers of grit and abrasion. Extensive and precise control over his actions so as to not truly irreparably damage you. An air of caution and attention to detail to see if you were okay.
His grip was bruising, nails piercing the skin as rivulets of blood graced your skin. 
He feverishly kissed you, shoving his tongue past your teeth in an aggressive movement. 
You whimpered into him trying to leave, but each time you resisted he squeezed harder. He clogged your airways with his persistence and left you in shock. Pain began to violently spread where his grip was held.
He eventually pulled away as you stayed breathless and panting. 
“Sukuna you're scaring m-”
“Don’t go in there. I can’t help you if you do.”
He cut you off as he released you and signaled for the nearest servant for them to clean the mess. Then he walked away. 
Your eyes flickered to the cracked door behind him, terror coursing through your veins as you wondered what was inside.
The bruise on your hip blossomed shades of yellow and purple sharing an eerie resemblance to the blue lotuses in the garden.
You sat as hot tears glazed your face as the nurse dabbed your wound clean.
Small crescent-shaped abrasions graced across your hues of painted skin, artistic in a way.
The maid cleaning your wounds said nothing as you cried. too scared of what would happen if she dared utter a word.
She wrapped your wound in a cotton bandage, and instructed you to rest. 
You leaned back admiring the hardwood walls and paintings, tears eventually ceasing as you lay alone, and cried alone.
The next few months it only got worse. He would be gone for even longer periods, and he limited your access to the outside world. At first, you could go with an escort, but now only him. And he was never there.
You started to write letters. To him, while he was gone, but you never gave them to him. Writing helped you clear your head.
But who you were writing to wasn't the man who was alive today, it was the one who you knew before you sent him off to become the strongest. 
Sukuna, 
I hope this letter finds you well. Because I, selfishly, am not. I am scared. I am irrefutably alone. Things are dimming and becoming gray, I find myself terrified in your presence, and terribly lonesome in your absence. I am in purgatory. Unable to move, or breathe, I can't even find the words to…
You sniffled as you dipped the pen back into its ink holder and slid into a cold bed. 
You spent that night sobbing. At first quietly, but then you could no longer hold back the choked sobs that echoed through your shared bedroom. 
You had to make a decision. 
And so, you hid the final letter and packed your things.
And left within the dead of night. 
A monstrous roar echoed through the decorated walls.
He violently worked his way through the entire estate, ripping doors and dropping ceramics. 
“What did I say?!”
His voice almost echoed, filling the halls and invoking terror. 
Anyone unfortunate enough to be met in his path was either yelled at, mauled, or both. 
A trail of corpses and pools of crimson met his feet as he stormed through the halls. 
“I gave everyone ONE job. And none of you know where they went?!”
Uraume ran up behind him and hovered a hand over his shoulder.
“Lord Sukuna! Perhaps this is a good thing.”
He turned around to face her, and with his silence, she continued. 
“Now we can focus on your reign! You can inst-”
She was knocked to the ground. 
“Mind your place.”
She put a hand over her face as blood gushed from her nose, 
“I'll deal with you later.”
His words were toxic, malicious and deep, 
“L-Lord sukuna!”
A lady wearing nurses' robes bowed on the ground. 
“I may have information!" her voice shook.
“Well? Tell me!” He shouted
She got up and shuffled over to your room. Sukuna following close behind. 
She slid the door open and the sight shocked him. 
Your clothes were strewn across the floor, as well as papers, ink, and personal belongings. 
You must've left distressed.
Without hesitation she went over to the corner where your writing station was, and popped open a loose floorboard, revealing dozens of letters. All were addressed to Sukuna. 
She handed them over to him as she bowed her head to the ground. 
He grabbed them and began rampantly flipping through as his face fell. He sat down on the shared bed, and he hung onto every word, every affirmation, and every syllable. 
He brought his head up, a fury in his eyes. 
“Pack my things.” 
The nurse nodded and scurried away. 
He had a death induced grip on the papers, crinkling and tearing under his hold. 
He set off at night, alone. 
“I will find you even if I must sacrifice each living soul and cast myself to hell.” 
He made a vow to himself. 
He stormed through each village and town slaughtering every person he saw after he asked his question. 
No one knew what he was talking about, even after he killed their families. Some people would lie, but he could tell- resulting in their death as well. 
His newfound senses and strength had allowed him to know the general direction in which you went, but not specifically where you were.
He pillaged through Japan on a vicious spree of mass genocide. Bodies strewn out like constellations across what was once green grass. 
Men, women, children, babies. All were just sacks of useless weak flesh that stood in the way. 
He would cross the occasional Jujutsu sorcerer, but he didn’t even care. 
They all bleed the same. 
He had worked his way through the night, until it was sunrise. And he didn’t sleep, he continued his rampage. 
Throughout the next two days, an utter massacre as one of the most tragic events befell Japan. The countryside's peaceful silence was marked with grotesque screams, crop fields and farms now watered by blood. Corpses stacked into mounds of death. 
Until he finally reached his destination. It had been days, but he knew he was there. 
He could smell you. 
A small clearing in the forest, with a small village no larger a population than 40 people. 
He had warped into a beast, not quite physically yet, but the toll of murder to this degree puts a mark on one’s soul. 
A specific hut with smoke arising from it similar to your cooking, the door creaked open. 
You were sipping on tea, and talking with a member of the family that had offered you shelter, tending to the food- when the door creaked open. 
The shaded figure bore dead soulless eyes, blood of varying stages of exposure, sharp teeth, and a cruel face. 
“I found you.” 
Your eyes shot open, and your heart began to beat faster as he approached. 
“Excuse me! Sir? You ca-“ 
The sentence was interrupted and followed by a brief momentary silence, carried out by his body collapsing, missing a head. 
Some of the blood splattered on your cheek. 
“S..sukuna….” 
You squeaked out with bloodshot eyes. 
You backed yourself against the wall as he drew closer. 
“Stop it please…” 
He loomed over you, casting a deep shadow until he got down on his knees to be closer to you. 
“You’ve got blood on your face.” 
He brought a stained thumb to your cheek and wiped the blood from your soft skin. 
“Let’s go home. I’ll discipline you later.” 
He tried pulling you up by your wrist but you resisted. 
“I’m not going!” 
He picked you up with a fluid movement and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked, but it was for nothing. You had no effect on him. 
He started walking out of the house as you saw the remains of the one who once offered you headless at your captors feet. 
Tears began to form in your eyes as you saw the form get smaller and smaller. 
You really did try and resist, you did. You pushed and shoved and clawed, but he ignored you as if you weren’t even there. 
“Why are you doing this...?” 
Your voice was weak.
He stayed quiet. Simply looking forward as he walked. 
“I don’t like who you are anymore... I don’t feel safe.” 
He stopped. 
“Who’s idea was it for me to travel and get stronger?” 
You jumped
“I didn’t know that it meant this!” 
“Oh please. What did you think I was doing? Dancing? How else does one become powerful? You aren’t that stupid are you?” 
He was right. You knew he was a killer, you had just denied it to yourself to live in your happy bubble. Tears continued to stream down your face. 
You eventually fell limp and tired from the energy and exhaust, giving up for now. 
He set you down at a tree as he began collecting firewood.
“Stay.” 
Sukuna stayed close as he gathered sticks and logs nearby. 
You shivered as night fell. Leaning against a lonesome tree and hugging yourself tightly, trying to choke back your sobs. Your situation dawning on you cruelly like a whip.
Hearing the sounds of footsteps approaching you, you turned around to see Sukuna shirtless as he held his robe over you. 
“Take it.” 
With a shaky hand you held onto it, and he helped drape it over you. 
He put the final sticks in the pile, and you watched as he created a fire from his own hand, you were much too tired to even question how he could do that. And lit the log.
He made himself comfortable in the grass as his eyes met yours. You flinched upon the contact. 
“I thought you died.” 
He said in a gravelly voice. One that resonates through your entire body. 
“I- I’m sorry…” 
He tilted his head to the side. 
“You’re not allowed outside again after this understand?” 
You furrowed your brows and frowned, looking away.
You didn’t understand how he was remaining so casual, talking to you as if he didn’t just kidnap you and murder people.
You buried yourself in the familiar scent of his clothes. They were musty, but it was all you had. 
Comforting yourself with him from him. 
“Answer me.” 
“Okay…” 
“Okay what?” 
“I understand.” 
“Now go to sleep.” 
“I can’t when you’re watching me.”
You wiped your eyes and sniffled, trying not to think about the situation. 
“I don’t care.” 
You desperately tried to sleep. To close your eyes and forget the day. But then you would feel the monstrous breathing behind you. 
You swear he's a little taller than the last time you saw him. 
Eventually as the night passed, the crackle of the fire lulled you into something close enough to sleep. When your breaths were slowed, he inched closer to you, laying down behind you. 
The blaze of the dying fire dwindled and failed to distract you from your own thoughts. You slowly turned to face the beast behind you to see him asleep, audibly letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 
The warmth he emitted was solace. And his peaceful face hid the killer within. 
Maybe you could lie to yourself long enough to make this work, maybe you could pretend it was all okay. 
You clenched your eyes and shook the thought away. 
It’ll all be better in the morning. 
His eyelids fluttered open, rays of light peeking behind the blinds to reveal your sleeping form breathing rhythmically in short paces. 
He knew he shouldn’t be indulging in this. 
But something about the attention filled a hole in him he never thought he needed filled.
He was always enough for himself. 
It was only temporary he thought, as he sat up and eased out of bed. 
Walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, as quietly as he could. 
This really wasn’t like him. But he had just gotten so used to your unfamiliarity, to your sporadic actions and intangible remarks. 
Even after over a month of living together, he still hadn’t aired out the mystery of you. He decided for the first time to just let it be for a while, let it sit- because things were too good the way they were right now. 
One of you would start cooking or making tea and coffee, then twenty minutes later like clockwork the other would begrudgingly dredge in the kitchen with tired eyes and messy hair, sitting in a chair and accepting whatever plate of food or beverage was slid their way. 
This morning, he was feeling particularly lazy and decided to order food. Something he knew you would have no objection to, considering the last time he cooked you called it “the nastiest tasting excuse for shit food” you had ever tasted. 
Truth was it wasn’t terrible. And your attempts at cooking weren’t much better. But it felt nice practicing together.
He pulled out his phone and began putting in the food as he plopped himself down on the couch. kicking his feet up on the coffee table. 
He could hear your disinclined footsteps from the other side of the big yet humble house make its way over to you. 
“For someone so rich I really wish you had a guest bedroom. You snore.” 
“That’s a pretty interesting way of thanking me for letting you live here for free.” 
You drank a glass of water and made your way over to the couch, sitting down next to him before abruptly collapsing and falling your head into his lap. 
“I can't live in my apartment remember?” 
“What are you feeling for breakfast, sugary or savory?” 
“Sugary.” 
You rolled over to be facing upwards, staring at the bleak and perfectly eggshell white ceiling. 
“A person after my own heart.” 
He finished sending in the order as he set his phone down and also kicked his head up. 
“Why is your house so boring? It wouldn’t kill you to paint it pink or something.” 
“Pink? Really?” 
“Sorry, blue.” 
You looked over at his upwards facing chin, admiring his features until he looked down at you, causing you to avert your gaze. 
“It’s rude to stare.” 
You simply huffed and sat upright. 
“You’re insufferable.” 
“You love it.” 
“I’m gonna go take a shower.” 
You stood up and scampered away avoiding his remark as he shouted at you. 
“Don’t slip and fall!” 
You really shouldn’t be getting used to it. But this routine was so comfortable to you now. And for both of you, served a purpose outside yourselves. A selfishly selfless act. 
For you, the safety and regiment you so desperately needed to ground yourself after all the change and trauma you had witnessed in the last month. Being with Gojo was a slow addiction. you tell yourself you can quit anytime, but realize too late that you can’t live without it. 
For him, the wild and crazy circumstances of the whole thing made it too delicious to quit. The sheer absurdity of it all for him- you being an exception. It was a stronger but fleeting high. 
You had been making impeccable progress, as far as he was concerned. Which was good, because there was so much banking on your success. So much more than you knew. 
You dreamt about him again. All these memories keep resurfacing that you never had. You suddenly developed an interest in ancient Japan and Jujutsu society, taking in any history about it that you could. 
Physically, you still had a long way to go before you reached your full potential, but you were trying. 
You hadn’t been on a mission in several weeks, learning only the basics such as how to wield a weapon and concentrating cursed energy at will. But seemingly everyday it gets a little easier.
You let the hot water roll over your body, an act almost cleansing in the physical and spiritual sense. The steam awakens your senses, and you rest easy knowing when you get out food will be waiting for you in the kitchen. That all things are as they should be for the time being. 
The weather is slowly getting colder, as fall creeps its way over summer. Leading you to wear warmer clothing, a long sleeve and pants. You step out into the kitchen drying the remnants of water in your hair using your mostly damp towel, the smell of food hitting your nose. 
“This is the real reason why I stick around Satoru.” 
“Really? Nothing else?”
You didn't even entertain him as you ripped open the bags filled with stacks of delectable goodness. 
Adjacent to you he got two plates out and utensils, the both of you began setting your plates. 
“Oh and also, you have a mission tomorrow.”
You halted your movements abruptly, slowly turning your head to his unbothered disposition. 
“And you just thought to tell me?”
Venom laced your words.
“I didn't want you to be mad at me! you get scary.”
You took a deep breath and spoke behind gritted teeth. 
“Okay. Care to tell me more?”  
Aggressively shoving food on your plate, he stepped a couple paces farther from you.
“There's been reports of a higher ranked curse going around, weird stuff keeps happening, people dying, mutilation, blah blah. You’ll be accompanied by a pro this time rather than just babysitting.”
“Alright. And will my life be in danger? Are you hiding the details from me again, so I have no idea what I'm walking into?”
“Nope! Not this time.”
  He walked away with his plate of food and sat on the couch. 
“Are there any other details you'd like to disclose before I find out the truth?”
“Not particularly.”
He said before a big bite.
You very annoyingly sat down as far away from him as possible. 
“I better not find out you're lying to me.”
“Just watch a pro at work, that’s all you gotta do.” 
“Do I at least get a weapon?” 
The first thing you notice about Nanami is his deliberate ability to make any situation feel more or less stressful. 
His face bore little to no reactions, his posture stiff and correct, his voice commanding. 
He made a lasting impression. 
The second thing you noticed was that he was also handsome. Not pretty like Gojo or cute like Yuuji, but handsome. 
You trudged through the tunnel of a dark sewer. You had to remain strong. As difficult as it had been to accept over the last weeks, this was going to be your life now. 
You honestly didn’t know what to expect. 
“You’ve been misinformed I assume.” 
He broke the silence. 
“Probably. I have a terrible teacher.” 
“Sounds in character for him. What all do you know of the situation?” 
“Basically nothing.” 
You felt that feeling again, of being in the dark. Quite literally and metaphorically. 
“Itadori and I have done most of the leg work already, the hunt for this transfigurer and tracking its location.” 
“Transfigurer?” 
“I suppose I should prepare your for what you are about to see. If at all it becomes stressful I understand if you want to leave.” 
He took your affirming nod and silence as a means to continue his explanation. 
“This curse can alter one’s physical shape into anything it desires. It’s a truly grotesque and disgusting power. Which is why I take urgency to exorcise it.” 
“By ones physical shape do you mean…?” 
“Humans.” 
You felt a tightness well in your throat. 
“You’re new to this, and if I’m being frank this assignment was not the best to be one of your first. But I suppose this is a good way to throw you into the field and begin developing your tolerance.” 
Tolerance? You wondered what he meant. 
As honest as he was, you knew he was hiding information from you. 
“Nanami, I have a question.” 
He continued in silence, your sign to continue. 
“Is Satoru hiding something from me?” 
He pushed his glasses up and came to a stop. 
“It’s not my place to say.” 
That made your stomach drop. 
“I will tell you this, no single functional mind could comprehend that man’s intentions.” 
He continued walking. A shared silence as you felt torn between not wanting to pry, and desperately needing to know more. 
“Whenever we find what we’re looking for, I want you to stay a consistent 20 paces behind me at all time. If you get in the way it could compromise your safety as well as mine.” 
You simply nodded. Far too on edge to properly respond. 
You weren’t going to question his authority, especially when his confidence made you feel at ease. Usually being commanded on what to would have made you livid, but now you could do nothing but listen. It was mostly silence. 
You just kept trudging the seemingly endless tunnel on edge until something happened.
“H-e…lp m…e…” 
A distorted and raspy voice was heard beyond in the darkness.
You froze. Immediately following Nanami’s rule and slowly easing yourself several feet behind him. 
And you’re glad you did, when what you saw made you feel dizzy. 
A creature with four legs and deep purple skin, eyes on opposite side of its head an no neck. 
Without any hesitation or time to process, Nanami sliced across its chest and with a single blow, killed it. It’s body falling limp at his feet as he continued walking. 
You attempted to remain calm. Seeing as how he was, you were scared of what he may think if you freaked out, you couldn’t imagine burdening him during a serious moment and messing things up. 
“Those are what I was talking about, transfigured bodies.” 
“That was once a…” 
You walked by it, footing unsteady, giving one last fleeting glance at the cadaver. 
“Now you see why we need to eliminate this curse.” 
Sudden emotion over took you as you continued walking, remembering its eyes. Human eyes. 
You shook your head. Choosing to not care in the moment. 
That cycle repeated. A monster crosses your path, Nanami slashes it, and you continue down the endless paths of dim tunnels. 
You weren’t exactly a master at this or anything relating, but it didn’t take a genius to notice your comrades growing irritation. 
“Are you okay?” You muttered
“I only wish this curse would show itself. Even if these are disfigured and beyond help, killing humans leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” 
“Oh Good Good!” 
A different voice approached from the darkness; a sudden gut-wrenching feeling overcame.
“I was really worried someone strong would show up. But you two should be easy to experiment on!” 
Nanami seemed unbothered. Pushing his glasses upwards. They stood in an uneasy silence for a moment. Just a moment.
And before you knew it a series of blows were exchanged faster than your eyes could keep up with. You didn’t even see who attacked first.
All you could do was try and stay out of his way. 
The curse suddenly slid back several feet. Wide eyed. 
“Was that some kind of cursed technique? I should’ve blocked it.” 
“What do you mean some kind? I don’t appreciate questions that are left to interpretation” 
“Oh good, seems you don’t mind talking!” 
“That depends on who I’m talking to.” 
“Guess I’m special then huh?” 
This curse oozed a certain arrogance which reminded you eerily of Gojo. 
You stopped breathing when he pointed to you.
“And who’s that then?” 
Nanami stepped further in front of you to block his view. You were honestly shocked he could see you; you were so far back in the darkness that you could barely even tell what was going on. 
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“Emotional support? I guess your job does get pretty tricky huh? Humans can’t handle much.” 
“They're my colleague.” 
He tapped his foot on the ground, seemingly thinking something. 
“Hey what do you think came first? The body, or the soul?” 
You both had a confused look. 
“Y’know like chicken and the egg? Is the soul inside the body, or is the body outside the soul?”
“The former.” 
He was tense. You didn’t like the air around you; the whole situation was awkward. You had been looking at curses as non-human things to ease the guilt and trauma, but to know that they could talk and be coherent, sent you someplace dark. 
“Wrong. The soul always exists before the body.” 
Nanami looked like he could care less. 
“It’s the source of my power. I transform the shape of my soul; it’s not healing or shapeshifting like many believe.” 
Out of nowhere a creature summoned at his hand.
“I make humans small and store them, it’s pretty hard Y’know?” 
You watched as Nanami checked his watch and muttered something under his breath.
“An ordinary person dies after being transfigured. I wonder what will happen to you jujutsu sorcerers…” 
So much had happened you struggled to make sense of any of it. You no longer knew how much time had passed. You would have guessed fifteen minutes- but knew it was probably longer. 
They were ruthless. The punches, the kicks, the blocking and dodging. You felt too appalled to do anything and too interested to look away. 
Somehow this felt familiar to you. Watching it all was like replaying a movie you had seen when you were a young child. Details blurred and specifics unknown, but a certain naturalness came with it once you saw it again. 
“I'm now officially working overtime.” 
Nanami eased his tie, and a sudden shift was felt in the air. 
“So, you have a way to get stronger from fighting past a certain time huh? You’re not half bad.” 
He sported a sickening smile through the entire ordeal. One that made your insides curl.
You watched as the ground beneath Nanami shifted beneath him and lifting him up, another deformed body had been conjured and was serving as an impromptu ledge. He crouched and wiped his thumb across a crying face. 
“I’ve mastered transfiguring souls without killing them. Try not to feel too bad.” 
“I don’t let personal feelings affect my work.” 
It all suddenly hit you. He changes the shape of people into grotesque… things. And all the while they stay fully conscious and feeling. 
“You’re such a terrible liar! About this and your ‘colleague’.” 
A strong sense of justice took over you. 
“So, you just transform people into whatever you want? Just because you look like a freak doesn’t mean everyone else does too!” 
A sudden sense of Deja Vu came over you, remembering when your fear left your body in place of anger when you were fighting that special grade curse. You were no longer yourself, just your emotions. 
Nanami looked back at you shocked, and judging by the curses face, he was as well. 
“Well I’ll be damned. The cheer section has some voice. What rank are you? I hardly defected any cursed energy from you before. I thought you weren’t even a sorcerer!” 
“I don’t have a rank.” 
Nanami sighed. Clearly annoyed at the fighting and provoking. 
“You should get one soon so we can have a proper fight. I’m really looking forward to seeing what would happen to that deformed soul of yours once I get a hold of it.” 
You went to open your mouth.
“That’s enough.” 
Nanami butted in before you two could insult each other again. 
“And what about you my blonde-haired friend? What’s your rank.” 
“Grade 1.” 
“So, you’re strong huh? Perfect for experimentation. Both of you make a fine pair. First, I just have to get rid of the bodyguard!” 
Suddenly, the hand of the curse slammed against Nanami's stomach, flat-palmed. They stood still for a brief moment. 
It felt like time stopped. 
Did he kill him? Was something going to happen? What would happen if Nanami died? You can’t fight this guy by yourself! 
Panic started to set in, and you had to fight every natural instinct telling you to run away. 
“Looks like your soul is being subconsciously protected by cursed energy. But that’s no worry, another 2-3 times you’ll no longer be human!” 
As much as you hated this helpless feeling, you were learning a lot. 
Learning how weak and ignorant you were, and how strong you could be. Nanami was inspiring, unlike Gojo who flaunted strength and barely delivered, Nanami showed and didn’t boast. He simply acted, strength just coming to him, and it suited him well. 
“Y’know you’re getting kind of boring.” 
He looked back to you. 
You felt a breeze hit your face, followed by a hand on your shoulder. 
He was behind you. 
“You’re much more interesting.” 
Nanami gritted his teeth and ran back to you quickly, with a face that could only be described as something between concern and fear. He aimed a critical hit, but his blade was met with nothing, causing him to stumble forward but gracefully compose himself.
The curse was far behind him.
Your knees buckled. You didn’t even see him move, he was well over thirty feet away and he suddenly appeared behind you- you felt your throat tighten and your lungs fail to collect air as the shock subsided.
Your heart started racing, your hands clenched, and face flushed. 
“Well I’ll be damned! Nothing happened when I touched you either!” 
Suddenly, Nanami lunged at the curse, swinging his weapon to which the curse dodged. 
He shouted at you. 
“Hey! Are you aware of your unique soul?” 
You figured it was best to not engage at all. Swallowing a nervous lump in your throat. 
“Your fight is with me, leave them alone.” 
“Why bring them along then? It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that their soul is in a different shape, does it?” 
“A different shape?” 
You muttered out. 
“Yeah! I’ve never seen anything like it. You two are sure an unforgettable pair. I really wonder what would happen if my cursed technique worked on you.” 
“Y/n.” 
Nanami's voice cleared the space of your spiraling thoughts. 
“Leave.” 
You hesitated for a second, before turning around and letting your feet carry out as fast as you could, back where you came in from. You heard fighting and struggling behind you as you disappeared into the dark, not daring to turn around. 
When you reached the entrance, you nearly vomited.
You held your stomach and doubled over, supporting yourself on some near railing, the events finally settling in. 
Everything seemed to be delayed in these slowly turning familiar terrifying circumstances. 
You were panting and shaking- trying desperately to compose yourself. 
“Y/n?” 
You slowly turned your head up trying not to hurl as the images and phrases repeated in your head. 
It was Yuuji, accompanied by a black-haired teen you hadn’t seen before. 
“Are you okay?” 
He looked so concerned.  
“Y-yeah. Just…” 
You felt bile build up in your throat, moving a hand over your mouth and the other to hold up your pointer finger in a ‘one second’ motion. 
The boys looked at each other awkwardly. 
“Just... adapting.” 
“I get it. It was hard for me too, in the beginning.” 
A still silence sat for a moment. 
“Wanna come with us? we could sit down somewhere and maybe get you a drink or something?” 
You slowly nodded your head yes. 
The darker-haired boy didn’t seem to talk at all as you and a Yuuji conversed, maybe he was just shy. You didn't care enough at the moment to ask questions though.
The three of you sat on concrete steps overlooking a river, holding sodas. 
“They were people once. And when I finally found that out, I just couldn’t hold back this feeling of dread.” 
“Yeah. I felt the same way.” 
“How do you do it? Keep it together? You both lived normal lives then suddenly had to throw it all away for monsters and magic.” 
“You don’t have a choice. These things, they’re true evil. They’re not people, and they only exist to kill. And I guess, knowing that they exist and that I can do something about it is better than not doing anything at all.” 
You sat on that. This was a chance for you to better the world, to make a change.
“I guess I never thought about it like that.” 
“And Y’know, you don’t get any awards or medals or credit or anything. No ordinary person will ever know what you do for them, but you have a community to share that with. It’s not like Spider-Man where he goes home every day and has to pretend everything is normal. You have friends who are like you!"
“Did you just compare Jujutsu society to Spider-man?” 
“It works doesn’t it!” He flashed you a smile that made you feel better.
It does.
“I just don’t think I’m ready. Ready to fight… monsters or anything.” 
“Not many people are. I guess I’m an exception because I want to help people more than anything. You just got to find that motivation!” 
What motivates you? 
You wanted to help people. But not as passionately as Yuuji did. You weren’t angry enough to take it out on curses like Gojo suggested, and you weren’t calculated like Nanami where you could treat this like a day-to-day job. 
So why even do this? Self-defense? 
Your head perked up. 
“Answers.” 
Yuuji turned his head over at you in confusion. 
“Huh?” 
“I want answers.” Your fist tightened. 
“I have to go, thank you.” 
Yuuji and the other boy stared at you as you walked off. 
You stormed inside the home after unlocking the front door. 
You took off your shoes and walked past Gojo on the couch. You didn’t utter a single word to him. 
“So, how’d it go?” 
“Tell me the truth.” 
“I asked you a question first.” 
He joked, but quickly his smile dropped as he saw the seething expression on your face. 
“I want answers, Satoru. No more half truths or bullshit.”  
With a blank expression he stood up, walking over to you. 
“What do you want to know?” 
23 notes · View notes
Stayed Gone
inspired by this cover of the song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=73x8V1LrEwI&pp=ygUbc3RheWVkIGdvbmUgbHV0ZSBhbmQgbGlsaXRo
imagine if Lilith tried and make a deal with Adam
Lilith: As head of the angelic exterminators I’m prepared to offer a once in a lifetime deal to you and by extension your hell born subjects, and spawn
Adam: What is it?
Lilith: Your an incredibly influential demon, the most influential since you are the queen of this pit. Which would mean that the sinner who stole the winner must’ve thought he could do that do to him thinking he was somehow more powerful than Heaven!
Adam: I didn’t tell him to do anything! It’s not my fault what happened!
Lilith: But it IS your fault, for getting in the way of how things were MEANT to be. However, you have a chance to correct this little mistake of yours. All you have to do is to stop empowering them and we will spare the filth that are born down here and all we kill are the wretched. Sound good?
Adam laughs hard at the angel and wipes a tear from his eye looking at her eyes flashing a bit.
Adam: I'm sorry, but was that your form of a threat?
Lilith: I run the ship now so let me be clear, a demon took an angel that's no joke this situation is severe! You need to bring your subjects down! Get them straight in line, and while you are at it try and weaken them so they will take it as a sign! You must begin now because you're running out of time! So, if you want your family unharmed then make sure all your subjects are unarmed!
Adam's eyes flashed red in warning which caused Lilith to falter for a moment. That allowed Adam to take the lead in the conversation.
Adam: You mean do your bidding? No thanks, I'd rather not, this place called Hell is my domain so don't you dare act up just cause you're divinely ordained! How dare you try and threaten me! Just cause you're too stupid to flee from his royal majesty! I'll keep doing as I please and who are you to disagree? Now move you BITCH you're blocking my way!
Adam pushes her nonetheless gently past her and heads towards the exit of the embassy. But still calls out to Lilith while walking away.
Adam: You mustn't know me very well you're speaking to the QUEEN OF HELL!!! I can bring you down and have you begging on your knees.
Lilith with a scoff crosses her arms.
Lilith: Oh please!
Adam: I couldn't care less about what you lead, my power far out exceeds your authority and that's a guarantee!
Lilith: So, you're just going to let your spawn die huh? Always took you for the cowardice type but never thought I'd see you be a little bitch in per,
Lilith finds herself with her back thrown to the ground with Adam standing on top of her.
Adam: Oh, I'm sorry I couldn't hear you when you choked on your own spit! Let me be clear if you hurt them I'll make you wish you stayed gone, is that clear? I'll make you wish you were still dead for your sins. Oh this will be fun!
Adam's claws and fangs sharpened, his eyes glowing a manic yellow, no gold as he looked down at the angel who understood that the Queen of Hell wasn't kidding in the slightest.
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Text
peter
"Preserved from when we were just kids" "The goddess of timing Once found us beguiling"
The first part, they were 18 and 22 when they first got together and during the beginning of their relationship and "beguiling" means enchanting/charming - and the World was enchanted by them when they were together (aside from the haters) and then even while they were off and on over the years, he was always the one that she said would come in and out of her life and they'd "never be over", all which still fits with that beguiling line.
"I thought it was just goodbye for now"
"You said you were gonna grow up Then you were gonna come find me"
This is NOT giving me Matty vibes at all and I'll die on that hill. Again, 18 and 22 fits here more than 24 and 25. Sure, you're still growing at 24/25 don't get me wrong but, Matty was very much not saying "I'm going to grow up and come find you one day" at 25 years old in the height of his addiction and during his "I can't be with someone bigger than me because I want success on my own". This is giving "I was 18 when we got together and I need to figure my shit out but, one day we'll be together when I do". This also fits her saying he was always in and out of her life. She's been waiting for him to grow up and come find her again.
"But life was always easier on you Than it was on me"
She got way more hate during their relationship than he did, as she mentions in Slut! On top of the fact, he dated/had flings with many women back to back and never got shit for it but, she dates men back to back and gets hated for it. Granted, that could fit just about any male if we're honest but, she specifically wrote Slut! about Harry so.
"When crossing your jet stream We both did the best we could do Underneath the same moon In different galaxies"
This is giving me very much "we were constantly traveling for work and maybe my jet would cross over yours and we'd end up in the same place and try to make it work and then again when we were so far away from each other". It's also interesting that this album has quite a bit of talk about galaxies/aliens/moons and then circus/con men etc. when the last two MVS we got from Harry were "Satellite" and "Daylight" - Satellite which has the imagery of the sky/galaxy and saying he's waiting for her and then we have "Daylight" which is a circus theme MV.
"And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned"
Here she's saying she dated other men during their time apart but, she was always still waiting for him to return to her and tell her he's grown up, figured out what he wanted, and that it's her.I also get the vibe she mentions men specifically because she was talking about him still being a "boy", so she dated men waiting for him - Calvin/Tom because they were her age range and they were "masquerading" as her boyfriend.
"And you said you'd come and get me, but you were twenty-five And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired"
This specific line is what has everyone thinking Matty but, they MET when he was 25. He was not laying all these promises out to her then and that's not what this line is saying to me. It's saying that the muse made all these promises to her BEFORE he turned 25 and then they saw each other again when he was 25 - he told her "I made those as a kid, they've expired now that we're older, they were just fantasies". Harry was 25 when he released Fine Line and when they saw each other at Ed's wedding. My guess is that was the first time they'd seen each other in a while and there was a talk that night and he might've said something along those lines or she took it that way.
All of this to also say the obvious ties of "Peter" and this song bringing the Peter Pan imagery and then "Peter Losing Wendy" reference in "Cardigan" which is obviously about Harry Styles. The fact people want to connect that with Matty now because they think this song is Matty is wild. Matty was not that young when they met, 25 is still a grown ass adult. Technically Harry was 17 when he met Taylor and who knows if they actually dated before he turned 18 or not. But James in Cardigan acts like a 17/18 year old Harry probably would've acted vs a 25 year old man. And even IF Matty and Taylor had a thing back then, it was an incredibly quick fling. Sleeping together and maybe a few dates but, they were definitely never in a relationship. She did not write Cardigan about a short fling.
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months
Text
Prompt 74
When a new black-haired blue-eyed person appeared in the manor, one could easily be forgiven for thinking that Bruce’s adoption problem had struck again. So color many a batkid surprised that no, this kid isn’t a new sibling, no he didn’t get grabbed from the street, and actually he’s here for Alfred. Apparently Alfred never found it important to mentioned that he has a husband- that the kid kind of implies isn’t human what with the casual way he says he himself is half human- and that this kid is apparently their child. For once it’s Bruce’s turn to come home to a surprise sibling. 
Danny on the other hand just learned that his Clockpa has a semi-mortal partner who has offered to take him in, (in another dimension even! And there’s aliens!!) while the ancient takes care of some stuff at home. And yeah it’s in a rich-manor but Sam has proved that not all rich people are evil, and based off of Mr Pennyworth’s stories the Waynes weren’t bad either. Though based off of the others’ reactions perhaps he should wait to mention that there wasn’t one new family member but three…
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
Text
Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]
Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.
“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.
“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.
“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”
“Tim.”
With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.
“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.
“Huh? Class over?”
“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”
“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”
Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”
“Kind of?”
“Good enough for me.”
——
Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.
“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”
Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”
“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”
“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”
“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!
They were friends, right?
“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”
“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”
Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.
“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”
“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”
“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.
“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”
Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”
“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”
Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”
“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”
Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.
“He said yes.”
“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”
Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.
——
“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”
Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.
“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.
He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.
“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”
“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”
The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.
“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”
“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”
Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”
Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”
Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”
“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.
“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.
Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.
Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.
——
“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”
Bruce grunted.
“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.
Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.
“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”
“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”
“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.
Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.
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horangare · 7 months
Text
lucky girl
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pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader
content : smut (mdni), angst, fluff, fake dating, unrequited (but not rlly) love, friends to strangers to lovers
in which : jeonghan has no interest in a relationship, however it seems that everyone else is sticking their nose into his nonexistent love life. you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but that was ages ago. he shouldn’t remember someone like you, but he does. and he wants you to be his girlfriend (just for a little while though, right?)
warnings : public sex TWICE (this mf fucks u everywhere but a BED), couch sex (see what i mean???), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe i’m begging), idiots in love vibes like so strongly you two are dorks fr, dirty talk, y’all want each other so bad, praise, cockiness, like one innuendo, a bunch of other idols make features in this (twice, txt, le sserafim, and svt ofc), mentions of rehab, crying, “arguing”, jealousy, pining and yearning and things of that nature
wc : 14.9K words
note : this took me so much longer than i thought it would but it’s finally here 😭😭 written from this request
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Junior year of highschool is when you first fell in love with Yoon Jeonghan.
You were the new girl. The transfer student. The awkward, hormonal, sixteen year old girl who felt oh so small in such a big school. The nobody.
Pretending like the lingering stares, the pointing, the whispering—all of it—was just a figment of your imagination was easy. You had been used to tuning things out. At acting like it didn’t phase you.
Private school was different than public school. Too different. The only reason you were in this place is because you were sent to live with your aunt because of the fact that your mother was in rehab and your dad wasn’t in the picture. Many of the public schools in the area weren’t the best, so she pulled some extra money from her savings to send you one of the nicer, private schools.
You were grateful, for her concern regarding where you went to school, but the huge contrast from transitioning to this new place was anything but easy. You may have looked just like everyone else, but you never felt like them. A bunch of self obsessed, privileged, stuck up rich kids. Yeah, you weren’t that. Not by a long shot. It’s like they could tell you didn’t belong here, but you already knew that.
All of them except for him.
Jeonghan had heard the mumbled talk of your arrival since he arrived on campus. He didn’t get what the big idea was. New kids came all the time, bought their way in with mommy and daddy’s help. Each and every other student here was one in the same. Predictable. Boring.
“Shit, look, there she is,” Joshua whispered amongst the small group of boys, his head jerking in your direction. The rest of them—Minghao, Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Jeonghan—all spared you a single glance or two.
Minghao chuckled dryly. “She’s gonna get eaten alive.”
"She's kinda hot though, don’t you think?" Soonyoung mumbled, trailing his eyes over your body. "That skirt is way too small for her."
“It’s like six in the morning. Can you not be horny right now?” Mingyu sighed, yet Soonyoung’s gaze remained on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. Jeonghan remained silent.
Joshua nudged his friend. “What? You have nothing to say?”
“What is there to say?” Jeonghan asked, swirling around his iced coffee that had been way too expensive to taste so cheap. “She’s a girl and she’s new.” Soonyoung booed him, loudly, attracting the attention of other passing students.
“You’re no fun.” He said and crossed his arms. Jeonghan gave him no response. “Whatever. How long do you think she’ll last?”
“I’ll give her until the end of the day,” Mingyu nodded. The others looked at him in disbelief, which made the boy roll his eyes. “What? I’m an optimist.”
Soonyoung hummed in thought, weighing his available options. “Four hours max.”
Minghao shook his head. “Two and a half.”
“I’m gonna say…One hour.” Joshua added. Then they all turned their heads to Jeonghan. He didn’t respond until the staring became unbearable.
“God, you’re all such pessimists, you know that?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you today.”
“You have faith in her,” Minghao teased, poking the older boy in the side. “You’re so easy to read.”
“Cut that shit out.” Jeonghan hissed, pushing away Minghao’s hand. Minghao, Mingyu, and Joshua giggled. He was so easy to piss off.
“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Soonyoung cracked his knuckles with a confident—bordering on arrogant—smile.
“Seriously, don’t—” Minghao sighed, but the other boy was beyond reason. By the time he even said anything, Soonyoung was literally in your face.
The expression on your face was pensive, relaxed even. Until…
“Hey, new girl.”
You looked up, your eyes looking over him with disinterest. Soonyoung cleared his throat when you didn’t reply, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve the awkward atmosphere.
“I’m Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”
“No.” You deadpanned.
His eyes widened. Were you serious? He could hear the others trying to keep in their laughter behind him.
“Is there something you need?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows. Soonyoung stammered, only managing to speak the words “I…” or “what?” before he sighed and lowered his head.
“Hoshi, are you done making yourself look stupid yet?” Mingyu shouted, stopping between almost every word so he could laugh. By now, there was an even bigger scene being made by Mingyu’s additional comment, much to your embarrassment.
“Excuse me,” you mumbled to him as you scurried off to the bathroom, leaving not only Soonyoung shocked but also the little audience you had gathered shocked as well.
“Wow, what a smooth talker.” Joshua clapped, a wide grin on his face. “She was all over you.”
Minghao giggled. “I recorded the entire thing. Hey, who should I send this to first?”
“Oh fuck off,” Soonyoung hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Nobody needs to see that shit.”
“Right, like half the school hasn’t already.” Jeonghan gestured to the multitude of people still lingering around in the hallways, huddled in groups whispering about the events that had just happened. Glancing at Joshua after you were gone, he smirked.
“So?” Joshua asked. “What’s your judgement?”
Jeonghan sipped the last of his drink, shaking it around and poking at the ice with his straw to see if there was any left. When he discovered none, he discarded the cup in the trash and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like her.”
You spent very little time in the bathroom, your visit only being to calm your nerves and steady your thoughts, but you didn’t expect to see the same boy and the rest of his friends huddled outside the bathroom waiting for you.
Wide-eyed, you stared between the five of them.“Um…hello?”
“Hi!” Mingyu smiled at you brightly, side eyeing Jeonghan when he nudged him aside. A quiet gasp slips past your lips; this boy was gorgeous.
“I assume you have a name? Or should we continue calling you new girl?”
“My name…?” You repeated, feeling your body growing warm at the proximity between the two of you. “Oh, my name. I’m [Y/n].” Jeonghan nodded, and then he smiled at you. You felt even hotter now. A little dumb, too, certain that you were embarrassing yourself.
“That’s cute,” he said, still smiling softly. Jeonghan threw one of his arms over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he and the rest of his friends started to walk down the hallway. “So then, you’ll sit with us at lunch, right [Y/n]?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe that he was actually being serious with you. Soonyoung, finding this funny, couldn’t help but laugh.
“Who’s stammering now?” He quipped, earning him a glare from Jeonghan. Soonyoung didn’t speak again.
“Sit with you?” You asked again, and Jeonghan nodded. “Are you sure?” Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you as you were basically escorted down the hall with Jeonghan at your side, except this time it wasn’t your imagination. For some reason it felt like you were being stared at now more than ever.
“Of course we’re sure.” Joshua reassured you. When he looked close enough to fully take in the look on your face, he gave you a smile that was full of sympathy. “Ignore them. They’re all assholes. We’re the nice ones!”
Joshua was right, in a way. Jeonghan and his friends were the nicest group of assholes you’ve ever been associated with. It was one of those “mean to everyone except you” type of dynamics, especially with Jeonghan himself. You knew it wasn’t wise to, but you couldn’t help how your heart would beat faster whenever he was around since he only seemed to regard you as a close friend and nothing more.
You also couldn’t help but notice that he was as oblivious as he was cute. The others noticed, (Joshua was the first, obviously, then Minghao, then Mingyu, and then Soonyoung, who was heartbroken that you’d choose Jeonghan over him, and you didn’t know if he was joking or not) but he seemed like the only one who couldn’t get a hint. Even when you were being as direct and obvious as possible, Jeonghan still remained as unaffected by your affection as a white crayon did on white paper.
By senior year, you and Jeonghan started to grow apart. It was gradual, falling out of touch with one another as the last school year just passed you both by, until it seemed like Jeonghan was once again nothing but the cute boy you knew nothing about like he had been on your first day. The rest of the boys were devastated, Joshua most of all.
Aside from you, it seemed like he was the one who wanted Jeonghan to quit being dull and realize you liked him. Just tell him already, that’s what he’d always say. You always said you would, only to end up doing the opposite.
What if Jeonghan didn’t feel the same way? What if it destroyed your friendship? What if he never wanted anything to do with you after you told him? Each question seemed more unbearable than the last. It was easier to love him than to lose him.
The last time you saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, roaming around the parking lot past all the smiling families taking pictures of their children with their brand new diplomas, looking for your aunt’s car—you ran into him.
“[Y/n]!” He called out to you, waving both of his arms in the air to draw your attention. He hugged you once you were close enough, squeezing you a little bit. “I’m sad now, we’re not going to see each other every day anymore,” he pouted, and you smiled, even though the thought of that saddened you just as much.
Having him act so naturally with you threw you for such a loop. Talking to him like this made it feel like your friendship hadn’t come to an end, like you two were old friends who had never been apart.
“Don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” You continued to smile, trying hard to make sure it didn’t look fake. You needed to believe what you were saying if you wanted him to do the same. Luckily for you it seemed effective, because Jeonghan’s face soon broke into a smile as well before he held his pinky up to you.
“Promise?”
Now you were smiling for real. Jeonghan, at the ripe age of eighteen, still believed deeply in pinky promises. They were sacred, never to be broken, those were his words. Others may have found him childish for this, you found it noble.
Nodding, you linked your pinky with his. “Promise.”
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The promise you made with Jeonghan turned five today. Five years since senior year ended, five years since you made that promise with him, five years since you’ve seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face in person.
Now you saw him everywhere; on billboards, in ads, plastered on posters in the windows of just about every store—everywhere you went, Jeonghan’s face was sure to be there.
He was certainly doing better than you, no doubt. Odds are he wouldn’t even recognize you anymore. You worked at the local Ihop, drive your aunt’s old Toyota Camry, trying to save up enough money to move out of her house and into your own apartment.
You had wanted to attend college, even if only for a little, but your aunt only had enough money stashed away to send you to that ridiculously pricey private school, not to mention room she was already taking care of you for your mom while she was still…away, and you couldn’t afford to go into debt or pay anyone back.
So while Jeonghan walked runways in Milan and New York, you stayed in town and missed him every time his name was mentioned by one of your coworkers, forcing away the feelings you harbored for him.
Something like that was bound to happen to him, though. He was already so handsome, and his parents no doubt had the connections needed to allow something like that for their son. You were happy for him. Even after all this time, you continued to remain his biggest supporter. You’d buy every product he endorsed, watch any content he was featured in, and you’d stare at his pictures in awe, unable to believe that he just always seemed to get more and more good looking.
To Jeonghan, it was different. He enjoyed the attention. He liked being told by other people how handsome he was. He liked having people who adored him. But that was about it. Not once did he enjoy waking up early, rushing from shoot to shoot, sitting through meetings, none of it. He could live without the pressure to keep smiling, or the nagging from his parents, or—worst of all—the questions on his love life.
Jeonghan had never dated anyone since becoming a model, not even in private. There were zero scandals regarding a romantic relationship when it came to him, but the media was still unconvinced. He wondered how or why they always found the time to be so nosy. Why couldn’t they understand that’s just not what he was looking for right now?
“So Jeonghan, I think you all know the question on every one of our minds, right?” Jihyo asked with a smile, shifting around in her seat a little. Jeonghan responded with his convincing fake laughs—he had to have them mastered by now after all the invasive questions he’d constantly be asked by people like the paparazzi, or in this case, talk-show hosts. “Is there a special girl in your life that you’re hiding from us?”
The audience erupted into a fit of “ooo’s” and “aah’s” all while Jeonghan tried to hide his discomfort with the subject. “Honestly, Jihyo? There really is nobody right now. I’m just…not interested in dating.”
“Oh, come on! Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone in secret?” The sound of Jihyo’s laughter echoed through the studio as is blended with the reactions from the audience. Jeonghan laughed along with her, wondering how much longer he’d be here. He’d already had to have a long meeting with his parents and his agency this morning, then done a product endorsement for a cosmetics brand afterwards, and now he was here, entertaining Jihyo and her live studio audience. Today was relatively low maintenance for him, so after he left here there was only one thing he wanted to do before going home; eat.
Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “If I were seeing someone, they wouldn’t be a secret.”
Jihyo’s face lit up in surprise, her mouth parting as she took in his response. “Wow! It seems like Jeonghan is that kind of boyfriend, huh?” Various reactions came from the crowd, most of them being screams of Jeonghan’s name praising him for his response. “All right, that’s all the time we have for today, but tune in tomorrow to hear Jo Yuri talk about her acting debut! That’s all for now!”
“Alright, that’s it people! Let’s wrap it up!”
Jeonghan exhaled with relief, saying a polite goodbye to Jihyo before he excused himself off the set and to his car. He cursed when he noticed how dark the sky was beginning to get. Most of the places he wanted to go would be closing by now. He thought hard to remember the places that stayed open late, then remembered that the local Ihop was always open. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the place, not by a long shot, but he’d just have to suck it up for the sake of his hunger.
Business at work had been slow today. It was only Monday, and you never got too much of a crowd during the start of the week, especially not when it was so early in the morning. Chaewon had suggested the two of you take a short break in the bathroom (though knowing her, she just wanted to gossip).
“No way, [Y/n]. You’re telling me you really knew Jeonghan in high school?” Chaewon asked you, leaning against the bathroom sink as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. “What was he like?”
You shrugged as you washed your hands. “He was nice. Well, he was nice to me.” This made Chaewon gasp and grab onto your shoulder, pressing her lips together to try and hide the smile creeping onto her face.
“Oh my gosh, he was totally into you!”
Yoon Jeonghan? Into you? You laughed dryly, really finding your friend’s enthusiasm cute, but at the same time you seriously doubted it. If what he said in those interviews were true, there was no chance. He wasn’t interested in dating; in relationships altogether.
You were just about to respond to her when the door to the bathroom flew open. Sakura, your manager, was standing in the doorway staring at the two of you like she’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.
“What are you two still doing in here?” She asked. “Someone is waiting to have their order taken.”
“Coming,” you sighed, patting your hands dry with three paper towels too many and rushing out behind Sakura. You approached one of the booths closer to the entrance, notepad in hand. “Welcome to Ihop, what can I—”
The person sitting in the booth lowers the menu, and time seems to stop. He looks up at you. You look down at him. It was like neither of you could believe you were seeing each other in this setting, of all places.
“Jeong…han?” You mumbled, blinking rapidly to see if he was really the person sitting there. He couldn’t really be here, could he? But then he smirked and you were convinced; he was real.
“It’s good to see you too, [Y/n].” He muses, flipping back and forth through the menu a few more times before setting in down on the table. He soaks in the dumbfounded look on your face with an overly smug smile. “Don’t just stand there, sit.”
“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”
“Sit.”
You slid down into the seat across from him without missing a beat. A part of you felt embarrassed for giving into him so easily, the part of you with dignity.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, which got you an amused laugh from Jeonghan.
“I’m hungry, [Y/n]. Why else do people come to Ihop?”
Well, it was good to know he was still a smart ass after all this time. Even if you were attracted to him, then and now, you still couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Okay, you know that’s not what I mean.”
Jeonghan tilted his head to one side. “I live here too, remember?” Then he sighed and laughed weakly. “Has it really been that long?”
A frown found its way onto your lips. Maybe it has been that long, it was like Jeonghan was suddenly a stranger to you even after the time you’d spent together in school. Thinking about that made something inside of you ache.
“I guess it has.” You mumbled. Your eyes remained locked on the table and not Jeonghan, not even when he started to give you his order. Sliding out of the seat, you gave him your usual service industry smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”
You scrambled to the kitchen, handing off the order to the cooks. “Hey, Chaewon, can you go bring the customer out there his drink?”
Slightly skeptical, Chaewon glanced down at the glass in your hand yet took it anyway. “Why can’t you go bring it to him? You already took his order.”
“Just help me out, okay? Just this once?” The girl sighed, mumbling under her breath as she exited the kitchen. You try to take this moment to finally catch your breath and calm your nerves, but it’s quickly ruined when you hear a shriek, followed by Chaewon running back to the kitchen, a starstruck look on her face.
“Yoon Jeonghan is in our restaurant,” she says, her hand clutching the front of her shirt. “And he’s asking for you, [Y/n].”
Of course he’s asking for you. There was no way you’d get out of this little reunion with him so easily. Jeonghan never let things be simple, you’d learned that quickly from your time being friends with him.
“Just bring the food once it’s ready, Chae,” you muttered, walking out of the kitchen and back to the booth Jeonghan was seated at. He looked up at you, pointing to the spot across from him, and you sat. “Is there something you want from me, Jeonghan?”
“Just some company,” He replied with a faux pout. He noticed that you were still looking at him like you could see through his lie, so he shrugged and smiled. “Okay, fine. I really did come here to eat, but I do need help with something else too.”
Raising your eyebrows, you urged him to continue. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” If you had opened your eyes any wider, they probably might have popped out of your head.
“W-What?” You shouted. Jeonghan put one of his fingers to his lips to shush you, which only helped to get you quiet and not to calm your racing heart. “But you’re always saying…”
“Listen,” He held one of your hand with both of his. “I know, I know. I’m always saying I’m not looking to date right now. But that’s exactly why I need you. I’m hoping to get everyone off my fucking back even if it’s just for a little while. Once the news of our relationship dies down, we can call it quits.”
You felt like this was a really vivid dream; like your subconscious was playing an elaborate trick on you and that none of this was actually real. Jeonghan squeezed your hand and looked at you expectantly. This must’ve been really important to him, and he was counting on you. Curse your simple heart, seven years had passed and you still felt like the love struck sixteen year old you were when you first met him.
This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. You should tell him that. There is no way you should say—
“Okay, fine. But only until the news dies down.”
Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.
“I knew I could count on you.”
Thinking with your brain was always hard for you to do whenever you even thought about him, so having him make such a large request of you was basically keeping you from acting with any sort of rationality.
But Jeonghan didn’t need to know all that. You propped your elbow up on the cool surface of the table and leaned your head into the palm of your hand, swallowing down your apprehension. “What are friends for?”
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When you woke up the next morning, the only thing on your mind was Jeonghan. Your interaction with him at your job hadn’t been a dream. He had asked you to be his (pretend) girlfriend, and you had agreed. You partly regretted the decision like you would a hangover, knowing that you still had feelings for him and telling him you’d go along with his plans could only end so many ways. You’d have to stop thinking with your heart so often.
In your moment of doubt, you received a text from Jeonghan. After he had finished his very late lunch yesterday, he tore off a piece of the receipt and scribbled down his phone number on it for you to keep, leaving you behind with a generous tip and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Fucking butterflies.
He’d also left you a very lovely, romantic text.
I’m picking you up at 7:45.
Ever the charmer. You checked the time; it was exactly 7. You groaned and hoped that this wouldn’t become an everyday thing, you didn’t even go into work this early.
Jeonghan ended up arriving outside your aunt’s house ten minutes later than he said he would, which only made you feel dumb for racing against the clock to make yourself look presentable.
He kept his eyes on you as you buckled up. “Good morning.” You side-eyed him, just barely making out the stupid lopsided grin on his lips.
“For you, maybe.”
“You’ll get used to it, I already have.”
So this would be an everyday thing. Great.
Accompanying Jeonghan around had given you a unique perspective on your own life. You had already thought there was a lot on your own plate, but Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how he handled it all. Sitting through meetings, fittings, hair and makeup, and photoshoot after photoshoot was tiring you out and you weren’t even the model.
You did like the rush of pride you got whenever Jeonghan introduced you as his girlfriend. Getting to see the shocked look on the faces of the people who worked beside him made you feel like you were important. If you didn’t have to get up so early all the time, maybe this was something you could get used to.
“It’s boring, right?” Jeonghan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed, waving away the man that was wiping off his makeup. “The sitting around, the waiting, all of it. You’re bored, aren’t you?”
You raised one of your eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m bored?” You asked. “Are you bored?”
“Obviously,” he scoffed in reply. “I would’ve rather done pretty much anything else. I mentioned being a model, like, one time and they just went with it. I didn’t wanna argue with my parents, though.” He shrugged, and that was it.
There was a sudden awkward tension in the air with Jeonghan’s overly honest confession. You glanced at the man who was in charge of removing his makeup, sharing a sheepish look with him before breaking eye contact. He was two for two on the eye opening revelations today, and you weren’t too sure you could handle a third.
Clearing your throat, you tried to think of a way to steer the conversation into a different direction. “So, uh, where to after this?”
“The gym. I would’ve gone tomorrow but Joshua said he’d meet me there.”
Finally, a break in this drag of a schedule of his. And you’d get to see Joshua. You could feel your boredom melting away like ice on a hot day as you got up and stretched.
“I’ll be in the car.”
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So, about the visit to the gym…
It was fine at first. Normal. You greeted Joshua, hugged him, expressed how good it was to see him and how much you had missed him after all this time, and he smiled and done the same.
Speaking of Joshua, he had almost screamed when Jeonghan mentioned that you and him were seeing each other, and when he looked at you to confirm that he was telling the truth, he did scream, earning him confused and concerned stares from the people around you. Lying to him warded off the happy feeling you had built up on the way over here in a heartbeat, so you stayed silent for the duration of his workout with Jeonghan.
“Shit, dude, I gotta go. Something just came up,” Joshua apologized quickly and rushed out of the building, leaving just you, Jeonghan, and a small handful of other people rich or important enough to get into this private space.
You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the hot, sticky air of the gym. Maybe it was Jeonghan sitting there, all sweaty and panting and looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. Maybe it was a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring your mind to conjure up the words for, but something was about to happen, you could feel it.
“I should shower.” Jeonghan suddenly said, parting his sweaty body from the machine he had been occupying. His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wanna join?”
That’s the short version of how you ended up pressed up against the wall gym shower, your back to Jeonghan as he took you from behind. Your head spun with desire and a dash of shame. Even though it felt really good, you hadn’t even kissed Jeonghan once since declaring your status as (fake) girlfriend and boyfriend.
“Oh, baby. If I had known you felt this good I’d have done this ages ago,” Jeonghan moaned into your ear, and you could feel your knees buckle under you. That sweet-talking mouth of his would definitely be a problem for you, you were calling it now. Hearing such vulgar comments fall from his lips so naturally made you wonder why he was so good at this.
“F-Fuck, Jeonghan. Don’t stop…” The tiles of the small shower felt cold and wet against your skin, the feeling being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded. Jeonghan’s hands held your hips tightly when you almost slipped as he mumbled something about being careful. If you weren’t in this position you’d have slapped him. “You’re not funny.”
Jeonghan isn’t bothered by your remark in the slightest. He snaps his hips forward, loving the way you gasp and push yourself back to meet his thrusts. He really thought you looked cute like this, so easily losing your composure because of him. He knew about the effect he could have on people, but none of them mattered now that he saw how you reacted to him. “Tell me how it feels baby.”
“So good, Jeonghan. F-Feels so fucking good.” You whined, your mine tuned in on the feeling of his wet skin against yours and the sounds of both of your moans.
“That’s right, feels so good. You’re so cute, you know that?”
Your muscles clenching around his cock when he said that was the one thing that seemed to have Jeonghan lose his cool. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while he rubbed your clit in fast circles, urging you closer and closer to the bliss of your release.
“Gonna…I’m g-gonna—” You try to say only to be cut off by your own hoarse wail of Jeonghan’s name as your orgasm hits you. Afraid that you might fall, Jeonghan holds onto you even tighter all while continuing to fuck you through your high. He glances down, biting his lip at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock and the streaks of cum streaking down your inner thighs. Never did he think a visual so filthy would get him off, but he couldn’t help but bite your shoulder and curse quietly as he felt himself cum.
The water had gone cold by now, making the realization of just how long you’d been in here weigh heavy on your mind. Jeonghan squeezed one of your hips before he pulled out of you and stepped out to find some towels. You turned off the cool water, leaning back against the same wall you’d just been fucked against and sighed.
Now you really couldn’t go back.
Out of nowhere, a hauntingly embarrassing thought crawled its way into your mind. “Oh no,” you gasped. “Jeonghan, what if someone heard us?” He just laughed at your panicked words.
“Private gym, private showers.” He explained, smiling when you visibly relaxed. “You make some pretty funny faces, has anyone ever told you that?”
You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. “Yeah, you have, back in school.” There had been many instances in your teenage years where Jeonghan had often laughed harder to your reactions to certain events more than the event itself, and he’d always tell you how “fascinating” your range of facial expressions were. History does repeat itself after all. “Has it really been that long?” Hearing the words he’d said to you the other day elicited a soft chuckle from Jeonghan as he pulled your body closer to his, wrapping one of the warm towels around your shivering frame.
You didn’t like the way your heart was beating faster at an action as simple as that as if he hadn’t just had his way with you in that little cubicle this place dared to call a shower, but you just laughed with him and hoped that he wouldn’t notice.
“I guess it has.”
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When you returned to work on Friday, you received a warm welcome from your favorite coworker and best friend.
Translation: Chaewon screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking you back and forth.
“You didn’t tell me you’re DATING YOON JEONGHAN!” Her grip was entering bruise territory. “I thought we were friends!”
“Chaewon, please,” Sakura sighed, prying you out of her arms. “You’re dating that boy that came in the other day? What’s the big deal?”
Chaewon had never looked so shocked. Well, that’s a lie, but right now that’s just how her face looked. “The big deal is him! He’s literally everywhere, Sakura. He’s YOON JEONGHAN!”
The customers could no doubt hear her frantic screaming from the kitchen despite your best efforts to make her quiet down. Unfortunately trying to get Chaewon to calm down was like trying to get a penguin to fly.
“How do you even know about that anyway?” You asked. Chaewon held up a finger, quickly pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing a few words into google and hitting search. She held it out to you and Sakura, and your jaw dropped.
Pictures of you and Jeonghan leaving the gym together, hand in hand, along with a plethora of articles inquiring about your identity as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. Your face wasn’t visible in any of them, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were the one beside him in those photos.
“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s you alright.” Sakura hummed without even sparing you a glance. “That’s nice. He’s a handsome guy. Good for you, [Y/n].”
You smiled, feeling a little awkward with all the sudden attention. “Thanks, Kkura.” You couldn’t even prepare yourself to be grabbed by Chaewon a second time, so you just let it happen.
“Tell. Me. Everything.”
“Uh…”
“You can talk after work,” Sakura sighed, pulling you away from Chaewon once again. “[Y/n]’s boyfriend will still be with her after her shift is over.”
You really hoped so.
For almost the entirety of your shift, you were somewhat unfocused on your actual job and more on the leaked pictures of you and Jeonghan. Never had you been used to having so much attention on you, especially over a guy. Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t just any guy, but still. All of the hype had to be because of what he’d always preached about not being interested in dating, no doubt, but other than that your sentiment was similar to that of your manager’s: what’s the big deal?
Chaewon also seemed off, though it was mostly only because she couldn’t wait to pick your brain about your relationship with the model. She kept looking at you and smiling for the entirety of your shift, and you’d just try and pretend you didn’t see her. It was working fine until you know who came back to pay you another unexpected visit.
“Hey, your boyfriend is here!” She whispered to you when you returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. You felt confused and surprised at the same time, he was supposed to be…anywhere but here right now. The stupid organ in your chest jumped when you considered the possibility that he was actually here for you.
Making your way to the front of the restaurant, Jeonghan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking pleased to see you.
“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?” He pouted at you.
“Is that the only question you know how to ask me?” You crossed your arms, not in the mood for his little games right now. “Sorry, fine. I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re handling the news well.”
“News…? Oh, that.” You weren’t too thrilled to talk about your sudden rise to fame even though it had been the only thing on your mind ever since finding out from Chaewon today. Kind of ironic. “It’s whatever, I guess. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when Chaewon showed me the pictures, but that was pretty much it.” You shrugged.
“Wow,” Jeonghan hummed. “Have you always been this blunt? Where’s the girl with the bob? I like her energy better.” He started to laugh, the sound only getting louder when you hit him on the chest. You knew didn’t hurt him, not even in the slightest, and his cute giggling only made you madder. Damn him and his smart mouth. “Just kidding, baby.”
And there he goes with the nicknames again. Seriously, damn him and his smart talking, filthy, mouth and all the words he’d speak with it to get you all flustered.
“You never answered me. Don’t you have a photo shoot or a fitting, or, I don’t know, somewhere else to be instead of Ihop on a Friday?”
Jeonghan just smiled at you. “Forgive me for wanting to just stop by and say hello to my girlfriend.”
“Jeonghan.”
Your eyes watched him as he tried to bite back the smile on his lips to no avail. He nodded slowly, seemingly getting the hint that you could always manage to see right through him. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.
“Alright, alright. You remember that show I was on not too long ago? The one with Jiyho?” Of course you remembered. Chaewon had sent the link to the video once it was uploaded to youtube (like she did with everything involving Jeonghan) along with a bunch of incorrectly spelled words in all caps expressing her excitement and disbelief. He continued speaking once you nodded. “Yeah, so, she pretty much wants me back on the show…with you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, waiting for you to object to the whole thing.
But you don’t object. You glance to the side once, then back at him, and shrug like you had done moments earlier. “Okay. I’m off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.” The man in front of you sighed and shook his head.
“She wants us there tomorrow. Can’t you get someone else to come in for you, or something?”
You exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me, okay? This is coming out of my paycheck.” The look of utter happiness on Jeonghan’s face whenever you give into him is something you think you’ll never get tired of seeing, like he really thought it’d take more convincing to get you to say yes. You’ve literally been wrapped around his finger since you were sixteen, it was honestly surprising that he had the nerve to explain himself to you sometimes when you damn near lacked the ability to say no to him.
“You’re the best,” he was still smiling when he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? Wear something cute.”
You made some sort of strange yet quiet noise of acknowledgment, watching him with slightly parted lips as he walked out of the doors and back to his car. Jeonghan had just kissed you. On the forehead, yeah, but it was still a kiss. And not like he had kissed you in the shower, either, this one felt different. Tingly. You’d have probably stayed rooted to that spot if Sakura hadn’t started yelling for you to get back to work.
“Coming!”
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Mornings always seemed to come too fast for you, especially when you were going anywhere with Jeonghan. Time had to be speeding up on purpose knowing that you were always rushing to get ready lest you make Jeonghan late to one of his unmissable and very important (that you were still shocked to discover how much he despised) events.
You were worried about wearing the “wrong thing” even though you had no idea you should wear for something like this and texted Jeonghan for help last night. He responded with a short explanation of what he’d be wearing and said that you could just wear whatever you thought would match or complement what he’d have on. And then he’d sent one more a few minutes after that. One that read:
good night [y/n] sleep thigh
You had responded with a series of question marks, expecting some kind of explanation or clarification, but he must’ve gone to sleep right after that because there was no response for the rest of the night.
So when you had settled yourself into the passenger seat of his car, you’d decide to question him about it now.
“Oh, I meant sleep tight,” Jeonghan told you. He pointed at the seatbelt, staring at you until you were buckled up and only then did the car start to move. “Were you really thinking about that all night? Even I make spelling mistakes, [Y/n].”
You could sense that he was about to start laughing even before you started talking. “No! I just…whatever, nevermind.” And you’d been right, Jeonghan laughed just like he always did whenever you seemed to make what you considered a fool of yourself in front of him. He noticed that you were frowning from the corner of his eye and placed one of his hands on your thigh. You flinched at the contact.
“What?” He asked, starting to pull it away, but you grabbed it and placed it back down.
“Nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Your hands are just cold.” This made him smirk. He poked your cheek, your forearm, and your upper thigh, the smile on his face getting wider each time you shivered and tried to push it away. “Quit it!”
“You like it,” he was giggling now, and you were too. You didn’t even realize that you were until he had pointed to your mouth and laughed even harder. As long as Jeonghan had known you, you’d never giggled before. He joked that he was starting to rub off on you as he poked you with his cold fingers one more time. “I like that dress, by the way.” His hand found its way back to your thigh, feeling slightly less cold now. Maybe the heat of your body was warming him up, because you definitely felt hot right now.
“Thank you.”
“Mhm. You wore it just for me, didn’t you?”
Your eyes grew the slightest bit wider. That was partly the truth, yes. You’d also worn it because he’d told you to wear something nice and this dress just so happened to be one of the nicest pieces of clothing you owned that was appropriate for an event like this. The former option seemed to be the one he was more interested in though, seeing as how he was pushing up the hem of the dress and glancing at your underwear—and the wet patch on it.
“Well, yeah, you kinda told me to.” Jeonghan loved the fact that you were actively choosing to either ignore the fact that you were wet right now or pretend like it didn’t faze you. He pressed one of his (still somewhat cold) fingers on the spot and started to rub it, making you shiver and moan. “J-Jeonghan, you’re doing this now?”
“Ah, you know what? You’re right. My hands are still cold, aren’t they?” He mumbled, but his hand stayed placed firmly against your upper thigh. You hated the way you whined at his teasing and the way you craved more. “Aww, baby. I was just doing what you wanted. Are you mad at me now?”
“You’re literally the worst!” Huffing, you slapped his hand away and Jeonghan, stubborn as ever, just placed it right back down on your thigh. “Don’t touch me.” You tried sounding stern despite the way you were starting to grin, much to Jeonghan’s amusement.
“I owe you one, okay?” His voice was full of nothing but sincerity as he pulled the edges of your dress back down. “Put on a good show for Jihyo and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want later, deal?”
Your response came immediately, like you hadn’t even had to think about it. “Deal.”
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Jihyo was even prettier in person. You weren’t used to seeing her without her hair in a bob, like Chaewon, but she seemed to be in the process of growing her hair out. Her skin was a little tanner in person and she had a smile that was kind and natural, which made you feel at ease.
“So, everyone, I’m sure you’ve all seen the pictures, right? Of Jeonghan and his supposed girlfriend?” Jihyo turned so that she faced the audience, nodding along at their responses. “I know, I saw them too, and when I tell you my jaw literally dropped. I was like, I’ve gotta get him back on the show. Well here he is, everyone! And with his mystery girl too!” She held one of her arms out and the audience erupted into applause seeing you and Jeonghan hand in hand walk onto the set. Jihyo clapped as well, watching the two of you the whole time while you took your seats beside each other.
“It’s good to be back, Jihyo. Thanks for having me.” Jeonghan was as polite as ever, his fingers still interlaced with your own. The woman just scoffed and shook her head.
“Oh, it’s nothing! You know how much of a joy you are to have on set.” Then she turned to you, eyebrows shooting up. “And you! What’s your name, sweetie?”
“I’m [Y/n].” The smile on your face was a little awkward, but the audience still received the interaction positively and applauded once more.
“Well [Y/n], aren’t you a lucky girl?” She leaned a little forward in her seat. “You’re doing what a lot of other girls could literally only dream of. How does it feel to be dating Jeonghan?”
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s like a dream come true. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. And it’s all one big lie.
“It’s…it’s really crazy to think about it, you know? Like, I’m just a normal girl, but I’m dating him?” You ended your reply by gesturing to Jeonghan, both of you smiling. More clapping came from the audience. It seemed to be going well.
“That’s totally understandable. If I were you, I would’ve lost it. You probably did lose it a little, I would imagine, right?” You nodded at her question, recalling the day he had proposed the whole idea to you. Thinking about how you managed to keep your nerves under control in that situation amazed you, followed by a surge of pride for being able to keep up your act on nonchalance so well when in Jeonghan’s presence. So in Jihyo’s words, yeah, you did lose it just a little.
“Right, right. And you, mister, how long has this been going on?” Jihyo pointed one of her neatly manicured fingers right at Jeonghan. “I remember you saying you’d never keep that special someone a secret.”
Jeonghan leaned back and rested his hands flat on the arms of his chair. “[Y/n] wasn’t ready to be in the public eye. She was just nervous, and I’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. Forgive me.” Seeing the fake pout on his lips caused one to form on Jihyo’s face as well. He was pretty good at this lying on the spot stuff. Maybe a little too good.
“You sweet thing. What a considerate boyfriend. Anyone else feeling a little bit jealous right now?” Jihyo glanced at the audience, responding as eagerly as ever. “I’m definitely feeling a little envious. Like just a pinch. No, but seriously, I wanna know everything. Oh, tell us this: who fell in love first? I’m really curious.”
You sat up in your seat a little straighter. Should you answer? Should you tell the truth? Would Jeonghan finally get the hint you just confessed right now, or would he think you’re just playing along?
“I did.” You snapped your head in Jeonghan’s direction, and you felt tingly again. It didn’t help that he winked at you either, insinuating that this was yet another lie and that you should continue to act naturally. The audience was eating this up.
Jihyo held her hands over her open mouth, looking between you and the crowd. “Wow! I…just wow! I’m so shocked! I was expecting you to be the one who…” She couldn’t even finish speaking given her exasperation, but you could read between the lines. Jihyo wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop with his answer, you genuinely had no idea he would say that. “[Y/n], sweetie, did you know he was the one who liked you first?”
“No,” you were being honest for the first time. “I’m just as shocked as you are.” You look at Jeonghan once again, your eyes immediately noticing the smug look written all over his face. You didn’t like it.
A few more questions later, Jihyo announced that there was “no more time, sorry, i know,” and started to dismiss everyone on the set. You and Jeonghan gave her one last round of polite smiling and goodbyes before you let Jeonghan escort you back to his car. The difference in your moods was stark; Jeonghan seemed to be on cloud nine while you were still hung up over what he had told Jihyo earlier.
“Um, Jeonghan, about what you said back there…”
“I know, right! Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?” He looked so happy, sounded so happy. Anyone could tell he was enjoying the attention. You weren’t. You wanted answers.
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I saw them. They really just eat up anything you say, even if you’re lying.”
For the first time in a while, you noticed a dramatic change in Jeonghan’s expression. It was only for a second, maybe less, but it happened. Something like nervousness mixed with a dash of sadness and a pinch of guilt mixed together and slapped right onto the canvas of his face to create the masterpiece of his composure being lost. And then just as quickly as he let it fall, he slapped the mask back onto his face in the form of that carefree grin.
“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’ll drop you off and then we’ll talk all about it.”
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Jeonghan was good at keeping his promises. He kept the one you made at graduation to see you again—which was probably just dumb luck, but it counted. He kept the one he made to you after you left the gym and brought you to your favorite coffee place so you could a drink and a cake pop. He even kept the one he made to you in Junior year when you dropped Minghao’s phone in the pool (you both blamed it on Mingyu). He had not kept his promise to talk to you about what he said in the interview with Jihyo. You were too occupied with his other promise (technically, it was a deal) you’d made with him before that.
“You’re a natural on camera, baby,” He whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your sides. Jeonghan had his hand down your underwear the whole drive back to your aunt’s house, and when he finally pulled into the driveway, you were scrambling into his lap. Seeing you so worked up made Jeonghan feel good. He leaned back the drivers seat and let you grind against his erection, flooding the inside of your mind until you could think of nothing but him. “I can tell they just loved you.”
“You really talk too much sometimes,” You mumbled. Jeonghan loved nothing more than when you talked back to him, it only made things more fun when he watched you fall apart on his cock in the moments that would follow. “You and your filthy mouth.”
“Shut me up then.”
Jeonghan licked his lips, and you watched him do so with bated breath. He was challenging you. Up until now, you had never kissed each other. You were afraid that if you did, some kind of invisible, imaginary line would be crossed and then it’d be that much harder to let him go. But what the hell, you’d already had him balls deep inside of you, what was a kiss compared to that?
His perfect, pink, lips were calling out to you like a siren does a sailor. There was no resistance when you finally kissed him, finally feeling the softness of his lips against your own. Jeonghan pulls you closer, the sudden friction between your bare core and his clothed cock making the two of you moan into the other’s mouth.
“Ride me,” He whispered with need. Need, you thought, Jeonghan needed this from you. This would’ve been the ideal time to tease him back considering his current state. But fuck, you needed him too.
Jeonghan helped you unbutton his pants and slide them down along with his boxers just enough for you to sink down onto his aching cock. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He felt so much deeper, so much better, so much closer.
He let a chuckle slip past his lips. “Your heart…it’s beating fast.” His ability to be snarky and annoying never seemed to escape him.
“Is yours not?” You asked him while you rocked your hips back and forth lazily. The last thing you wanted to do was rush this moment, this might be the last time you got to have him like this, you wanted it to last. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around one of your wrists and placed it flat against his chest.
His heart was beating just as fast as yours.
There was probably a word out there somewhere to properly convey the emotions you were feeling, not that you could think of it right now with the way Jeonghan was scrambling not only your insides—but your mind, too.
Neither of you spoke again after that. You became caught up in the moment, in the way each other felt. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed when the motions of your hips became faster, the obscene sound of his moaning overpowering your own gasps and whines of pleasure. He looked a fucked out mess; swollen lips, dark eyes, messy hair, the whole nine yards. If your eyes could take pictures, you’d want a million of him in this moment.
Jeonghan couldn’t stop kissing you. He’d been waiting for you to take the initiative, to let go of your hesitation. And now he was addicted to you and the way you kissed him and slipped your tongue into his mouth like you just couldn’t get enough.
“‘M gonna fucking cum, baby,” he breathed, thrusting up into you without warning. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting, feeling yourself get close too. He kissed you, sloppily, his dick bruising the spongy spot inside you until you were seeing white. No less than a few seconds later Jeonghan was doing the same, your sloppy cunt milking him dry. You stayed like that for a while, his forehead pressed to yours, until the speed and sound of your breathing fell into the same rhythm.
“I’ve gotta go,” is how he chose to break the silence, kissing you to silence your whine of protest. “I know, I’m sorry. But hey, my family is having a party in a few weeks. Some business shit, probably for publicity. I don’t know all the details, but they told me to bring you so they could finally meet you in person.”
You couldn’t muster any other response aside from a sigh. “I’ll be there.”
He kissed you one last time. “That’s my girl.”
One promise kept, another one broken.
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“You know, that day you asked me to cover your shift, I didn’t expect it was because you were running off with your boyfriend to go on some talk show,” Yeonjun mumbled, taking the somewhat heavy box labeled “bathroom” out of your hands and walking it to that room. “It must be nice, right?” His voice echoed through the empty space of your new apartment.
“Why, you jealous?” You could hear him scoff all the way from the bathroom, making you and Chaewon laugh.
It’s been two weeks since you’ve heard from Jeonghan. His schedule has gotten increasingly busier ever since his reappearance on Jihyo’s show (which only made the news of your relationship more popular) , and you missed him for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that talk you never had about what he’d said that day. Every time you’d try to bring it up with him there was always a way he managed to weasel his way out of giving you an answer, so you’d given up trying at this point.
In better news, you’d finally managed to save up enough money to move out of your aunts house and into a decent little apartment downtown. It was kind of small, but it was just you, so you were fine with it. Today you’d finally started to move in most of your things. Joshua, Mingyu, and Soonyoung would come over tomorrow to help you set up your bed and shelves and other things that required the ability to decipher Ikea instructions. Minghao would come too, but not to help put anything together. He just wanted to scope out the place and advise you on the best way to decorate it.
So for now it was just you, your coworkers, and a couple of boxes containing the few things that you owned.
“What was it like seeing Jihyo in person?” Chaewon asked, taking a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“She was nice. And pretty. She’s also more tan in person.” You replied. “I really need to go to the store, I’ve barely got any real furniture.” You stared into your box labeled “kitchen” and felt taunted by the plastic cutlery that rested inside.
There was a sudden knock at the door. You looked at Chaewon and she shrugged, just as clueless as you. You padded to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. It was Jeonghan. Chaewon gasped, and you could hear her jump off of the counter and shuffle over to the doorway. He looked tired and a little annoyed standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. Today must’ve been one of his off days because he was dressed way more casually than he normally was.
“Hey baby. Hi Chaewon.” His voice sounded slightly deeper than you were used to hearing it. Chaewon waved tentatively from her position behind you. “Can I come in?” You took a step to the side, enough to let him come in, and he looked around the mostly empty space with an unreadable expression. “You never told me you moved out of your aunt’s place.”
“Right, yeah, sorry,” You shrugged. “You were just so busy, I didn’t want to bother you. It just slipped my mind.” Jeonghan just shook his head and leaned against the counter.
“It’s fine, I would’ve made time to stop by and help if I’d known. Would’ve been better than all the shit I’ve been doing.”
Chaewon stood awkwardly to the side, soon accompanied by a clueless Yeonjun who had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing Jeonghan inside your apartment. “Um…we should get going right now actually. We’ll come back another day, okay [Y/n]?” She smiled at you and waved to Jeonghan with a bit more confidence this time and yanked Yeonjun out of the apartment behind her by his wrist, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.
The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.
“Do you think you could do me a favor?”
You hummed questioningly, watching Jeonghan’s head drop down and his gaze lower. You followed his eyes all the way down to the bulge in his pants. He frowned when you started laughing.
“This is funny to you?” You only laughed harder, one of your hands hovering over your mouth. “I don’t find anything funny about this.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you spoke through your laughs. “How did this even happen?”
He leans his head back and sighs. “I was thinking about you.” Your laughter immediately stops.
You’ve just come to two realizations.
1. Jeonghan admits he gets hard at the mere thought of you.
2. He came running here during one of his few days off because he wants your help dealing with it.
You felt a mix of things right now. Horny—obviously—but also proud, and kind of special. Weirdly enough, you liked the idea of Jeonghan running to you to find some sort of release. Or maybe you just really missed him in the wrong way.
“Come here.” Jeonghan beckons you closer, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re so pretty…”
“You too,” came your mumbled reply. You reached down to palm him through his sweatpants, eliciting a drawn-out groan from Jeonghan. His hips bucked into your hand, one of his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist similarly to the way he’d done in the car. You slowly sank to your knees, never once breaking eye contact with him.
The sight of you on your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes and your bottom lip between your teeth, Jeonghan could’ve blown a fucking load right then and there.
“Did you miss me, Hannie?”
Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath when you yanked down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his cock to the cool air of your apartment. “I always miss you, baby.”
You paused for a moment and wondered if he really meant that, but with his dick literally in your face you came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t the best time to mull things over. You peppered his tip with kisses and ran your hands up and down the base. You’d almost forgotten how much you love it when he moans for you.
“S-so good…you’re so good to me,” he rested his hands on the top of your head, breathing shakily when you finally closed your lips around him. Just when he thought he couldn’t become any more addicted to you, you went and proved him wrong.
You choked and dug your fingers into his thighs at an unexpected show of force from Jeonghan, pushing his cock deeper down your throat with a thrust of his hips. A loud gag shot out of your mouth when it hit the back of your throat, tears starting to well up inside of your eyes. He would’ve apologized if he didn’t think you didn’t like the sight of you like this. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said it without thinking, too caught up in the moment.
A single tear trailed down your cheek. You moaned around him and he copied the sound, the vibrations making him shiver with pleasure. Your jaw was starting to hurt, just a little, but Jeonghan seemed too far gone go notice anything but his own need to cum down your throat. You whined as loudly as you could, and that’s when he finally seemed to get the memo.
His grip became the slightest bit looser, letting you wrap your hands around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You feel kind of gross when you notice that there’s spit dripping down your chin, but Jeonghan thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He literally couldn’t take his eyes off of you, big brown eyes now dark with arousal.
“Will you be good and swallow for me, pretty girl?” He asked, though the question seemed entirely unnecessary given that you would’ve done so anyway. Nevertheless, you hummed in agreement, which was all he needed before the warmth of his cum spilled into your mouth. His body went limp once you tore yourself away from him and he leaned back against the countertop.
“I’ve never actually done that before, by the way,” you mentioned all too casually. Jeonghan stared at you, completely dumbfounded, like you hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him. Your face felt hot when you noticed his face. “What?”
“It’s kind of hard for me to believe that after what you just did, but okay.” He shook his head. “Oh, by the way, the party my parents are having is on a Thursday. Totally random, I know, but at lease you won’t have to call off and miss work. You can still make it, right?”
He really remembered that?
“Yeah…I can still come.” Jeonghan smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. It made you giggle. Maybe he really was rubbing off on you after all.
“Perfect.” You expected that to be it and for him to leave you, but instead he picked up one of the boxes on the floor and began unpacking the contents inside. “Do you like it here?”
“Huh?” You pushed aside the shock you felt by him still being here to give a proper answer. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. The people upstairs are kind of loud at night, though.”
Now he was giggling. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Not that kind of loud, Jeonghan. You’re so gross.” He was smiling at you, totally unbothered.
“You love me.”
Oh, if only he knew.
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Thursday has never come so fast. Time definitely had something against you, and this was the proof.
The venue for the party—some building as fancy as it was big located in the heart of the city—was hot with dim lights and hallways that were way too long. Dozens of people were lined up around the entrance with cameras and microphones. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, even from the passengers seat of Jeonghan’s car, and he grumbled.
“The fucking press is still out here?”
It’s late in the evening. The sun is setting. They’ve been camping out here for days. These people are nothing if not devoted.
“You did say this was a publicity event,” you squeezed his hand. “We’ll just walk fast and smile.”
A smile broke onto his face. “I’ve only done that, like, three times.”
“I remember it being more than that, actually.”
He pouted at you, making you giggle. He was so cute it was almost unbelievable.
“Are you nervous?”
“Well, maybe just a little.” It wasn’t the party or the public that scared you, but the idea of meeting Jeonghan’s parents made your stomach churn. He eased your worries with a kiss, then another, and another.
“You’ll be fine. I promise.”
You wanted to believe him. You don’t know if you really do. There’s no fooling your brain, but your heart is much more easily swayed by his words. He holds your hand tightly as he leads you past the hundreds of cameras and people crying out your name followed by some of the strangest questions you’ve probably ever been asked—no, definitely ever been asked. You squint your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low interior lighting, and you can see two people approaching. Jeonghan’s thumb rubs the back of your hand to soothe you.
“Ready?” He mumbles. You smile and nod.
“Not like I have a choice.”
“Jeonghan! [Y/n]! So happy you could make it.” His father greets you warmly, paired with a smile and a firm handshake. His mom is a bit less reserved with her affection, immediately pulling you into a hug.
“You look lovely, dear. Absolutely stunning.” You smile at the compliment. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”
“I feel the same. I’m still a little shaky.” You laughed and it seemed to ease the tension, given the way his parents laughed along with you. His father handed you a skinny glass of champagne which you eagerly accepted, sipping down the bubbly liquid. Jeonghan let go of your hand, now holding a glass of his own.
“I hope Jeonghan doesn’t give you too much trouble. We know he can be a bit of a handful at times.” The woman said, getting another laugh out of his father and you.
“Mom, please.”
“No, it’s okay. He’s really such a great guy. Our time together has been…” You sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jeonghan. He looked down at you, smirking. “…special.”
“Jeonghan? Oh, it really is him! Jeonghannie!”
You and Jeonghan both turned your heads to search for the source of the voice, both of your eyes landing on a girl with dark hair and plump lips waving at Jeonghan.
“Momo,” he smiled at her. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Momo smiled back. “We would’ve been here earlier, but Sana couldn’t decide on what to wear and Mina wasn’t being any help.” She huffed at the memory and shook her head. “But we’re here now. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”
You smiled tightly, trying to remain polite. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. It was the exact opposite of fucking fine. Not only was this Momo girl interrupting your moment with Jeonghan and his parents, but she was also acting as if you were invisible. And worst of all, Jeonghan seemed less bored with her sudden appearance and was paying more attention to her than you.
You paused. Were you getting jealous?
“Hey, you don’t mind if Jeonghan takes some pictures with me and my friends, right?” She put a hand on your arm and squeezed lightly, snapping you out of your daze.
“No, it’s okay.” Momo smiled again, and you couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was. With your approval, Momo linked her arm with Jeonghan’s, leading him to the opposite end of the room where two other girls stood waiting, their faces lighting up at the sight of the male model she had managed to drag along with her.
“Come on [Y/n] dear, he’ll be back. Oh, there are some people we’d like you to meet. Have you met Kang Seulgi? She’s a very talented designer.” Jeonghan’s mom rambled on, guiding you towards an expectant looking crowd of people.
Shockingly (well, it was shocking to you), your attention is the one thing that the majority of the other guests seem to be after. Many of them gather around you and Jeonghan’s parents, hanging off every word you say and looking at you like you’re one of the most precious things they’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The topic of the evening is, of course, your relationship with Jeonghan.
"It's..." You search for him in the somewhat dark expanse of space, but you couldn't find him anywhere. He probably ran off somewhere with Joshua, no doubt.
Jeonghan had fucked you over. He’d brought you here just to abandon you. He made you feel special just so you’d make him look good in front of his parents. You felt like some kind of broken toy, so easily thrown to the side once he no longer wanted to play with you.
"I don't know. It's a lot of things. I'm happy though, you know? He's good to me." You smiled, the lie stinging your throat and burning your tongue. There was only so much more of all this attention you could take.
“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”
“Isn’t she just a dear?”
“She’s the sweetest! Don’t you just love her?”
And there it was; your breaking point. One of your hands flew over your mouth, keeping the pathetic sob from escaping. Concern flashed across the faces of the guests, and you apologized as best as you could as you pushed your way through the mass of bodies and out to the hallway. None of them followed you, probably still confused as to why you had even run away in the first place, but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.
Jeonghan’s friends loved you. The media loved you. His parents loved you. All these guests whose names you didn’t even know loved you. Everyone loved you but Jeonghan, so in the end none of it even mattered. He had no problem discarding you when you were no longer of use to him, like you were nothing, because he didn’t love you.
You finally cried. The regret, the guilt, it consumed you. You slid down to the floor, your face covered by your hands, crying on the floor like a child.
“[Y/n]?”
You could recognize Jeonghan’s voice in a heartbeat. He stared down at you, worry written all over his pretty face, but you gave him no response.
“Why are you crying?”
He knelt down beside you, trying to get you to at least look at him. You wiped away the last of your tears and sighed.
“I think we need to end this, Jeonghan.”
“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked that you said that. “[Y/n], we’re more popular than ever. That wasn’t the deal.”
You picked yourself up off of the floor, suddenly overcome with anger. "Is that seriously all you care about? How popular you are? What about me?”
His silence was painful.
“God, of course. I don’t even know why I bothered asking. You only care about yourself.”
“That’s not true. I care about you, [Y/n]. You know that.” Jeonghan frowned.
Under different circumstances you might’ve believed him, let him sway you with his sweet words and sad little expression.
“Do you? It feels like you only care about me when you want your dick sucked or when you want someone to clap for you.”
The look on his face changed in an instant. Jeonghan’s patience was wearing thin, you could tell, but there was a part of him that was holding back.
“If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you say anything? Why even agree to do this in the first place?”
The words came flying out before you could stop them. “Because I love you, Jeonghan! I’ve always loved you!”
A heavy silence enveloped the hallway. It was tense—suffocatingly so. You could hardly make out how his face changed once more in the low lighting that enveloped you.
“[Y/n]—”
“I’m not done!” You’re not sure when you started crying again, but you arely registered the wet droplets streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice the fact that I love you when it’s obvious the only person you love is yourself. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. I hate you.”
Your vision was blurred with your tears, but you could just barely make out the dejection painted on his face. It didn’t suit him. You hoped that he would say something, anything, but Jeonghan did nothing but stand there. You couldn’t do anything but laugh pitifully.
“I’m going home. Have fun at your party.”
“Wait, [Y/n], please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” He held onto your hand when you tried to walk away. You tried to get him to let go, but he wasn’t ready to let go.
“What else is there to say, Jeonghan? We’re over, now leave me alone. Why don’t you go ask Momo to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to.”
You snatched your hand out of his grasp, fooling yourself with the last bit of hope you had that maybe he would chase after you. He made you a promise, after all.
It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.
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You didn’t go into work on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. After you got home last night, you buried yourself beneath the covers of your bed, too exhausted to do anything other than lie there in the darkness until you fell asleep. When morning came, you couldn’t even muster up the strength to move, so you called Sakura and said that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to come in for the next few days.
Jeonghan had left you an unbelievable amount of texts and calls, none of which you bothered to respond to. Chaewon and Joshua also texted you to ask about the party and if you’d heard anything from Jeonghan; apparently no one had heard from him since the party. As if you’d know.
On Sunday, you’d managed to tear yourself away from your bed—for longer than a trip to the kitchen or the bathroom—and out onto the couch. A rerun episode of Jihyo’s talk show was playing on the TV, the one that featured you and Jeonghan. You watched with a heavy heart as the two of you walked hand in hand, smiling, waving to the studio audience.
How could you ever fall in love with him? He was just another self serving rich boy who used you for his own personal gain. It didn’t matter that he was charming or funny or cute or—
Fuck, even when you were mad at him you found it impossible to ignore the beating of your own heart when you remembered just how nice it felt to be with him, even if it was all just for show.
Someone was knocking. You sighed, not wanting to get up, but the knocking only grew louder and more urgent.
“Okay, I’m coming! Damn…” You shouted, lifting yourself from the couch and over to the door, frowning at the person standing on the other side.
Jeonghan’s state of being didn’t seem to be any better than yours. His eyes had bags under them, his hair was in desperate need of a brush, and he was still in his pajamas. Even so, he smiled weakly at the sight of you. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer. I’m happy to see you’re doing okay.”
You scoffed. “I’m not.” You missed the way his smile dropped at that. “What do you want?”
“I want to apologize to you.”
Shaking your head, you started to shut the door, almost closing it on Jeonghan’s arm in the process.
“Wait, please! I really mean it, just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be gone, I swear.”
There was no way you were in your right mind, because you actually let him in. He smiled and followed you to the couch, sitting at a distance to keep you from getting uncomfortable.
“I thought about what you said at the party. The stuff you said about me wasn’t wrong. I was being selfish. I did only care about my image. You had every right to be upset with me.”
“I’m still upset with you.”
“And that’s perfectly fine, but just hear me out,” His voice was frantic. “Those two weeks I didn’t talk to you were the worst two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you. I really missed you, [Y/n]. And the more I thought about you, the more I realized that I was falling in love. I’m so in love with you, [Y/n].”
You weren’t buying it. “You could’ve texted me. Or called. Or something.”
Jeonghan turned to face you, eyes flickering over your face. “I wanted to, and I should’ve, but…”
“…But what?”
His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.
“But what, Jeonghan?”
“But I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I thought it would overwhelm you. If you start to feel real feelings in a fake relationship, what are you supposed to do?” He sounded so…sad.
When the reality of his words finally sunk in, clarity followed. Jeonghan was in love with you. Jeonghan was scared that you would want things to be over. Jeonghan was worried about how you would react to him.
You breathed out a laugh.
“You’re such a dummy, Jeonghan. Why would I ever leave you?”
His sadness evaporated, now replaced with relief and joy and love. He pulled you into a hug and sighed happily when you returned it.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. My heart literally fucking broke when you cried because of me and my shitty attitude.”
“Oh, but I love your shitty attitude. Just not when it’s making me cry.”
“Good. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you. You felt giddy at the way his lips moved against yours, smiling into the kiss. He gently pushed you so you were lying on your back, breaking away to look down at you.
“My pretty girl…” He said again, voice sweeter than sugar, fingers trailing up your legs. They felt cold against your burning hot skin, and it made you shiver. “Gonna let me make you feel good like you deserve?”
“Yes, Hannie, please.”
Jeonghan groaned, pausing the movement of his fingers to bask in the sound of you begging for him. You had no idea what you did to him and it made his dick that much harder. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”
“Hurry up, your hands are cold,” You whined. His eyes flashed with mischief, pressing his fingers down into the flesh of your inner thigh, watching you shiver and moan.
“I don’t know, I think that you like it, am I right?”
“If you don’t hurry up and touch me, I’ll do it myself.” To prove your point, you slipped your shorts off and tossed them somewhere onto the floor. Jeonghan touched you before you could even think about sliding off your underwear, cupping your leaking cunt with his hand.
“The only one who gets to play with this pretty pussy is me, baby. Don’t ever forget it.” You moaned at how fast his demeanor seemed to change, nodding furiously as you tried to grind into his hand to relieve the ache he was making you feel.
Pouting and panting, you looked up at him. “Hannie, don’t be mean…”
He found it insane how he didn’t realize how whipped he was for you earlier. Like really, he was totally wrapped around your finger. This must’ve been how you felt for all those years.
“Whatever you want, baby,” He lifted your legs a little higher, situating himself so he was lying flat on his stomach, face only a few inches away from your cunt. He pushed your underwear to the side, gasping at the sight of how wet you were. “Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping.”
“Just for you.”
He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”
Jeonghan buried his face in between your legs, groaning when the taste of you hits his mouth. He’s making an even bigger mess of you, licking at you greedily and sloppily, drowning himself in the wetness between your thighs.
You’re moaning louder than you think you ever have in your life. Shaky fingers slide into his soft dark hair, gripping tightly. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already too caught up in you to register the little bit of pain. You grind into his face, staining the lower half of his face with your arousal.
“Hannie, fuck,” You manage to say despite your fucked out state. Jeonghan hums, and the sensation makes your thighs close around his head. If you could speak, you would apologize, but Jeonghan seems to grow impossibly more aroused by the act.
He slips two of his fingers inside of you, it’s easy given how wet you are and keep getting, while he occupies his tongue on your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, any and all coherent thoughts having escaped you in that moment. The only thing you could focus on was Jeonghan, his lips, and his fingers.
You could feel yourself getting close, a familiar feeling blooming in your stomach. Jeonghan could feel it too with the way you were tightening around his fingers and arching your back to stay as close to him as you can. He circles your clit with his tongue before starting to suck on it, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.
“You taste so good,” Jeonghan says, licking his lips clean of every last drop of you. He presses one last long, lingering kiss to your pussy before gathering the strength to pull away and wipe his mouth clean.
“We could’ve kept going.” The look you gave him was so innocent and sweet, a contrast to the way your legs were still spread open with your juices staining your inner thighs. You almost convinced him. Almost.
“Don’t look at me like that,” He spoke slowly and softly, as if he was in no rush to give you more despite the painfully obvious tent in his pants.
“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”
Jeonghan doesn’t want to keep you waiting, but he can’t help but tease you just a little bit more. He sheds his clothes with little urgency, and he smirks like the little cocky shit he is when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you could just devour him here and now. It’s like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again, astonished by the sight of him. He was just so pretty all over.
He slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, teasing your entrance until you were squirming. “Hannie, please,” you whined, steadying your hands on his shoulders. Clearly he was just as desperate as you were, because he pushed into with a groan no more than a moment later.
“So tight, baby, shit. Are you trying to make me cum already?”
His strokes are slow and deep, and you can feel every single inch of him inside of you as he drags himself all the way out before slamming back inside. Whenever you clench around him, he falters and lets himself moan something unintelligible about how good you feel or how pretty you are.
“F-Faster, Hannie, I want—” Jeonghan cut you off with a sloppy kiss, swallowing each and every one of your noises.
He cooed at you and shook his head with fake disapproval. “When did you get so demanding?” Your words turned into whimpers when he increased both the pace and the force of his thrusts, rendering your ability to speak useless. “You know I’ve got you baby, I know what you need.”
“Stop talking like that.” Your nails dragged down his back, streaking his unblemished skin with thin red lines.
“What are you gonna do if I don’t? You gonna cum and make a mess of yourself all over my cock, huh baby?”
You whimpered again, leaving Jeonghan to assume that he was correct and giving him yet another ego boost. With one hand, he pushed your shirt up to reveal your braless chest, kissing and sucking at the supple skin of your tits.
There was no way you weren’t going to be getting a noise complaint. The sounds coming from Jeonghan’s hips snapping against yours paired with the steady stream of sounds coming from both you and Jeonghan were sure to have them making a fuss. Not that any of that mattered at the moment, well, not to either of you.
His hand snakes between your bodies, rubbing feverishly at your abused bundle of nerves, whispering so sweetly into your ear the words “cum for me” which is all you needed before doing just that. Jeonghan watches your face as you cum, and he thinks that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now, letting yourself fall apart underneath him like this.
“I love you so much,” He says in between his strained grunts of pleasure. “So fucking much, baby.” Even after you had already cum, Jeonghan’s hips never once stopped moving against yours.
“I love you too, Hannie, fuck.” The overstimulation was starting to hit you, and you whimpered because of it.
“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”
His tip is bruising your sweet spot with each of his thrusts, making you squeeze around him impossibly tighter, and the feeling makes him so dizzy, reminding him of the fact that he is truly and utterly yours. “Want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Use your words and tell me.”
“Yes, yes, please, Hannie! Need your cum inside of me!” Your mouth and body are reacting on their own, saying and doing what they want as you feel yourself cum a second time. He doesn’t hold back anymore, the warm sensation of his cum being fucked deeper and deeper into you overtaking all of your senses, leaving you feeling fuzzy and lightheaded.
Jeonghan’s head rests on your chest, breathing in your scent and listening to the sound of your heart. He’s too lazy and too tired to pull out, but you don’t mind. “Can you be my girlfriend for real now?” Even as you work to catch your breath, he still manages to make you laugh.
“Hm, I don’t know, nobody was around to hear you say that, should we go find you an audience?” You tease, and Jeonghan whines loudly and shakes his head.
“In that case, yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
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donatellawritings · 22 days
Note
if requests(?) are open what do you think about bff!rafe whos absolutely down bad for reader ☺️
bff!rafe is honestly the most obsessive man ever and has no sense of boundaries ngl
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truth be told, you and rafe haven’t even known each other that long, barely a year, to be exact. when you had moved into the pretty little baby blue house that overlooked the busy docks and calm waters, rafe had just made his long overdue return to figure 8. you were fresh out of college, and as free as a baby bird — with a somewhat matured rafe who was patiently waiting on the perfect moment to swoop in and teach you to to fly — his way.
you see, rafe was the man of his family now, and as the leading man of the cameron lineage, he had no choice, but to become painfully aware of the damage he could cause. you shared the likeness of a baby deer — naive, dainty, and a little too welcoming … much to your own detriment, at times.
so, rafe took it upon himself to take you under his wing, making sure that he always had you in his line of vision. i mean, if he didn’t look out for you, who knows what kind of trouble you’d get into? which is exactly why he settled for being your best friend in the whole world, as you like to say — that is, until you’d finally snap out of the pink tinted dreamland you seemed to live in, and realize that you were better off just being his — being rafe’s girl.
“y’wanna try some?” you hummed, your manicured hand holding out the wand of your new tube of dior gloss as you mushed your swollen lips together, puckering your now shimmery lips in the mirror as you adored your new lipgloss.
met with silence, you rolled your eyes as rafe remained stood tall and authoritative behind you, his eyebrows furrowed as he fiddled with the collar of his polo shirt, “c’mon, kid — don’t have time to play games,” he shrugged his shoulders, before nudging the side of your jaw with the side of his ringed finger.
to anyone who wasn’t aware of your unique dynamic with rafe — the sight of a young girl dressed in nothing, but a mesh bralette that displayed her hard nipples and tiny silk shorts that sucked up into her ass, a bit bent over a vanity with a much taller man’s tented crotch ghosting right behind the curve of her ass, would be pretty incriminating.
but, in your eyes, it was just you and rafey, your very best friend in the entire world.
leaning back onto the balls of your sore feet, you completely missed the way rafe took in the ripple of your asscheeks as you let out an entitled huff, “i don’t want to go golfing,” you mumble, your arms crossed firmly across your swelled tits as you send rafe a bratty frown in the mirror.
mocking your bratty behavior with an exaggerated pout, rafe lets out a feigned whimper, “aw, baby doesn’t wanna hang out with rafey anymore?”
shoving the gloss-coated wand into the tube, you toss it onto the vanity, your bouncy blown-out hair whipping against rafe’s chest as you push your weak palm into rafe’s hard torso, earning another condescending laugh from the blue-eyed man, “i don’t want to hang out with you, anymore,” you announce, eyes glazed with frustrated tears.
“y’sure? got lots of pretty girls who would love for me to be their best friend,” rafe cocks his head to the side, a knowing smirk tugging on his pink lips as he watches you carefully think about your next words.
with a hesitant nod, you sniffle, “i’m sure.”
“okay — i’ll miss you, princess,”
your doe eyes widened with genuine concern as rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your hair, before taking a few steps backwards from you, turning to reach for the handle of your bedroom door. he can’t leave — you were only kidding!
“stop! i was just kidding,” you panic, perky tits bouncing as you rush over to rafe who is biting back a cocky grin.
forcing a solemn expression, rafe gently raised a ringed hand to hold your jaw, “can’t joke like that, huh? almost made me get a new best friend, pretty girl,” rafe twists the knife, his stomach growing warm and fluttery as he watches you lightly bounce on your feet, before accepting your outstretched arms as he carries you back to your pillow and squishmallow-covered bed.
“sleep over?” you questioned sweetly.
“of course, kid.”
。⋆୨୧˚
wet lip smacks and muffled moans filled the four walls of your bedroom as you laid semi-underneath a now shirtless rafe. one leg hooked over his hip as your hands cupped each side of his strained neck. your puffy lips were nearly raw and tingly from rafe’s constant suckling and nipping at your mouth. rafe’s hand kept a light grip on your throat as he kept you engrossed in the slippery kiss, tongues dancing together wildly as rafe fucked your mouth with his.
pushing out a sleepy whine, you said your delicate hand to rafe’s collarbone, gently pushing, “rafey — m’lips hurt,” your words were jumbled as rafe groaned into your mouth, his lips continuing their relentless assault.
your sloppy little makeout sessions with rafe were a common find when it came to spending a day with him, and you didn’t see anything wrong with it — i mean, he was your best friend forever, he would never steer you in the wrong direction.
shutting you up with a slip of his tongue inside of your mouth, rafe’s hand sliding to cup your cheek as you are quick to wraps your swollen lips around his slippery tongue, gently suckling the pink muscle. you continued sucking on his tongue for a few more minutes, your mixed spit shining on the corners of your mouths and messily smeared on your chins from wet lips.
sliding a calloused, ring-clad hand to cup your soft ass underneath the silk of your shorts, rafe patted two light slaps to your skin, earning a needy moan from you as your wrapped your slick lips around his tongue once more, in a sealing kiss, “sorry — y’taste good,” you mumbled, your sore lips pulled into a sorry little pout as rafe nods knowingly, gently pulling your head to lean against his chest.
rafe never missed the way you gazed up at him, your doll eyes sparkling with adoration and respect — you never judged him, and he appreciated that.
“s’okay, kid.” he responded, mushing your cherub cheeks as your lips remain in a silly smile.
you really had the bestest friend in the whole world!
2K notes · View notes
murdrdocs · 1 month
Text
venus fly
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description. the pollen that sprayed in LUKE CASTELLAN's face earlier this morning has some really weird effects. not that he's complaining.
a continuation of this drabble
includes. sex pollen SUGGESTIVE CONTENT 18+, accidental drugging, loser!luke, best friend!reader, demeter!reader, implied oral (f and m receiving), slightly perv!luke, aftercare almost nonexistent
wc: 4.5k+
a/n: the long awaited sex pollen fic. title from venus fly by grimes. no explicit smut ahead. artwork credit unknown.
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Your shirt is fitting you really well. 
Your lips are moving, you’re saying something to Luke, he assumes it’s likely at least a little bit important, but he can only focus on how well your shirt is fitting. 
Tight enough over your bust—Luke figures you’re wearing a sports bra for capture the flag today since he sees no bra lines, but the bra creates a nice shape for your tits, so he doesn’t need the lines to entertain him. 
“Did you get a new shirt?”
You stop whatever you were saying to look down at your chest. You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fix Luke with a look of disappointment. 
“Wha–? It’s an older one. All of my others were dirty.” Your bosom is covered, but Luke is still staring. It’s like he cannot peel his eyes away. Though, he hasn’t tried. At least, not until you scold him. 
“Will you stop ogling me while I’m trying to talk to you?” 
His reply is earnest. “Wait, shit, yeah. ‘m sorry I don't know what's going on…” 
You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted. Luke can’t help but fix his eyes there next. You’re wearing chapstick, or maybe lip gloss. Something that’s spreaded over your lips and creates a nice sheen that makes him want to lick it off like icing on a treat. 
“It’s okay …” Your words aren’t that convincing but you drop your arms and start speaking again. This time, Luke takes in at least a dozen words. 
Really, he should have known what was wrong with him. The same way he should have known that eventually, his insistent nosiness would come back to bite him in the rear. 
You’d always warned him of such, telling him that “it’s charming until it’s not”, when you would boot him out of the greenhouse. (Truthfully, Luke had codependency issues but if he never really admitted it to himself, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to you, either.)
You were spending more time in the greenhouse lately. Which has never been a problem for Luke. But your newest project, something completely unknown to Luke as it was apparently a Demeter kid only project, was taking away his time with you. You could barely spare a half hour to go by the lake. You traded chores with one of your siblings for more time in the greenhouse, leaving Luke to work with someone not nearly as entertaining as you. 
The only time he got to really see you was early in the morning and late at night. And if he was losing his time to something else—or, gods forbid, someone else—he wanted to know what it was. 
So right when you were leaving the greenhouse early that morning, Luke snuck in after you. He searched around, trying to find evidence of you anywhere, and when he did find it, he found his demise there, too.
Sitting next to your favorite pen was a potted plant. It resembled a venus fly trap, but immensely bigger. There were a cluster of them, some with large flowers growing out of the opened mouths. Luke stupidly had the urge to provoke the plant, driven by the desire to see them in action. 
He took your favorite pen, and gently stuck it inside of the mouth. 
When a puff of yellow smoke hit him square in the face, he hadn’t thought much of it. 
When he stumbled out of the greenhouse with a fog in his head and dizziness, he thought it to be a single side effect. 
When he started to feel warmer than usual, he thought it to be an effect of the insistent summer heat. 
It’s not until he’s waking up on the ground that he really begins to worry. 
His eyes open and he is immediately greeted with the sun attempting to blind him. He squints and raises a hand over his face, shielding both the sun and whoever stands over him. 
When they speak, he doesn’t need his eyes to tell who he is joined by. 
“Jesus, Castellan, if you didn’t scare the shit outta me just now I would be bragging about beating you.” 
Luke groans and rolls onto his side. He’s still wearing his battle armor over his clothes and he suddenly feels uncomfortable, like everything has been made wrong or maybe like he has outgrown them. His camp shirt is too tight against his body, pressing the sweat back into his skin and not allowing for any breathing room. His shorts feel awkward in the crotch, as do his briefs. And his shoes are suffocating his feet. 
There is nothing he wants more in this moment than to peel the armor and clothes off of his body and run down to the water. But he doesn’t know if the game has ended yet, nor does he know how long he has been out. 
There are many unanswered questions he has, but the first one he starts with is, “Why are you here?” 
He hears you scoff and knows you have rolled your eyes. 
“We were sparring and you just passed out. I wasn’t just going to leave you here.” 
He finally looks at you. His eyesight has readjusted to the light from the star above, so it stings just a bit less when he peers one eye open. 
You add on, “I didn’t know if you had spontaneously died or something! And now that I know you’re fine…” You bend down and grab your helmet, situating it back on your head and standing at attention over Luke. 
He needs to stand. The last thing he remembers is fighting you and he's never lost a fight to you. In his mind, he hasn’t surrendered, and you haven’t defeated him, so he needs to stand. 
He tries to, he really does, but his knees get weak and as soon as he’s up, his head spins and he’s right back down. 
You swear just before your knees are hitting the earth and you’re kneeling beside him. 
Luke can feel you pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, he can hear you asking him a few questions, he can see your wide eyes staring into his heavy ones, but he can’t respond. He can’t do anything but worry about the bile rising in his throat, or focus on the shining water just behind you. 
He doesn’t realize that he has begun moving until the bottom of his pants feel heavy with the weight of water. 
When he’s in to his thighs, he collapses and lets the ripples wash over his body. 
You don’t follow him until after him for a few moments, and when you do, you stand still at the shoreline. You let Luke soak the heat and sweat off of his skin as best as the circumstances allow, and you only speak to him once he’s standing right in front of you in soaked clothes and wet armor. 
“What’d you take?” 
At first, he’s not playing dumb. It just takes a moment for your words to plant in his mind. Then he plays dumb. 
“Take? I don’t know what you mean.”
You don’t entertain his ditziness and instead begin making your case. 
“You’re clearly on something, Luke. You’re sweating even though it’s as cool as it usually is. Your pupils are wide and your eyes go from restless to barely open. You keep fidgeting and every few minutes you twitch. And you’re standing here, talking to me, instead of helping the red team secure another win.” 
Luke hadn’t noticed most of his symptoms. It’s not like he can notice anything other than the thoughts in his mind, especially when they give him images of your tits bouncing in his face and audible hallucinations of what you would sound like moaning his name. 
He decides then and there that capture the flag doesn’t matter. Not when he has what he wants, the true glory, right in front of him. 
He heard you, he processed your words, but the sight of your lips distracts him once more and prevents him from instantly responding. He stares instead, watching your mouth through lazy blinks. 
He doesn’t even consider responding until you tut. 
“If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll go get Maria L to take care of you then.” 
Luke's eyes widen. Maria L is an excellent healer but she also has a pestering crush on Luke, one that encourages her to touch Luke with grazes that border on harassment and lack any professionalism. 
“No! Not her.” Luke would feel bad about his reaction to the girls name if he didn’t have such a one track mind. 
Your eyebrows raise to tell him to continue. He does so begrudgingly. 
He picks at his fingernails and his cuticles until dead skin peels back to reveal blood. But the sting on his thumb doesn’t compare to the dull pain residing in his groin. 
He knows that admitting the truth to you would open the possibility of criticism. His current … illness aside, you would never let him live down the day his nosiness actually reaped consequences. He briefly considers accepting defeat, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, and taking control of the growing boner on his own. 
He might be generally inexperienced in these situations, but even he knows that his own fist wouldn’t compare to even the slightest bit of attention from you. 
He opens his mouth. “I went in the greenhouse.” 
Your eyes widen as if Luke had confessed to committing a cardinal sin, and it’s then that Luke begins to really worry about himself.
“Did you …?” You don’t even have to finish your sentence before he nods. “Luke! You fucking-“
Not really in the mood for your chastising, Luke holds one hand up.  He is able to silence you for only a second before you’re slapping his hand away. You’re yelling at him, both for trying to rudely shut you up, and for doing the one thing you told him not to do. 
He sits and listens, waiting not-so-patiently for you to tire yourself out. He thought that point would come sooner than it does, but he’s sure that at least two minutes have passed and you’re showing no signs of stopping. 
He rolls his eyes, he furrows his eyebrows, and he tries to discreetly adjust the boner in his cargos, but according to you, Luke has never been discreet a day in his life. He has never believed in your so-called ability to see right through him until your eyes pointedly drift to his crotch with his hand still attached to it. 
Your insistent rambling ends unfinished. You blink, you don’t say anything. And then:
“Oh.”
At this point, he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. You fill the silence for him. 
“Oh, Luke. I told you not to go in there because …”
His eyebrows lift. “Because what?” 
You take a breath. “The plant, the Venus Fly, the pollen is an aphrodisiac.”
Luke knows what an aphrodisiac is, he isn’t dumb, but he still asks for clarification. And when you explain, he asks you to dumb it down. Even then, he blinks at you. Because you were right. His nosiness caused this. 
He’s considering pitying himself whenever you suggest the one proposed solution, the only solution the Demeter and Apollo kids have been workshopping together ever since acquiring the plant from another kid's quest. 
And when your solution comes, Luke determines that there is no way he could pity himself whenever he is in the position he’s been dreaming of for literal years.
He might not have envisioned this particular scenario, as his fantasies usually entailed the two of you alone in a bed not at Camp Half-Blood. But something about this makes him enjoy it more. Out in nature, in the open with many possibilities of being caught surrounding you both. His lips on yours, his lips surrounding yours, as he kisses you messily. 
There is something perverse about the idea of getting to fuck you out in the open, gods willing. He didn’t think it was something he would be into, but it’s all he can think about when he’s rutting against you. 
He breathes you in. “I’ve …” he takes a moment, rubbing his stiff cock against your crotch once more. He groans as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.” 
You hum, your hands fisting the part of the back of Luke’s shirt that isn’t covered by his armor. 
“Luke,” you start and your voice is already full of hesitance. Luke isn’t sure he wants to hear what you have to say, but he knows it would be wrong not to. He busies himself with kissing your neck and under your jaw. 
“It’s the pollen talking,” you tell him. “You’re not yourself. You’re basica-“ He bites down onto where he can feel your pulse thrumming under your skin. You gasp, loud and broken, before continuing. “You’re basically drugged.” 
Somewhere deep down Luke knows that there’s logic in your statement, there usually is logic in your statements, besides during those times where you would say whatever came to your mind in the late hours of the night. But he doesn’t care, logic be damned. 
He knows that he’s felt this way—or at least in the range of this way—for a while now. The pollen has just given him the confidence to act on his desires. 
While the pollen has given him confidence, it hasn’t given him experience. 
He sloppily kisses along your neck and jaw, not necessarily knowing what he’s doing but he knows he’s expected to suck at one point, so he does. He just wants to please. 
You don’t react much to his lips on your skin, so he lifts a hand and slides it under your shirt and armor. The chest piece doesn’t allow for much maneuvering and Luke frowns against your skin before he separates completely to pull the armor off himself. 
He knows the clasps on the metal as well as he knows clasps on his favorite pair of pants. Yet his hands fumble. Excitement and the effects of the pollen, he reasons. But his face becomes warm from something other than the two, something he would rather not fully acknowledge. Especially not when he’s about to get his dick wet in the warmth of the one person he’s wanted since he was old enough to actually understand sex. 
You ask Luke if he wants your help with your usual teasing tone, but Luke doesn’t take kindly to it. As soon as he has the chest piece off, he has your shirt following it, and then his lips are back on yours. 
If even possible, this kiss is heavier. Firmer. Meaner. 
He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he calls onto the one other time he’d made out with someone. He remembers how he had been instructed to use his tongue and lick into his partner's mouth (a boy from the Ares cabin who stopped coming to camp a year ago). He had been kind to Luke when he didn’t know what he was doing, but now Luke feels like he needs to prove himself. He wants to prove himself. He wants to impress you. 
What results is a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s messy, sloppy, and slobbery. 
Luke likes it that way. 
You pull away first. 
Not much has been done, but you look a mess. Your lips are coated in saliva, probably yours and Luke’s, and pride floods his chest. You look flushed, too, and Luke sincerely hopes he’ll be able to amplify the emotion on your face soon thereafter. 
“Slow down. Luke.” Your words are soft, gentle, and kind. Just like you. Just like your hands that card through his still-wet hair. 
He winces, and not from the way your fingers snag on a cluster of curls. Wrongly assuming the cause of his sound, you apologize and smooth the patch of hair down. Your hands instead slide down Luke’s shoulders and he tries not to frown at the change. 
“Sorry,” he admits. He gnaws on his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of yours, and finds himself continuing. “I haven’t really made out with anyone since …”
You nod, lips pulling up in the corners. “Theo?” Luke nods. “I know. We tell each other everything, remember?”
Not everything. 
No one else is privy to the dreams Luke has about you. He has never told you, or anyone else, about all of the times he would fist his cock and chant your name in the showers late at night. In fact, when you would ask what took him so long, he would make up a lie about taking advantage of the hot water and solitude. While it was only a white lie, it was a lie nonetheless. 
The innocent and naive look on your face as you accepted his lie by omission only made Luke’s cock harder. 
You’re staring up at him now with a look different enough, but his reaction is the same.  Your eyes hold interest, intrigue, a little bit of mischief, perhaps. You look sure of yourself, like you’ve done this and in this capacity multiple times before. But Luke knows about your experience, nearly the exact same as his save for a few details he wishes to erase. 
When you had dished on your sexual history, Luke felt jealousy stirring deep in his stomach. He had been with other people, a guy and a girl, but that was in hopes of getting his mind off of you. Meanwhile, you had been with other people out of personal interest and not self-deluded necessity. 
Either way, your experience is almost the same as Luke’s, and knowing so makes it easier for him to take the lead. 
He kisses you again but he tries to go slower. Everything in him screams for him to speed up, to take you how he pleased, but he breathes and pushes the thoughts aside. 
Taking it slow pays off when you work the armor off of Luke’s torso (without much difficulty at all), and then slide your hands under his orange shirt to rest your palms against his abs. The feeling of your skin against his is striking, even though the touch isn’t much at all. Pathetically, Luke is affected by the meaning more than the physicality. 
“What do you feel now?” You ask him after pulling away from his lips. 
Luke’s immediate reflex is to say “horny”. 
You roll your eyes and absentmindedly scratch your nails against his abs. When he keens, he figures he’s hornier than even he thought. 
“I mean other than that. Your skin is warm so I’m assuming you’re still nearing a fever, at least. Are you lightheaded? Nauseous? Anything?”
Luke feels like he’s been slapped in the face. You were asking about his symptoms like a healer. Like an Apollo kid. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were only touching him to gauge his temperature. Were you only doing this—kissing him—to keep his fever warded off? Did you even want this? 
Rationally, he knows that you would do anything to help him. You’re his best friend, after all. But he wants you to want this, otherwise it would mean nothing.  Otherwise, he wouldn’t even begin to hold a torch to your previous partners. He would be the one you laid with out of moral obligation and not interest. 
He hadn’t been feeling nauseous before, but his throat starts to construct as if preparing to trigger his gag reflex. 
He hasn’t responded and you’re looking at him inquisitively. 
“Nauseous,” he starts. “Hot. Horny. Are you only doing this to keep me from dying?” The question messily tumbles out without him noticing. 
You run your tongue over your teeth. “Yes. But there’s also personal benefits involved.” 
Usually, Luke could decipher your maze-like answers. But he’s so hot and worked up and lacking an immense amount of patience. 
“So you want to fuck me?” 
Luke doesn’t continue his work until you respond. 
“Yes, Luke. I want to fuck you.” 
He has your shirt over your head in less than a minute. The button on your shorts is undone 30 seconds after that. He has completely forgotten about your plea to go slower, but even if he did remember he wouldn’t be able to comply. 
He needs to feel you. All of you. Or else he might collapse then and there. 
His hands run over your shoulders and torso gratefully, only appearing as the opposite whenever he runs into your bra (a sports bra, as he had assumed). As soon as he has the straps pulled down, he latches his lips onto the newly revealed skin. 
Distantly, Luke thinks he would have liked to have been able to lay you back. He wants to see you laid out before him while you’re completely at his mercy. Luckily, he has learned to adapt. He has been dealt unfavorable cards in his life, and turned them into something worthy. He plans to do the same here and now. 
As he sinks to his knees, he pulls your shorts down with him. You don’t have to be told to step out of them, but as soon as you do, you’re looking down at Luke with your eyebrows raised. 
“Are you sure? I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m really sweaty.” 
Luke doesn’t pay any mind to your words. As you’re speaking, he already has his fingers forced under the elastic fabric of your panties. 
“I’m sure.” 
He pulls the fabric down. 
“You don’t have to.” 
“I want to.” 
He pulls your leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt straight to his face. 
He has never gotten this far with someone before, he has never even seen examples of what to do in this position. He could back out. He could set your leg back down and only get his dick wet. But you smell so good, and you’re practically glistening in the sun, and you’re staring down at him expectantly so Luke slowly leans forward, sticks his tongue out, and gets to work. 
By the time Luke feels even a bit satiated, the sun has started to descend to its destination below the horizon, creating a soft blue hue over the sky. 
You’re panting under him, your back and arms painted with dirt, just a bit smudged on your cheek and a few flecks of it strewn throughout your hair. Your stomach rises and falls with your breaths, drawing Luke’s attention to the fresh cum laying there. There’s some dried cum on your back, and just the smallest smudge at the corner of your lips. Luke doesn’t think much before he licks his thumb and wipes away the white crust from your mouth. 
He sits back on his haunches and sighs with his head tilted to the sky. His hands rest on his thighs with an exorbitant amount of self control, as he desperately wishes to wrap his fingers around his semi-erect cock and jerk himself to another orgasm. 
He thinks that most of the pollen has left his system by now, and at this point the desire he feels is natural. It’s the same desire he has felt for you for a while now, only amplified by the memory of what the real thing was like with you. It’s addicting. Luke truly cannot get enough, even though he has been out here with you for hours. Somewhere along the way, one of the teams won capture the flag. Luke wasn’t sure which one, but the triumphant yells in the distance alerted him of a victory. Somewhere between his third orgasm and your fourth, the conch for lunch blew off into the distance, but Luke had absolutely no concern for satisfying his physical hunger. He was too focused on the sight in front of him. 
When he brings his vision back down, you’re sitting with your legs pulled in your chest and your arms wrapped around your calves. 
“We should clean up and go have dinner,” you tell him, your voice weak and hoarse. 
Fear strikes Luke still. You’re avoiding his eyes, staring down at the dirt, and speaking in a soft voice. 
He shuffles closer to you, reaches out to touch you, and then he reconsiders. You take a deep breath, and Luke rests his hand on your elbow. 
“Okay. Are you okay? I know that was a lot.”
You look at him and Luke feels a bit better, because while your eyes are a bit distant, you don’t look upset. 
“I’ll be okay. ‘m just tired. But what about you, are you fine?” 
There is still that nagging in the back of his head, telling him to take you one more time, but his logical part knows that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knows that you’ve had enough. Which means he, too, has had enough. 
“I’m good.” He leans forward and presses a kiss into your hairline. He stands, pulls his boxers onto his lower half, and offers you his hand. “C’mon.” 
You let Luke help you redress and hold his hand as he leads you back to camp the back way. You two come out of the forest right by the showers, where Luke tells you to wait while he does his best to sneakily run back to the cabins. He grabs himself a change of clothes, then sneaks into the Demeter cabin where he does the same for you. 
He knows that he has just seen all of your intimate parts for hours on end, but holding your panties in his hand makes his ears redden. Blood threatens to rush down to his crotch but he fills his head with the most undesirable images until he reaches you. 
Two showers are started, you and Luke stand back to back, and Luke enters his shower. 
When the bathroom is covered in steam and you’ve both used the remnants of the hot water, you and Luke redress and reach the dining pavilion just in time for dinner. 
He falls into the routine of a caring counselor easily. He answers insistent questions about his previous whereabouts with a passing “I was sick” that earns just enough sympathy and stops the questions all together. A few times he looks across the way to see you already looking at him. Instead of dropping his eyes or teasing you with the slyest middle finger he could muster, he smiles at you just slyly enough to not raise suspicion. 
When offerings have been given, and Luke feels full in multiple ways, he finds you at the bonfire and sits with his leg flushed to yours. 
He had just begun to think that all of the pollen was out until you rested your hand on his knee and he felt a jump in his stomach. 
Goddamn it. 
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byuntrash101 · 2 months
Text
big bad wolf
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f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the owner of the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut
#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡
a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3
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“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.
The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.
“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”
“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.
“Really?” He questioned.
“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.
“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.
You raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.
“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.” 
It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.
“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”
Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears. 
All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.
“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.
“Yeah I get it.”
Silence settled.
“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.
A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.
“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.
“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…
“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.
“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again. 
***
Well maybe you couldn’t…
That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds. 
“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.
He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.
The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.
“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 
“Um, yeah a little bit I think” 
Lie. Big fat lie.
Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.
“Perfect! Let’s get started then” 
“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.
“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.
Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.
Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.
He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs. 
“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.
He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.
“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud. 
“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”
Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.
He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.
“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”
You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face. 
“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.
“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours. 
He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily. 
“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”
As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.
“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board. 
“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.
He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.
“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.
Thanks to Chris’ prepping,  the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho. 
Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.
“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.
“Ok” you huffed quietly.
You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared. 
“You… can move”
Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in. 
“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted. 
“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.
He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines. 
“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in. 
“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”
“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”
“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.
“Fuck I won’t last long baby”
“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there” 
Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.
“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg” 
“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath. 
You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you. 
“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew. 
“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.
“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.
“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it” 
“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”
It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.
“Yeah we should”
“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”
“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.
“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.
“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.
“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.
“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.
“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.
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a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3
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teeramoonlover · 6 months
Text
Knock, Knock
Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher
(NSFW)
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This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.
Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.
*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice
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“Hello?”
“Hello.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.
“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.
“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”
“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.
The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.
“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”
You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.
“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.
“Tell me, do you like scary movies?” 
“Uhh, yeah.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.
“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”
“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.  
“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”
“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.
The stranger hummed.
Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?
“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”
“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.” 
He chuckled darkly.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.
The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.
“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”
“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.
“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”
You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.
Shit. Wrong move.
You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.
“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”
“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”
You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.
“Knock. Knock.”
You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.
“Who’s there?”
You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.  
Double. Shit.
“Johnny.” 
You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much. 
“Johnny where?”
“Clever girl. Guess.”
You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.
“The backyard.”
“Wrong.”
You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor. 
He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.
“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”
“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”
“I want you…to ride me.”
You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you. 
“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.
“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.
Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.
“Where the fuck are you shithead.” 
“Behind you.”
You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.
His Ghostface leather mask to be exact. 
He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.
“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”
Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you. 
There’s two of them?!
You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you. 
The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.
You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head. 
A warning.
“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.
“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.
“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.
“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area. 
“So what? You gonna kill me?” 
“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.
You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.    
Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.
"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically. 
Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.
"What do you mean?" You shuddered.
In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.
"You know what I meant."
Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?
You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.
You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on. 
“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan. 
You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.
“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.
“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.
“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.
“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.
Without thinking, you nodded at his words.
Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them. 
"Lift your hips for me, baby." 
He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked. 
He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.
A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.
"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.
"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.
You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.
As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.
Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.
"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on. 
You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.
You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.
He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.
"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.
"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in. 
He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.
You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.
"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you. 
You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.
You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.
"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.
"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.
"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."
The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend 
"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"
"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."
"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"
"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!" 
They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.
You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you. 
Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.
"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.
"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.
Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.
The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.
You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.
"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.
"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.
As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.
"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.
"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot. 
"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you. 
As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.
"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.
"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."
You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly. 
This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.
Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.
“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot. 
You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls. 
He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.
His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.
You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.
The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.
“That’s my good girl.”
After you pass out…
“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.
“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.
“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.
Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.
And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.
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Text
Going to Victoria’s Secret with Percy Jackson…<3
“stay here” you said to your boyfriend. You stood in front of a child play area.
He shook his head wrapping his arms around you.
“Please Perce” you begged your boyfriend. You really didn’t want him with you when you enter Victoria’s Secret. You were fine with any other place, just not here…
“No…” he pouted squeezing his arms around your body
“please…” you asked with puppy eyes, a trick you had mastered.
Fine," he grumbled and let go of you. "Do you have everything you need in case of a monster attack?"
Yes, mother," you sighed at his protectiveness, "I have everything."
"Your dagger?" He questioned. " Your cellphone? What about-"
"Percy!" You interrupted him. "I'll be fine. We don't even have cellphones. You're only a couple of feet away from the entrance," you reminded him.
Ever since the war with Gaea, he's become way more overprotective in thoughts of losing you.
You thought it's adorable, but he could sometimes cross the line.
"You're right," Percy shook his head to himself. "You're a big girl."
You kissed his cheek, and then walked into Victoria Secret. You threw a quick look over your shoulder to make sure Percy isn't following.
He wasn't were you last saw him. He was with a little girl, helping her up a pair of steps that lead to the slide.
Your heart melted at the sight, he looked so cute with children. Your mind even wandered to the thought of Percy and you having kids one day, that little girl being your daughter.
You smiled to yourself, heading to the panties section. You chose a few pairs of panties, and then headed to the bras section.
You wanted to make this quick, you didn't want to make Percy wait long. You already knew what you were looking for.
"Uh, sir," you heard a female employee near you speak behind a rack of bras. "We need to ask you to leave. We're having complaints from other customers."
"I can't," you heard, this voice being much deeper and more masculine. "I'm here with my girlfriend."
"I'm sorry, sir, but until you have proof, we need to ask you to leave."
The people around you began to mutter, some pointing.
You almost laughed at the guy behind the rack of bras, thinking what type of pervert would come in here and claim he had a girlfriend when he clearly didn't. 15
Behind the rack, the figure rose to his feet, beet red.
You continued to think what a lunatic the guy is for spying on girls.
That was until the pervert turned out to be your boyfriend.
Percy sent you an bashful look. 41
You sighed. "Ma'am, he's… he's with me," you spoke, your face flushing red.
The employee nodded and left to fix the underwear close by, but she kept an eye on the two of you.
Percy wouldn't meet your eye.
"I told you to stay and wait," you scolded him.
"But I wanted to be with you, (y/n)."
You tried to muster some anger, but you couldn't. He only wanted to spend time and be with you. You began to think how sweet it was. You kissed your boyfriend, catching him by surprise.
You pulled away, looking at the selection of bras to choose.
Percy chose one, picked it up, and held it to his chest. "How about this one, (y/n)?" He asked, the bra he chose being blue with jewels decorating it - almost like seashells. "I would look hotter in this than you," he smirked. He slid his arms through the loops, looking down.
The employee near by looked ready to call security to escort both of you out.
"Percy!" You attempted to scold, but ended up in laughter.
He took off the bra and placed it back. Only this time, he chose an even larger sized bra. "This one fits much better," he felt himself as if he had boobs. "Yup, much better," he said as he smiled innocently at you.
There's nothing innocent in that smile.
The employee spoke to the mall security guard from a far distance, throwing glances in your direction.
"Uh… Perce," you began to place down the panties and bras you selected. "Put that back, we're leaving."
"Why?" He looked at you confused. "Aren't you buying these?"
"I was but not anymore," you said as he took off the bra. He followed your gaze and then understood what you meant.
"Come on." You laced your hand with his and started to take off running leaving behind your cute pantries you sadly didn’t buy.
“Hey!!” You heard from behind you, Percy took off in a sprint dragging you along to the bathroom and locking yourselves in a stall.
“Fuck. I love you…” Percy exclaims before kissing you, your mouths moving in perfect alignment. You guys were soulmates… your hands reached up each other’s shirt’s ,he pushed you against the wall before taking his hands out of your shirt and gripping your ass causing you to moan lightly, gifting him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. “Percy…” you grumbled in between kisses. “Yeah?” He replied in a haze.
“we forgot Annabeth at Cotton on Kids…”
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cythena · 4 months
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INVITE ONLY
❥ — ꒰ notes ꒱ megumi fushiguro x fem!reader, not really any warnings tbh, smut, college au, outdoor sex, he pulls out
❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ nobara took you to some illegal racing night and you catch the winner’s eye ; 1.5k words
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you didn’t mind hanging out with nobara. she told you about this underground bike racing scene she wanted to go to. it was a friday night, you’d needed something to relax you. so you dressed up. it wasn’t the most but it was certainly enough. you borrowed nobara’s knee high boots to pair with your miniskirt. you threw on a long sleeve too.
“you look so hot, y/n. i’d so take you home tonight,” nobara cheered.
you laughed and grabbed your phone. “maybe you should, cause i’d definitely let you.”
“maki is already outside, come on.”
the setting was not what you expected. it started outside a large warehouse. the huge doors were open on both sides. the designated spectators section was brightly lit with neon purple street lamps. the audience was full of drunk college kids. the asphalt was littered with shotgunned cans.
maki and nobara dragged you to the front. there you could see the line up of bikes. drivers leaned against theirs, all with one or two girls drooling over them. except one, who seemed to arrive just as you did.
he pulled up closest to you and your friends. his hands removed the black helmet from his head. upon removal, he shook his slightly flattened hair to where it stood back up naturally. his long lashes fluttered as he blinked.
he caught your attention as he kicked the kickstand. you were looking at something on nobara’s phone. he swung his leg over to stand up. that’s when a few girls appeared in front of him. his unamused eyes glanced around the group of them.
he crouched down to make some adjustments to his bike. you could see his name “fushiguro” spread across the back of his shoulders.
his bike was so pretty, you thought. it was gorgeous. the onyx material on the outside with shimmering dark blue accents matched his leather outfit. now that you got a good look at him, he was just a pretty.
looking at the timer, only about a minute remained until the race started. fushiguro ignored any questions directed toward him. he focused on sitting himself back on his bike. his head turned to you right before he secured his helmet on. you caught a glimpse of his green eyes before they disappeared under the black screen.
engines revved as the countdown began. at the buzzer and the drag of the checkered flag, in an instant that man was gone.
so you looked over to nobara, confused on what to do now. you couldn’t see the race anymore. so your friend pulled you over to a group of others. so it was just like a party until you could see the winners.
that familiar black and blue bike was the first to cross the finish line. he curved his bike towards the crowd. several others finished but only after he had the time to step off and walk over. walk to where he stopped right in front of you.
he took off his helmet again and tucked it under his arm.
“what’s your name?” he asked.
“y/n.”
“fushiguro.”
“your bike is pretty,” you said trying to avoid any silence. you moved your head to see it over his shoulder.
“wanna ride it?” he didn’t break eye contact. you did when you looked over to maki and nobara. maki nodded and waved her phone.
megumi unzipped his jacket as you stood in front of his bike. he draped the leather over your shoulders now.
“gets cold, ‘n wear this too.” he held his helmet over your head.
“but you-”
he stopped you. “i’ll be fine.” he secured the helmet to your head now before lifting his leg over the seat. he turned his head over his shoulder. you placed a hand on the back seat for balance.
once seated, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. he pulled them tighter around his stomach. you felt every dip of his defined muscles underneath his shirt.
he revved his engine and broke the low hum from the engine. his hands twisted the throttle once more. he squeezes your hand briefly. the bike surges forward down the track. wind blew at your face and uncovered skin. it wasn’t painful, just cold.
the road traveled through a forest for a short moment. megumi took a turn off the path. he brought you to a clearing with a view of the tokyo skyline. his engine faded to the quiet hum instead of the loud roar that ripped through the silence before shutting off.
he helped you take off his helmet. his hand fixed your hair disrupted by the pressure. he was the first to get off and walk around.
“so, you always take a girl on a ride after a win?” you prompted.
“don’t know, you’re the first.”
you placed a hand on your chest. he towered over you as he stared at the city. “lucky me then,” you smiled. “so what’s your plan now, fushiguro?”
his thumbs wiped at his lips as he looked at you. a dangerous glint hit his green eyes.
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megumi wasn’t worried about his bike at the moment. he couldn’t focus on anything else except the way your ass jiggled with every slap of his skin to yours. he yanked your tight miniskirt to where it was hidden underneath his jacket.
his jacket with his name.
his palm spread against your cheek, fitting perfectly. his other hand cupped your chin and pulled your head back. your nails scratched against the leather.
“f-fushiguro!”
“megumi. m-my name’s megumi- oh fuck,” he hissed. he pulled your back against his solid chest. your heart rate quickened. your head fell against his shoulder as you looked into his almost feral eyes. “not what you expected, huh? never seen you before. your first time here, dressed so fucking slutty. couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
you moaned in response. he pressed his lips against your neck. your mind drifted to how your friends would respond to the love bites he was obviously leaving. you didn’t care as you reached around and tangled your hand in his hair.
“megumi, i- mhm~”
you sounded so pretty for him. you looked just as gorgeous too. he loved hearing his name fall from your lips as his thumb smeared your lipstick and tears your mascara. he wanted to make you sob for him like this all the time.
“you’re real fucking pretty, love fucking you dumb.” you cried out his name again. he licked the marks he left on your skin. “ha, can’t even respond. that’s fine, just keep squeezing me.”
and you listened well. your cunt clenched around him. “please megumi! i can’t!
he could see your nails scraping the seat, leaving white marks. he loved it. he loved seeing the way he made you and he wanted to keep them there forever.
“your slutty hole gonna cum for me?” he laughed. his hand fondled your tits quickly before going back down to play with your clit. you nodded as much as you could as he pinned you against him by the neck.
you were so close now. you felt megumi’s cock and hands pulling the cord to your release. he continued driving against your sensitive walls. you felt every vein on him deep inside your core.
your nails started to dig in scalp now. “oh megumi! t-thank you! ‘m gonna cum!” megumi pressed a hard and sloppy kiss against your lips. your eyes rolled into the back of your head. your hole tightened around him. you squealed as he pulled away.
he grunted against your skin. you felt so unbelievably tight around him. your hand fell limp and out of his hair. you were close to giving out so he supported your weight — treating you like his own fleshlight.
he pushed against your ass to pull out. he bent you over completely on his bike. megumi groaned at the cold air hitting him. quickly, he worked his own cock until thick strings of cum spurted out onto your skin.
“i’ll take you home,” he said, fixing your skirt. “can i get your number before we go?”
you looked back up at him. “yeah.” he already had his phone out of pocket to give to you.
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you were a little embarrassed from how loud megumi’s bike was. it was early in the morning when you got home. he hopped off and helped you. he walked you to your door without turning off the engine.
you almost forgot about his jacket. you started to slide one arm off but he stopped you. “can i see you again?”
you nodded, “yeah.”
he slid the sleeve back over you. you managed to put in the code to open the door with your shaky hands. “keep it. goodnight y/n.”
nobara wasn’t as calm as maki when the biker dropped you off back at your apartment. especially not when you walked in with your makeup so displaced. she practically jumped you.
her heart stopped beating when she noticed the jacket. “oh my god that’s his jacket! maki! look! he gave her the jacket!”
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— © cythena 2023. do not share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.
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suga-kookiemonster · 1 month
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ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)
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summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral
a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜
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When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.
Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.
You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.
“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”
Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).
“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”
“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”
Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?
An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”
“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.
“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”
“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”
“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.
The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.
“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.
He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.
The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.
“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”
Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”
“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”
“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”
“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”
He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 
“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.
“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”
“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.
Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.
Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”
“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”
“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.
“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.
Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”
“Soccer game?” you ask.
“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”
To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.
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vixensbrainrotts · 4 months
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TR men reacting to little kids wooing you
Content: reactions
Tropes: established relationship
Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)
Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?
Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!
(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)
Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.
(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)
Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.
(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)
Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.
(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)
The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.
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headkiss · 11 months
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you’ll always know me
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part 1, part 2
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.
word count: 8.6k
warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!
a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!
♫♩♪♬
It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.
To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.
Closer than anyone ever would, still.
To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.
You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.
Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.
(“Hello?”
“I can’t get this line to sound right.”
“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)
You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.
Because you do. You miss him so much.
A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.
There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.
‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’
You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.
You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.
Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.
Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.
Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.
-
Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.
Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.
He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.
Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.
At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.
Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.
He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.
He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.
Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.
“Munson! You’re on in five!”
He’ll call you later, then.
-
“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”
The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.
He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.
It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.
His hands clench into fits in his lap.
As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.
Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.
The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.
After all, it was home.
Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.
Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.
Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”
He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”
“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”
“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”
“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”
“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.
He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.
He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.
“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”
“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”
Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.
Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.
By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.
He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.
In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.
“Thanks.”
He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.
In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.
“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.
They both know he means you.
“How’s she doing?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”
“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”
“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”
Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.
“She misses you,” Wayne adds.
“She tell you that?”
“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”
Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.
Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.
“I miss her, too.”
“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”
“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was still fuckin’ funny.”
“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”
Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.
In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.
Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.
He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.
-
Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.
Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.
You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.
“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.
You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”
He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”
Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.
You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”
His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”
And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.
You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.
“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.
“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.
“Eddie!”
“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”
Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.
Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.
“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”
“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”
“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”
“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”
You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”
He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.
Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.
“You working late?” He asks.
“Until we close.”
“Care for some company?”
You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”
“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”
It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.
It’s all better than not having him at all.
“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”
“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.
“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”
He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”
You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”
Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.
He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.
He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.
“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”
“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”
-
The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.
Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.
Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.
The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.
You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.
On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.
He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.
It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.
After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”
“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.
When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”
You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.
“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”
Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.
You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.
Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.
He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.
When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.
Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.
The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.
Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.
Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.
“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.
She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.
“‘Course I am.”
“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”
He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”
“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”
He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.
“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.
“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”
It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.
It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.
-
You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.
“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.
They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.
“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”
“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”
“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”
Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.
Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”
You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.
“Look who I brought,” You announce.
Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”
“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.
It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.
All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.
“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.
“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.
“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.
“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”
And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.
You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.
He plops down beside you.
“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.
Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”
“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.
“You could definitely say that.”
Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.
He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.
Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”
The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.
It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.
You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.
When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”
His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”
And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.
Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”
You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.
Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?
You laugh awkwardly, “what?”
“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.
“Me and Eddie?”
He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.
“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”
You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”
“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.
Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.
Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.
Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.
He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.
-
It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.
Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.
There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.
Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.
“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.
You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.
“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.
“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”
He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”
“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”
“Getting cheap, trouble?”
You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.
It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.
Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”
“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.
His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.
“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”
“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”
Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.
“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”
“You’re still my loser.”
How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.
“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.
You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”
Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.
“I miss you, too, trouble.”
Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.
“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“
“I think about you a lot, honey.”
Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.
Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.
“You do?”
“All the time. You’re my best friend.”
Right. Friend.
“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”
And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.
Against all odds, he does.
Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.
He’s kissing you.
It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.
It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.
When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.
“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.
“Was it okay?”
“More than okay.”
You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.
-
Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.
You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.
Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.
Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.
He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.
The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.
Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.
Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.
You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”
Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.
You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.
So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.
“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”
“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”
“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”
“I mean right now.”
You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.
He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.
“Did you have a show today?”
You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.
“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”
“Nervous or excited?”
It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”
“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”
“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”
He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”
“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”
“You asked!”
“You answered the question wrong, honey.”
There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.
“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”
“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”
“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”
“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”
“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”
Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.
Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.
Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.
“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.
“Hm?” He hums sleepily.
“I lost you for a second there.”
If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”
“You wanna hang up?”
“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”
You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”
And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.
Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.
There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.
The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.
-
The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.
You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.
That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.
They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.
“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”
You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.
Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.
If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.
Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.
“Eddie?”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”
“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”
Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.
“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.
“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”
“You do not.”
“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”
“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”
Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.
“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me, too.”
“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”
They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.
“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”
“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”
Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.
“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”
It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.
“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”
“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”
Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”
“You don’t?”
He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.
“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”
No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.
He’s so, so fucked.
“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”
You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.
“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.
“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”
“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”
“Yeah, I did.”
And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.
Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
-
After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.
But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.
He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.
What the hell is wrong with him?
Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.
“What?” He pauses in the doorway.
“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.
“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.
“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.
“I do not sound like that.”
“You kinda do,” Jeff says.
“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”
Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.
These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.
Yeah, he’s so fucked.
♫♩♪♬
thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!
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disneyprincemuke · 5 months
Text
count on us * fem!driver
she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing
notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.
he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.
he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.
in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.
“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.
until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”
“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”
“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”
max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”
“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.
he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.
he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.
not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.
not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.
which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.
he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.
the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”
“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”
“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”
“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”
she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”
“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”
she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”
sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”
“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”
he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”
“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.
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oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”
sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”
“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”
“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”
“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”
“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”
“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”
“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”
“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”
“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”
“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”
“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”
“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”
“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”
oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”
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“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.
the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.
“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.
“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“
oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”
she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”
logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”
“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”
“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”
“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”
“oh, mine too.”
“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”
the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.
so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”
“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.
“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”
“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.
“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”
“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”
“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”
“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”
she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.
oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”
“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”
“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”
“really? what tiktok did i send last?”
“that one edit about that banana cat!”
“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”
“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”
“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”
she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”
“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”
“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”
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she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.
“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.
the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?
“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”
“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.
“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”
“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.
they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.
that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.
“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.
max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”
“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”
“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”
she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”
max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”
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yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.
“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”
“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.
“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.
he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.
“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”
there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”
yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.
when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”
so he smiles back. “hi.”
and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.
he never actually expected to be the one who find out.
“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”
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“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”
she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.
“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”
“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”
“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”
“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”
“i-“
“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”
“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”
tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.
initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.
suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.
her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.
“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”
she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”
she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”
“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.
“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”
she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.
“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”
oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”
“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”
she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”
max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”
“i know, but-“
“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”
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“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.
“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”
“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”
“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”
“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”
“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”
“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”
“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.
he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.
“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”
“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.
“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”
he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”
“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”
“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”
max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”
“like how?”
“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”
“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”
“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.
“oscar-“
logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.
“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.
“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”
“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”
“say bet?”
“bet.”
“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”
“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”
“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”
max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”
“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”
“fine, but-“
“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”
“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”
“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”
“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”
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she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”
“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.
“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”
“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”
she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”
“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”
“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”
“maybe let’s not go that far.”
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