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princessbrunette · 3 months

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CRUSH ♡

… based loosely on the song crush by ethel cain ⊹˚. ♡

pairing: linecook!jj maybank + sweetheart!reader

synopsis: you’re head over heels for your bad-boy coworker, jj— the linecook for the outerbanks beachside restaurant you waitress at. a customer spilling coffee over your uniform catalysts a chain of events.

cw: a gun but no violence, shitty customers, jj being jj, smut.

You didn’t really know about restaurant employee culture until you started your job as a waitress. Stereotypes, things that fate would just simply decide to come true in every single restaurant no matter what. Waitresses were either the sweetest people you’d ever met or the bitchiest, managers had favourites and if you weren’t one of them they treat you like shit, the kid who gets stuck on dishwasher duty was always younger than everyone and fell in love with all the waitresses— uber specific and odd stuff. Oh, and that linecooks were troubled, or whores.

JJ Maybank was more troubled than the latter. Well, you’d hoped so anyways. You’d had a crush on the blonde linecook from your very first day, a quieter morning at the beginning of spring when the beachside restaurant was criminally understaffed. Your manager had appointed him to show you around before either of you had even made it inside, the tough older woman calling him out as he arrived to work, climbing off his bike, chewing on a toothpick with headphones over his ears. Your heart had fluttered when he bantered with the older woman, pointing to the music-playing-muffs over his ears, mouthing an ‘I can’t hear you, sorry’ when she’d approached him.

You’d felt embarrassed almost, like you were taking up his time. He was clearly comfortable here, had a good relationship with everybody— even the manager who seemed to hate the world tenfold. She’d yanked off his headphones and jut her thumb towards you as he stared her down with a mischievous grin.

“Maybank, I need you to show around the newbie— uh, what’s your name again sweetheart?” She spins to you, and for the first time JJ’s eyes flicker towards you, brows jumping up just a hair, a micro-expression that only you could hold onto for hope. Hope that he might be a little interested. You speak your name, and he’s swerving around the manager in his white tshirt, apron tied lazily around his waist, hung down, not even wearing it over his shirt like he’s meant to, black backwards cap over blonde messy hair.

“Well it is very nice to meet you ma’am.” He juts out a hand with a stupidly large grin that makes you feel even more shy.

You remember that day so clearly, the blonde showing you the ropes, practically training you whilst your manager chain smoked out the back. You remembered how you hadn’t had a proper school-girl style crush like this since forever, and one day into working at the restaurant you were already head over heels for the loud and hyperactive Pogue.

A few months down the line, and your bond had blossomed. Well, somewhat — it was a busy restaurant, lots of waitresses and cooks and customers. There wasn’t always time for chit-chat and flirting. Which sometimes you were grateful for, plates clanking awkwardly in your hands as you spot a more confident waitress trying her luck with him, hair twirled around a long finger. You were delusional enough to believe JJ seemed politely disinterested at the least, choosing to busy himself with ruffling the top of your head with his knuckles as you pass by him, hiding your smile at his acknowledgment.

You wouldn’t say the two of you were friends. You’d hoped not anyway, dreading being stuck in the friendzone with the guy you’d spent months pining after. You couldn’t be friends because you’d never hung out with him outside of work, not that you’d deny him but he’d never asked. You’d seen him around, don’t get it twisted — that group of friends of his; the brunette one who always seemed to be the talk of the town, the darker skinned boy who seemed too smart to be slumming it on a boat smoking weed, and a girl — who laughed at all of JJ’s jokes and threw glares to anyone she deemed too ‘Kook-y’. That was some serious intel, but you swear up and down you weren’t a stalker— just paying attention when you’d see him outside of the workplace.

JJ made it clear you were his favourite waitress. Well, he’d said it himself, holding a plate just out of your reach when you’d come to collect an order, playful smirk on his face as he stares down at you. “Can I have my order?” you pretend to hate it, hiding your smile as you huff, reaching out.

“I dunno, I could almost swear there’s a magic word that you’re missing there, girlie. Y’wanna help me out with that? Orrrr…” He tilts his head, playing dumb and you let the smile free— cheeks pushing up as you gaze at his stupid expression.

“Please, JJ.” You offer sweetly instead of sassing him, which makes his heart clench a little because you were just an absolute sweetheart by nature. He lowers the plate, hovering it above your palm and giving you a more serious look.

“Plates hot, alright? Better be careful with those delicate mittens.” You roll your eyes bashfully and he presses it into your palm. The plate was warm at best, it seeming that JJ would say anything just to keep the conversation going longer than it needed to.

“Thank you.” You smile once it was in your hand and he nods, faux solemnly as he backs off back to his work station, ignoring the knowing stare from his partner linecook.

“So polite, s’why you’re my favourite, princess.” He points with a wink and you turn away before he can see how flustered it made you. Princess, are you kidding me? It’s like he wanted to make you drop the plate. He watches the door swing as you head back out into the bustling restaurant, and jumps a little in surprise when he turns back to come face to face with another linecooks smirk.

“Playin’ favourites, huh Maybank?”

The blonde itches his cheek, bashful with a shrug— going back to chopping a carrot like he was before.

“Yeah well— doesn’t everyone do that here?” He tries to brush it off, head swivelling to glance back at the door, just incase you overheard.

“Yeah… yeah, chose a pretty one though, I’ll give you that. Lemme know when you’re done with it, I wanna play.” He speaks with a stomach-turning smile, and certainly doesn’t miss the way JJ’s jaw clenches, knife nearly going not only through the carrot but the chopping board too. Dont cause a scene now, Jayj.

JJ was troubled, like you’d said. You’d heard whispers from waitresses or friends of a friend outside of work — things about his father always being in jail, the blonde himself ending up in overnight cells a series of times. You’d heard about fights, his name always ringing close to the scene, even car chases and rumours about his run ins with big time criminals— but you wasn’t sure how verifiable any of these were.

It didn’t seem totally far fetched though, the Pogue occasionally showing up to his shift with his head down, a new bruise splattered on his cheek bone or a gnarly gash. He had one the day things changed, a cut through his lip, gone almost black from blood constantly drying after he’d assumably lick it open. From a glance, it almost looked like a lip-ring, and he sported it well with a large greenish yellow bruise beside his eye over his temple. You wish you felt close enough to ask where they came from, but knew that would be prying. You didn’t even wanna listen in when you’d see the manager nod him into her office to give him ‘the talk’ and ask about it presumably, which you’d also guessed she’d gained no information from as he’d leave her office looking casual whilst she still wore that slightly frustrated and worried look on her face.

Everyone seemed to be in a weird mood that day, even the customers. It wasn’t really his fault, the man somehow backing into you abruptly enough for you to spill an old container of coffee all down yourself. Well, to rephrase — it was an accident, which was actually the best case scenario considering you’d had drinks poured down you on purpose for making them wrong before.

You get that awful coil of embarrassment in your stomach when you walk into the kitchen, beige staining right through your usual pristine uniform and falling in droplets off the ends of your hair. JJ sees the pout before the stains, and it comes as no surprise to the other linecooks when he rushes over like prince charming.

“You good? Someone do that to you?” He’s already trying to bound past you to go and ‘handle the situation’ (AKA, kick them out) but you shake your head— not really upset just tired, and now cold thanks to the old coffee soaking through to your skin.

“It was an accident. I don’t have anything to change into so I don’t know if I should just… go home, or something.” You hold your hands out in frustration, looking down at yourself.

“Oh, nah— don’t sweat it. Got a spare shirt in my locker you can wear. S’just a white t-shirt, should do the trick.” He steps backwards.

“But it’s not uniform?” You furrow your brows and he huffs out a chuckle at you always being such a stickler for following the rules. “Our manager will have my head, surely.”

“Think she’d rather that than you walkin’ round smellin’ like cold brew.” He fishes through his pockets and tosses you a small key with a red triangle keychain on the end, the key to his locker in the staff cloakroom. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks Jayj.” You smile, excusing yourself shyly at the use of the nickname you’ve heard others use on him but always chickened out on. He noticed, because he shows all his teeth when he smiles and nods, turning back around.

The cloakroom always smells weird— like mulch and rubber, a cold and windowless room with a bench and a wall of seafoam lockers. You flip the key in your hand, spotting the number on the back and match it to the lockers. Wearing JJ’s shirt, huh — you smile to yourself, feeling giddy and stupid at the butterflies that brush their wings against the inside of your stomach. He was just doing you a favour, sure — but you got to prance around wearing him all day, and that was enough to fuel your delusion. You off your stained shirt, leaving you in just a small and flimsy tank top that you usually wear beneath it incase of accidents like this.

You open the locker, and something black immediately drops out onto the floor, echoing loudly and bouncing once a tiny bit by your feet. The weird clinical lighting of the cloakroom casts a dark shadow below where your head searches down for it, so you move slightly— brows furrowing when you see the shape of it.

Your brain clearly hasn’t processed or caught up with just quite what you’re looking at as you bend down, lips parted as you pick the item up in your hand, standing back to full height once more. In your hand, you stared directly at a gun. A pistol, to be precise. You seem to be in shock, the weapon glued to your hand despite anyone being able to walk in and get you fired and or reported to the police within a matter of seconds. You turn the weapon in your hand in fascination, whispering a “What the…” to yourself.

JJ leans against the doorway with a forearm, just now remembering what resided in that very locker other than the shirt he so generously offered. He’s distracted for a moment by your skin, the skin on the back of your arms and your back as you stand with your uniform shirt bunched in your hand, until of course he spots what’s held in your other hand and physically winces.

“Shit, uh—” JJ vocalises and your head snaps around, sighing in relief once you see that it’s just him. You’re back to marvelling in shock at the item in an instant, ogling between him and the weapon. “So, that’s — that’s not what it looks like—”

“A gun?” You whisper the second word, looking up at him with wide eyes and he points the pistol downwards with his finger when you hold it accidentally facing him.

“Well, okay I mean yes — it’s a gun, but I had no choice. Had to momentarily keep it here, alright? I took it in for a friend and —”

“What are you, some kind of hitman?” You shake your head, earrings jangling a little with your stressed little gesture which would usually warm his heart if he wasn’t focused on deescalating.

“Okay, first of all— why don’t I take this from you missy,” He eases the gun out of your hands and accidentally fumbles it inside his locker, the weapon clattering against the echoey walls making him let out a quiet ‘whoops’ before placing a black gym bag on top of it. He turns to you. “Secondly, no okay I’m not a hitman— I haven’t ever shot a person with this thing.”

“Then… why do you have it?” You furrow your brows, seeming to have calmed down a little, which was relieving despite your reaction being totally valid.

“W—you know, gotta stay strapped. Protect my people.” He shrugs, attempting nonchalance and your eye twitches, realising how different the two of you are. JJ, bad boy with a gun in his locker— and you, straight arrow waitress. “Look all m’saying is if you told me someone was messing with you… I wouldn’t hesitate.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, wondering what on Earth he was going through to lead him to owning a gun, but you daren’t ask— even now. You eye him, brows knitting cutely.

“And you’re sure you’re not some serial killer?” You ask, folding your arms. Mostly joking. Mostly.

“Yeah nah I couldn’t do the whole choppin’ up dead bodies thing, m’pretty squeamish n’I got this thing with my gag reflex where y’know, I — I just—” He gestures to his throat, head bobbing with a preemptive gag but sees the way you’re staring at him like he’d just stepped off a space ship from Mars and decides against the bit, clearing his throat and glancing into his locker. “Enough of that uh— why don’t I go ahead and grab you that shirt you were after…” He reaches inside his locker, pulling out balled up white shirt, quickly turning it back from being inside out.

“There y’go…” He murmurs as he does so to no one in particular before shoving his arms inside and pulling the head hole wider before stuffing you inside it, tugging it until your head pops out, still staring at him a little dumbfounded. “Peekaboo.” He smiles nervously before leaving you to shove your own arm holes through, pulling it down over your tank top. He awkwardly watches before you hand him back his key and he locks his locker once more, glancing around at you.

“So about the—”

“Your secrets safe with me JJ. Thanks for the shirt.”

You swan around in the white fabric like it’s a ball gown for the rest of the day. Delusional didn’t feel like the right word, no— he gave you the shirt, which in your head is flirting— handing you the opportunity to daydream about being his girlfriend and wearing his clothes all the time. Each time you moved you could smell him on you, that faint smell of cigarettes and just him — reminding you of the times you’ve caught him on a rough shift fumbling for a pack of Marlboro Red’s and heading out the back door to be angsty for a while before returning with a plastered on smile. You bite your lip, staring into space as you rub the material between your fingers, waiting for a table to flag you down, excited for the next time you could go into the kitchen and see him… have him see you, wearing his shirt only hoping it hot-wires his brain with some sort of romantic association. Oh, JJ Maybank. He just made you so… so…

“Ugh, mmph JJ!” You cry out, later that night. Guilty, you ended up in nothing but the t-shirt and two fingers stuffed into your weeping cunt. You felt kind of perverse, despite the million promises to yourself to wash the shirt immediately after to return to him— but also there was just something painfully arousing about touching yourself wearing it— every layer beneath it removed to have your hardened nipples peak beneath the thin white fabric, tousled and jostled up where your ribcage was as you grind your digits inside of you.

You were home alone, like usual — which gave you the perfect opportunity to moan his name. Too horny to care about the 0.05% chance he’s strolling in your area and walking past the window, hearing. Even the idea of that aroused you further in the moment, wondering just what he’d think if he knew the sweet and harmless waitress was defiling her cunt in his name, in his shirt. You think about best case scenario, the blonde with his rough hand around his cock— and you knew it was rough from the way it felt when he’d touch your arm or brush against your fingers when handing you a dish. Rough from working on his bike and handling hot food and other Maybank shenanigans that still lead him to fist at his dick in his room at night thinking of you, you and only you.

You cum in your palm and feel disgraced. Poor JJ. You’re a total pervert and you must wash that shirt.

Except you don’t, and you fall asleep— returning to work in your spare uniform the next day. Empty handed. JJ doesn’t notice, hell — he doesn’t care. He’s stacked up with so many orders you almost feel bad even though it’s not your fault. Maybe you’re still riding off the guilt of masturbating in his shirt. There’s a sick sense of pride that twists in your gut when you look at him though. Boyish, sometimes thoughtless blonde with no idea that you came so hard moaning his name just a matter of hours before facing him again. You catch him in a quieter moment, leaning over to his station with a stressed expression to tell him that you forgot to bring his shirt back, to which he just responds with a shrug and a careless wave that read as ‘It’s cool.’ That was the JJ you knew. Cool, calm, didn’t give a shit. You got butterflies at the minute gesture. God, get a grip.

The next time it comes up, it’s because he brings it up. Catching you on your break, a cheekful of pasta he’d made for you to quickly cram down before your manager gets onto you for slacking off— JJ approaches your little table outside, blonde hair feathery and light in the sun. “Howdy there, shirt thief.” He grins lightheartedly, pulling out the other chair on the small circle table you sat at and straddling it backwards, leaning his arms on the backrest.

You nearly choke on your pasta at the speed you go to explain yourself— way to not make yourself seem guilty. “It’s in the washing machine, I literally just kept forgetting I’m sorry JJ.” You look all sweet and worried in the way that makes him wanna pinch your cheeks, so he fiddles with his lighter instead, flicking it on and off in his grasp.

“Nah you’re good.” He chuckles, staring out at the water the restaurant overlooked. It was a windier day, and even from where you sat you could hear the loud roaring of distant waves. “Hey uh— you want a ride home on the old bike? I can come in and grab it if like— if that’s cool.” He suggests, almost seeming a bit hesitant, nervous even.

“Oh! Yeah, I mean I’d have to stick it in the dryer first but you’re free to hang out whilst it dries… unless you really gotta go then, you can have your shirt back damp, I guess.” You mirror the nervous energy tenfold, practically stumbling over yourself to not sound as eager as you were. JJ, in your house.

“Yeah, sweet. Cool cool cool cool.” He bops his head, drumming on the table before suddenly his name was called from inside.

“Maybank! These fish aren’t gonna fry themselves, you know that right?” The tough, unmistakable chain smoker voice of your manager rings through the air and JJ winces theatrically for your entertainment, making you giggle the same way a child might after a party clown does something stupid. It was kind of pathetic, but atleast JJ found it endearing.

You weren’t lying about the shirt, thankfully. Honest — the JJ smell was gone so you’d tossed it in the washing machine before you’d head out onto your shift, planning on finally (reluctantly) returning it the next day.

He pushes himself up to leave, before pausing and leaning over the table towards you. You freeze, and he brings his thumb to your cheek — swiping away a speck of sauce from the pasta that has splattered into your skin from how greedily you wolfed down his food. “Lemme just… get that for you.” He mutters as he does so, turning his thumb around to show you the sauce stain that had transferred to his skin and ease your confusion.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he holds your gaze as he leans back, bringing his thumb to his mouth, cleaning off the sauce. Oh, you sick bastard. He doesn’t even try and hide his smirk— and you stare dumbly at the space he stood even after he’s long gone.

The shift dragged on, tip tapping your feet whenever you stood still for too long, excited bubbles in your stomach fizzing up like shaken pop everytime you thought about the linecook. It felt like hours longer than usual, but finally — the end of your shift came. JJ’s had ended twenty minutes earlier, being replaced by another chef whose plates were always too hot and spoke too loud, making the last stretch of your working hour even tougher. You thought JJ might have forgotten about your little arrangement, just taking off to head home or to go and smoke on the rickety little boat you’d seen him on— but lo and behold, you step out the doors to that wretched place and there he is, leaning on his bike like something out of an 80s movie.

“No helmet?” You’re grinning by the time you reach him, barely containing your excitement. You don’t think you’ve even been on the back of one of these bikes before, let alone with the boy you’re crushing on. JJ scrunches his nose, wincing.

“Wasn’t countin’ on having anyone else on board today, that’s my bad.” He helps you climb on, ensuring you’re sat securely. “I’m a good driver, you’ll be alright. Just uh— hold on tight and I’ll avoid any big potholes, yeah?” He reaches back, taking your arms and wrapping them around his middle, forcing you against his warm back. He’d probably done that for plenty of people, the way it came naturally to him— but in that moment you didn’t care, just nodding as you leant more against him. You tell him your address, and he recognises it, someone he knows living near by. With that, the two of you are off.

You’re truly in bliss, closing your eyes with your cheek pressed to his back, wind whipping past your face. He is a good driver, and you dare even let yourself believe he’s being extra careful with you on board, none of the harsh turns or skids you’ve seen him do on the streets alone. Your cheeks start to ache with how much you’re smiling.

“You all good back there my lil’ backpack?” He pats your leg in a friendly manner at a stop light and you giggle, embarrassed with how fast goosebumps break out.

“Yeah, this is fun!” You yell at an unnecessary volume to be heard over the running engine, making him chuckle and glance round at you.

“Good, that’s good.”

You’re almost sad when the ride is over, his wheels coming to a slow as he parks up haphazardly beside your front lawn. You’re quick to pat your head down, knowing that journey must have you looking dishevelled at best and hop off the bike, patting the pocket of your shorts for your keys.

“My humble abode awaits.” You chirp, cringing afterwards but he smirks and follows you regardless, pulling up his pants boyishly as he stalks behind you up to your front door. Inside your head is a chant, one that consists of hoping and praying your parents wouldn’t be home so you didn’t have to do the whole awkward explanation thing, not that you didn’t have a totally valid excuse — and you were grown, so interacting with boys shouldn’t be the awkward dilemma that it was — but to them you were still their sweet girl regardless of age, and you’d like to keep it that way, which wouldn’t be possible being spotted ushering Pogue King JJ Maybank into your bedroom.

You unlock the door, calling out a ‘hello’ to be met with miraculous silence. JJ shuffles in behind you, closing the door for you and whistling quietly. “This place is pretty fancy, yeah… bet you got like, an electric toothbrush n’shit.” He comments, neck craning to look around as he follows you slowly through the house.

You huff a laugh out your nose, cheeks pressing upwards as you stroll through toward the kitchen. “An electric toothbrush?” You question.

“Yeaaah man, kook shit.” He peers nosily at the calendar, eyeing the events your family have coming up.

You spot a note pinned to the fridge and head towards it, shaking your head. “If I was a kook I wouldn’t be working at a restaurant getting coffee poured down me. Are electric toothbrushes the pinnacle of wealth in your eyes?” You laugh quietly, pulling the note off the fridge.

“Dude in eighth grade I lost my toothbrush and for a year all I had was my finger, some toothpaste and a dream.” He chats, appearing directly behind you and plucking the note from your hand. “Out ‘til late, pizza in fridge.” He reads blankly out loud and you take it back from him, tossing it aside.

“How’d you lose a toothbrush?” You chuckle, leading him out the kitchen.

“I be in situations.” He shrugs, following you to the short flight of stairs. To his core, JJ was truly just a guy— and took very little pride in watching you climb a few steps before he joined you so that he could check out your ass.

“Bet your dentist loved you.” You comment, glancing behind you at him making his eyes snap upwards guilty. He scoffs, wiping his hands on his pants like he was worried about dirtying up your house before grasping onto the bannister, skipping a few steps to hop up.

“Yeah, like I could afford one of those.”

On the landing, you point him towards the hallway, stepping back once you realised you were practically standing on top of him. He didn’t seem to notice, or mind, staring down at you for direction. “My rooms the last door on the right. I’m gonna go toss your shirt in the dryer, ‘kay?”

He nods once, strolling in the direction you pointed him. “Yes ma’am.”

You head to the laundry room and take a moment to collect yourself, sniffing his shirt to make sure it was properly clean before stuffing it into the dryer to turn it on. You lean against its circular door as it starts up, taking a breath before realising you left JJ Maybank alone in your bedroom.

You arrive at the door to your girly haven, immediately yanking a pair of panties off the ground and throwing them into a corner as you spot the blonde by the window, curiously looking around.

“So this is where the magic happens, I assume.” He glances at you, swiping his hat off his head and placing it on your dresser. Something about his gaze and the way it continually flickered to you, waiting for an answer suggested it was a genuine question. He was asking if you were seeing anyone, perhaps. You giggle.

“And if by magic you mean napping after work and reading books, yeah. It gets so magical in here, you wouldn’t believe it.” You sit on your bed, watching him semi-awkwardly pace infront of you, running hands through his hair before stuffing them into his pockets.

“Ah yeah, ha— forgot you were a real good girl. Should stay that way, I like it— and I mean like, there’s hella weirdos round here. Y’know? Better to… steer clear.” He rambles as you watch him with a smile. At work, the blonde seemed more calm, in his element— but here, in your terrain— he seemed slightly more on edge. You tried not to read into it.

Your stomach warms at the ‘good girl’ comment, lashes fluttering only a little before he’s distracted once more. You see him gazing ahead at the shelf above your vanity, opposite the bed where all your baby photos were lined up. His smile grows, and you see the cogs turn in his head.

He strides towards it in an instant, taking the framed image off the shelf. You jump up, following him to try and save yourself the embarrassment of whatever he was looking at but it was too late. He grins, turning his head to look down at you. “Oh wow, now don’t tell me this is you?” He holds the photo up beside your head, glancing theatrically between the two to compare and you bat him away.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re nosy?”

“Oh yeah, all the time. That, that is adorable though.” He’s immediately distracted by another photo, setting the one in his hand down to pick it up. “And who’s this?” He lifts the picture of your mother holding you as a baby.

“My mother.”

“Total fox. As expected.”

“Okay, no more for you.” You hide your amusement well, reaching out for the photo and grabbing it. He puts up little fight, letting you snatch the frame from his larger hand as he reaches for another, making a total mess of your embarrassing nostalgia display. This last picture is of you, around 5 years old— adorned in a pink princess dress and a plastic tiara, grinning at the camera.

“Aw.” He smirks, turning his body to face you. “Guess some things never change. Still a pretty princess.” You’re not sure if he’s mocking you now, because he’s tonguing at the cut on his lip which makes you gain a second heartbeat in your panties and you freeze up— which in itself is more embarrassing that this whole ordeal. He was a tease by nature he’ll admit, but this — this was fun. Seeing you get flustered was his new favourite thing.

You give him the exact reaction he’s after, failing to hide your smile as you lurch for the frame. He hides it behind his back and you stumble into him, stabilising yourself with both hands on his chest. He’s all… warm, and firm.

There’s a silence, but things are never quiet for too long with JJ. Thankfully.

“Damn, if you wanted to touch me up you could’a just asked. Pro’lly would’a said yes.” The smirk is yet to fade, infact you think it’s permanently stamped onto his mouth and your eyes widen just a smidge— scrambling for a witty comeback that didn’t make you look like a perverse idiot.

“I dunno, after you made fun of my baby pictures? Think I owe you two black eyes.” You tilt your head sweetly, proud of the response and his eyes flicker over your expression, eyes softening just a tad. Or maybe you imagined it.

“‘Think that’s a little extreme. How ‘bout a kiss instead?” You freeze, because it’s then you realise how close the two of you are still. Hes practically got you caged against your vanity, can probably hear how fast he’s got your heart beating— maybe smell the pathetic dribble of arousal seeping into your underwear just from being this close to him. You can’t tell if he’s kidding, and it seems he even caught himself a little off guard, blinking a few times during your stunned silence.

But then you look at his mouth, because asking a question like that is totally giving you permission to do so, and he takes that as an answer and leans in.

You’re so hypnotised when his mouth starts moving against yours that you nearly jump out of your skin when his large hands bracket your waist, pulling your body more flush against his. JJ was a good kisser, which lead you to indeed that he was infact— a whore. Well, maybe a former whore. Whatever, in that moment it didn’t matter— nothing mattered, just JJ and his tongue that was sliding against yours as the kiss heated up.

It feels like hours that your tongues are looping round eachother, snapped out the moment by the hungry blondes hands sliding down, your waist in his grip becomes suddenly your ass cheeks through your shorts, squeezing and pulling you against him practically lifting your entire body. It’s then you realise you having a working voice box, because you let out the most pathetic mewl you’ve ever heard yourself make. Even more pathetic than the noises you made only a few nights ago from your own hand.

He groans back almost as like a response, and with that — finally, he manoeuvres you to start walking backwards towards the very bed you fell apart on at the thought of what you were currently doing, or about to do. Your lips detach when the backs of your knees hit the bed, falling to sit down at the edge of it with a few bounces. He stares down at you for a couple of seconds, disorientated and sore-mouthed like even he can’t believe what’s happening— before he jumps into action. Jittery and clumsily like he always is.

“Should probably uh— if we’re gonna get on the bed I don’t wanna— poke you with somethin’” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, unloading them. His phone, his keys, earphones, cigarettes, wallet, other random knickknacks that would otherwise make you raise an eyebrow if you weren’t already so dazed by him. He’s about to return to you, before his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, as if he just remembered something — and he reaches into the back of his pants, pulling up the shirt that hung over his waistband to there retrieve his gun. He holds it up with a smile that said ‘How silly of me!’

You gape. “JJ, why do you have that?”

He shuffles some things around on your vanity, scrambling to make space for the piece. “Uh, had to bring it home today… lemme just… set that down there.” He places it next to your jewellery stand, the contrast in the items almost making you laugh in disbelief. “The old problem solver.” He mutters, giving it a fond pat before turning back to you, happy to carry on.

“What if my parents were to come home and see that?” You challenge with a pout, not too keen about him bringing a weapon into your house. He huffs out a smirk, leaning back down to where you’re sat, hands on your shoulders as he slowly lays you down.

“Think they’d be a little more concerned about the dirty pogue on top of their little girl, but y’know…” His words get lower and lazier as he draws in before locking his lips onto yours again, this time wasting no time with introducing his tongue.

You’re back in the zone, gun long forgotten within seconds— running your hands through his hair, over his strong arms, touching everywhere you’ve wanted to touch since you started working at the restaurant. Well, not everywhere.

He’s not holding back on being handsy either, body slotted between your legs after he lifts you further up the bed, grappling at your thighs, hips, and eventually tits. You can’t blame him, there’s desperation behind both of your actions — the fact you’d both wanted this for a while now slowly becoming clear. Your heart thumps hard at this realisation, suddenly less able to breathe and you pull back panting, breath trembling.

His eyes flicker over your face, watching your wet mouth as you ramble. “Wanted— mmph— wanted this for a while.”

He drags his lips over your cheek, pressing his hips against yours and you can feel him hardening. It does little to help you calm down. “Yeah, same… Is it… uh, is it weird I kinda didn’t want you to wash the shirt before givin’ it back to me?” He smiles, dropping another toothy peck to your mouth as his hands continue feeling you up.

Your eyes flutter closed once more when he softly grinds his bulge against your cunt, your knees tightening against his hips as you let out a silent moan, lips parted.

“H-had to. I slept in it.” You admit before you think, brain focused on other things. He laughs quietly against your jaw, smoothing his tongue over the now bitten skin.

“Aw, you did?” He creates some space between the two of you, his hand very slowly starting to trail down your body, past your stomach. “You got it so bad for me, huh?” He teases and you whine, openly and pathetically— spoiled and childish even. JJ didn’t seem the type to talk about his feelings easily, but teasing you for yours was outright mean.

“Shutup.” Comes with the whine, your breath catching pathetically as you feel the rumble of him slowly unzipping your shorts zipper at your crotch, lips detaching from your jaw for a second to look at what he’s doing, still chuckling.

“Thats rude.” He grins, quiet and lighthearted, elated when you start helping him pull your shorts down and kicking them carelessly off. If he wasn’t so desperate to get his hands on you, he would have taken more time to appreciate your cute little cotton panties with the bow on top. They were so you, exactly the sort he pictured you wearing, moreso pictured you soaking through the way you were now.

His hand slides over the length of your covered cunt, all but cupping you and pushing his fingers over the embarrassing amount of wetness on the fabric. “What else did you do in the shirt, hm? Talk me through it babe.”

He’s teasing you, not truly expecting much of an answer as he genuinely believed a sweet girl like you wouldn’t have the gall to do anything but sleep in his shirt. His lips trail down the centre column of your neck, and it bobs with a harsh swallow. Now, his interest is piqued.

“Can’t say!” You whimper, eyes screwed up, legs spreading wider as he gently thumbs at your clit through the fabric, just enough to stimulate you. You feel him remove his mouth from you, lifting his head into your direct eyeline with an amused raise of the brow.

“Well now sweetheart, you’re just gonna have to tell me.” His fingers tuck into the leg hole of your panties, like he wants to pull it aside but won’t. You realise he’s still watching you, waiting for an answer and that he’s not gonna go further until you speak. “Don’t be shy, tell Papa J what you—”

“Touched myself. I touched myself.” You release all in one breath. Now it’s his turn to ogle you, completely off guard. If he wasn’t hard as a rock before, he certainly was now. Probably leaking in his boxers too from how things felt down there. This was poor performance from him, he thought at the back of his mind. This fucked so early on? Shit, he knew he liked you but c’mon.

He peels your panties to the side and you squeak, the boy making no effort to touch you still— just letting the cool air of your room grace your glossy folds.

“And why would you do something like that, baby?” He noses at your cheek, trying to get you to open your eyes. You squeeze them harder before fluttering them open, so hot in the face and embarrassed when you find his gaze you think you might just die.

“Because I like you.” You whisper. It’s sweet, just like he thought you’d be when the time comes. He smiles, dimple deepening as his free hand cups your cheek.

“Because you like me.” He repeats in affirmation. It’s a little smug, he’ll admit — but having his dream girl beneath him had his ego on ten, what can he say. He slides two fingers through your wetness, dragging what he collected up your clit and circling it making you arch your back. “Gotta say, the feelings definitely mutual.”

He kisses you again, and this time it feels like something else. Like a confession, a proposal of some sort. It’s passionate, overwhelming in the best way, intimate — as his fingers start to move, stroking your clit and making your legs tremble in adrenaline.

As you writhe and moan beneath him, his lips swallowing as many as he can, unable to stay away— his other hand starts to slide up your work shirt. You wished you’d been wearing something sexier the first time the two of you got it on, but clearly it sort of did something for him.

If the speed at which he located and stimulated your clit wasn’t enough to convince you that the boy definitely had experience, it would be the way his hand slides around to your back, unhooking your bra singlehandedly. You can’t help but giggle through your whimpers and you’re not sure why, but he smiles too— murmuring “Party trick.” against your mouth. The smile is wiped from your face when his digit glides around your hole, as if lapping up all the wetness and then pushing in— all the way to the knuckle.

You moan and tense up a little, it’s been a while and your own fingers were definitely smaller than his. At your reaction. he pulls back only slightly— a look of concern poorly masked on his face.

“Are you… have you uh, been with a guy before? Or is this…”

“One guy, a while back. Not good at all.” You sigh and he nods patiently, lips twitching up when he starts to move his finger and your eyes flutter involuntarily. “Think I can work with that.”

He twists his wrist a little, working you with just one finger as he paws at your free’d tit, sucking on your tongue. You moan, the sound of your own wetness having its own presence in the room and he hums, pulling back to look down at the way you’re sucking his middle finger in.

“So pretty, you’ve been holdin’ out on me baby. Should be a crime to hide this cute little pussy, damn.” He whispers and you whine in preemptive embarrassment to the way you clench around him, making him chuckle again. “Oh yeah? She liked that, huh?”

“More, please—” You nearly choke on your own swallow as you lift your head, looking down at the way he’s got you spread out. Reaching downwards you gently tug at his wrist, not quite sure of the aim. “N—‘nother one.” You pant. Jeez, already totally fucked dumb and he hasn’t even made you cum. You were going to give JJ Maybank an even bigger head.

He doesn’t say anything, just sinks two fingers into your cunt and you make a noise he’s only heard in amateur porn videos from Twitter, dick usually nestled in his fist. He presses his lips together in a quiet ‘Mhm’ and your hands are back on him, desperate once more to consume him wholly.

Your nails rake through his hair as he finds his rhythm, tonguing at the cut on his lip with wide observant eyes that flicker between your face and your cunt. “Look at you go.” He responds to a moan— but JJ being JJ knows he can do better, which is why he stops thumbing at your nipple and pushes his hand into the bed instead, using the weight on his arm to start sliding down your body.

The first kiss against your stomach catches you off guard, and if you weren’t so dizzy from pleasure you might wanna think about it more. He repositions his hand, stroking your inner thigh as he pushes them wider apart and shushes you, now face to face with your glistening pussy. His fingers slow their movements for a moment.

“She’s real pretty.” His fingers slide out so he can make messy doing of spreading your folds with his fingers, licking his already wet lips.

“Thank you.” You mewl happily, eyes watery as they gaze down at him like he hung the moon and stars for you.

“You’re so sweet.” He smiles genuinely and fairly innocently up at you as he strokes your thigh affectionately— before of course counteracting that by shooting out a thick bubbling glob of spit directly onto your clit, making your jaw drop. Lifting your thighs, he murmurs. “So sweet you get me hard. S’kinda unfair… at work.” Before he chases the spit with the flat of his tongue, bringing the muscle up to then wrap his lips around your clit and suck.

No noise can leave you for a few seconds, brows furrowed and jaw dropped in a silent moan until he forces the noise out of you by stuffing his fingers back inside your weeping hole.

“Oh— oh, JJ!” Your toes curl and in record time you feel your first orgasm approaching. It’s different from the ones you give yourself, it’s a ball of fire in your stomach and heat licking up your spine, eyes even watering at the exertion.

“Yeah say my name, c’mon.” He coaches you, moving his tongue faster like he’s competing with himself to make you cum.

“JJ, mmpph— feels— it feels—” You nearly sob.

“How’s it feel?”

“M’gonna—”

“Cum, babydoll. I got you.”

White noise. Like, almost the sounds of waves crashing. It doesn’t really feel like you’re a person anymore — but one thing is for certain. You have never cum like that in your life. You must of been on autopilot, moaning and whining pathetically, slurring out nonsense and maybe a twisted version of his name— but when you come back to Earth you’re near hyperventilating.

You slap at his shoulders with shaky hands because his lips are still latched onto your pulsing nub, fingers still squelching and working the release out of you. “Ok—okay, Jayj— please!” You let out a pathetic little cry and he eases up, pushing himself off you with a satisfied hum and grinning cheekily, letting you push out his fingers. You suck in shaky breaths, letting him soak in the moment by bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning them off.

“Better than anything I make, can tell you that.” He jokes. “Taste that shit, s’fuckin’ delicious.” He eases his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck off the remains with a humiliated mewl before removing them, leaning over you to kiss you. God, it’s embarrassing how much you soaked his face. Really, how it ended up on his forehead— you wasn’t sure. You were too focused on your own taste he was forcing into your mouth with his tongue, purposeful and cocky, making sure to roll his own wet muscle over your tastebuds so that you never forget who made you cum that hard.

It’s then, and only then he realises you’re freaking a little and lets you off for a break, cupping your cheek as he pulls back. “Are you good?” He chuckles and you inhale deeply, still trembling. You’re not sure what he does, because everything’s all hazy but he manhandles you a little until he’s cradling you in strong biceps, brow creased. “Did I go too hard? I may— may have gotten a lil’ carried away there. My apologies.” He holds up a hand that wasn’t cradling you.

“Was just— haven’t — it’s never felt like that before. Never felt that good.” You admit, which brings back his dimple and that sickeningly soft look in his eyes.

“What can I say, you deserve the best there is when it comes to receiving orgasms, and I,” He presses his mouth back on yours, kissing you between each word. “Am the best, there, is, at, giving them.” On the last kiss you lean into it, holding him there, as you’re ambushed by an unexpected feeling.

Some kind of surge in your stomach, like butterflies but bigger, your heart pounding. If you weren’t so dazed you’d be worried the L word was coming to doom you early. The feeling made you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him back ontop of you, jean clad bulge pressed back against your sensitive heat as you moan, high pitched and happy against him.

He pulls back to make some kind of joke, maybe a comment about your recovery time but you beat him to the chase, staring up into his dilated pupils with love hearts occupying your own. “Wanna make you feel good, Jayj.”

“You—how—”

You suckle on your bottom lip, hand bravely travelling down to cup the bulge that was calling to attention in his jeans. His breath catches in his throat, lips parting to let out a quiet and surprised groan.

“I’ve never—” Your face is hot again. “Never given a blow job before but—”

“Next time. Yeah? If you’ll let me I kinda just… wanna fuck you.” He smirks and hides it in your jawline, almost too shy in the moment to look you in the eye. Your brows furrow with a silent whimper at his words.

“Next time?” You mewl happily like you’re floating on air. At this he pulls back, a hopeful grin.

“If you’ll have me, that is. Figured I should take you out on a real date.”

You don’t have time to respond, he doesn’t let you— perhaps out of nerves. Instead, he’s working your panties that had been pushed to the side down your legs, followed by pulling your tshirt over your head. “Peekaboo, there she is.” He smiles quietly and you giggle, thinking back to the time at the locker where he pulled his shirt over your head. You toss your loose bra away from the bed, now laying bare beneath him.

He sits back on his knees, hands instinctually lifting to his head like he wanted to fix his hat, a habit you noticed of his that would occur when he’s overwhelmed or in awe. He settles on running his hands through the blonde tresses instead, big goofy smile on his face.

“Holy shit. I mean like — holy shit.” He breathes and you turn your head shyly, then reaching out to tug at his shirt.

“You too.” You gesture to his shirt and he offs it within a second, not wanting to look away from your naked body from a minute. Once his hands are free again, he’s sliding them up to your chest, greedily massaging your tits in both hands.

“Fuck, you are so fine. I mean like I think I nearly came in my pants.” He admits quietly and you tug at his belt, having to remind him of what you were actually doing.

“C’mon, Jayj— want you to fuck me!” You whine, all doe eyes and pouts, not even registering how pathetic and desperate the sentiment was — only making his cock throb harder. He buckles slightly, like it physically pains him and he nods quickly, fumbling with his belt until he could pull his jeans down just enough to release himself.

It’s long, pink and pretty like you expected — pearly precum gathering at his tip. He grasps it infront of you, eyes flickering between yours and his dick, suddenly looking hesitant. “So uh, this is what m’ working with.” He announces awkwardly, overthinking everything — but it doesn’t matter because you’re wrapping a delicate hand round it, guiding him to your entrance.

“Woah there missy, okay uh— hold your horses. This job don’t pay either of us enough for you to get knocked up.” He side rolls off the bed hobbling over to the dresser for his wallet, retrieving a condom and returning. You would have laughed, but you get all embarrassed and teary eyed about how overly eager you’d been.

“Sorry. I wasn’t thinkin’.” You pout and his eyes flutter up to yours, kneeling between your legs.

“Hey? You’re good.” He tears the packet open with his teeth and you clench around nothing. “You’re good.” He repeats, stroking your thigh as he eases the rubber onto his cock. “Still up for it, babe?”

You bite your lip with a sniffly giggle, nodding and he grins himself, laying on top of you to press a sloppy kiss to your mouth. He pulls away, and he lines himself up before slowly easing himself in.

Your legs around his waist hug him tighter and your toes curl at the stretch, wincing. “You got it.” He encourages, voice breathier like it teetered on a moan which only made you flutter around him.

“S’big, JJ.” You whimper and he huffs against your neck.

“I— thanks.”

Once he’s in, he’s in — and you can see how his fingers and tongue were only just the appetiser. He fucks like it’s the last time, like his life depends on it— rolling his hips, his hands somehow in ten places at once, his tongue — oh his tongue, it’s in your mouth, then down your neck, then looping around your nipple making you clench and whine and cry.

He starts to speed up, unable to control himself as his hands slide under your lower back to hold you, thumbing at your waist. “Shit, shit, shit.” He grits his teeth, having to contain himself there and then from cumming when he sees the way your tits bounce beneath him. “Takin’ that shit so good, huh? Jesus baby.” He wrinkles his nose in exertion, panting.

“S’just so good, JJ— mmph!”

“Yeah? Y’gonna think of this everytime I see you, shit, everytime I see you in the kitchen? Givin’ me those big sexy fuck me eyes everytime I hand you a plate? Shit baby, pretty little waitress, huh. N’ you’re all mine now. So freakin’ lucky.” Hes rambling, nonsensical— already pussy drunk.

You’re in ecstasy. Not only from how he felt, but from how you were making him feel. It occurred to you that no one seems to talk about the validation you receive from finally getting to fuck your crush, watching them come apart over you. You wanted more, wanted to impress him.

In a trance, you push at his stomach, shuffling upwards so he reluctantly pulls out, concern on his clammy face. You fumble, rolling onto your front, sticking your ass in the air, looking over your shoulder.

“Please.” You plead, and you’re not sure what for— but it works, the blonde puffing out his cheeks with a dramatic exhale, lining himself behind you and pushing in. “Gonna be the death of me, babydoll.”

You may have overestimated your abilities, crying pathetically when he bottoms out, his cock feeling ten times it’s size from this angle.

“Arch that back baby, there you go, just like that.” He whispers, pressing down on your lower back making you sob. You fuck back against him, pressing your cheek to your pillow, fingers curling into it for security. “Good girl, that’s right.” He drops a hand beneath you, finding your clit once more and as a surprise ambush, you cum— suddenly and embarrassingly, gushing around his cock leaving a ring of cream at his base.

He doesn’t stop this time, giving you a moment to catch your breath as you whine and mewl like a distressed kitten. No, if anything — he goes harder, his own release on the precipice. The bed is creaking now, wooden headboard smacking the wall as he leans his weight on the back of your arms, pelvis slapping against your ass. Little squeaks are punched out of you with each thrust, and when you think he’s reached a crescendo— he slows.

“Fuck, fuck turn around baby. Need to see that pretty face to cum, c’mon.” He pants in one breath, fighting you back onto your back and sliding back in with ease this time, pushing one knee up to your chest and rolling his hips, eyes squeezed shut.

He tries to keep them open, eyes everywhere— your tits, your big wet eyes, your lips. Like he can’t help himself, he sloppily cups your cheek, a thumb brushing your bottom lip. Wanting to help him along in your post orgasm brain-fog, your tongue peeks out, trying to catch the finger as he bounces you on his cock. Once you’ve got it, you wrap your lips around it, sucking with devotion and love hearts in your eyes.

“Oh my— god” He whimpers, finally dropping his cheek to your chest as he ruts into you, spilling his seed. You moan at the feeling, scratching at his back and fluttering around him. The butterflies return.

After ten minutes, you’re laying on his thick bicep— his blunt fingernails scratching your scalp at the bottom of your skull. The dryer beeps distantly, signifying that it’s completed its cycle.

Maybank is staring at you, like he’s trying to memorise your face, like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. An amused smile breaks out onto your face, trying to hide it in his arm as you press a kiss there. At this, a grin spreads on his own face, questioning.

“You know… I do actually have an electric toothbrush.”

“I freaking knew it.”

#linecook!jj #jj maybank fic 🎀

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kentopedia · 3 months

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I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento

omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3

contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k

“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”

your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.

he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”

“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”

kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.

you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”

nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”

though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”

“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”

the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.

“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”

kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?

“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.

you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”

the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”

despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.

“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.

“of course, kento.”

he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.

“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”

all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”

“don’t you?”

you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”

“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”

“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.

you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."

“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”

that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”

kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”

“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”

he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“you’re so stupid.”

kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”

and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.

“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”

kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”

he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.

you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”

kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”

“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.

but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”

whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.

“hey kento?”

“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”

“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”

kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”

#kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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nina-ya · 13 days

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Can I request Zoro, Kid, and Law (separately) where their respective crew are going to like (whether it be for a mission or just for fun), a fancy event where they need to dress up, and the dress is like dressed up, and is so pretty, that the boys can’t resist and doesn’t stop kissing them? Idk, I thought it’d be cute and I love needy men who are so in love with their partner lol

One Piece Men Being Needy (Zoro, Kid, and Law)

Pairings: Zoro x reader, Kid x reader, Law x reader (all separate) CW: Suggestive content. A lot of implied sex. Just,,,... i fear i wrote this with nothing but sinful thoughts in mind HAHADJK WC: ~1.9k total A/N: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO THIS BUT I AM HERE HI!! This was on my mind for much longer than i would ever admit so anon i greatly thank you for letting me write about them in this context hugs and kisses to you <3

You never expected such a simple choice in attire to stir such a reaction from Zoro. His intense gaze did not leave you the moment you stepped foot off the ship, dressed to the nines for the banquet.

Throughout the evening, Zoro could not keep his hands off of you. Whether it was a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you close to his side, or a sly touch under the table, he seemed off tonight. And the kisses, oh, the kisses were something else. More frequent than usual, each one leaving you wanting more.

What really caught you off guard was when he pulled you onto his lap, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

“Zoro,” you whispered, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you felt his own lips planting kisses along your exposed neck and shoulder, “what’s gotten into you tonight?”

He smiled against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist as he murmured back, “Just couldn’t resist.”

You tilted your head to make eye contact with him, “Well, I’m not complaining,” you teased, reaching up to briefly run your hand through his hair.

Zoro’s smile widened at your playful response, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter just as fast as the day you first met him. “Glad to hear it,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. The two of you were lost in your own little world, focusing on the feeling of your lips against each other as the banquet faded in the background.

But moments like these can’t last forever, and your attention was pulled to a familiar voice calling your names. You glanced over to see Nami approaching, a sly smile on her face as she caught the sight of the two of you. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. "Sucking each other's faces off, are we?"

You and Zoro quickly pulled apart, though the warmth of his embrace lingered on your skin. "Nami!" you exclaimed, feeling a rush of embarrassment heat up your cheeks.

Zoro just grunted in response, avoiding eye contact with Nami. If you looked closely, you could point out the smallest hint of redness creeping up onto his cheeks.

Nami chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you both. "It’s not like you’re really hiding it well," she said with a laugh before turning to head back to the dance floor.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed at Nami’s teasing, letting out a nervous laugh as she walked away. Zoro seemed amused by the whole situation, and went right back to planting kisses down your neck. His trail of kisses made their way up to your ear when he muttered into your ear, “She’s right. We are kind of making this obvious. Why don’t we cut this short and head back to the ship?” - - -

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when the door behind you swung open, pulling you out of your concentration. You shifted your attention in the mirror to see Kid standing in the doorway, dressed in a more formal attire for the night's events.

He strolled into the room, walking up behind you snaking his arms around your waist as he admired you through the mirror. “You look gorgeous.” He commented, planting a kiss against your temple. He looked down and his eyes focused on the lipstick in your hand and a smirk played on his lips. “Is that mine?” he asked.

You hummed in response as you cleaned up one of the edges. “This looked like the perfect shade,” you pulled back from the mirror and tilted your head to admire your makeup, “and it seems like I was right.”

Kid's smirk widened as he watched you, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, I suppose you have good taste," he teased, reaching out to take the lipstick from your hand. "But you know the rules, sweetheart. You gotta pay a price to borrow that."

Before you could protest, Kid leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. His lips were warm against yours, but just as quickly as it began, Kid pulled back, a smirk spreading across his face as you both took in the sight of your lipstick smeared at the edges.

You scolded Kid, lightly shoving his arm as you reached for your makeup remover. "You're going to make us late!" you exclaimed, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice as you dabbed at the smudged lipstick.

Kid chuckled, his arms still wrapped around your waist as he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving another mark in the process. "Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We've got plenty of time."

As you worked to fix your makeup, Kid's hands roamed over your waist and shoulders, his touch light and affectionate as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving more of a mess for you to clean up. "You know," he said, his voice low and husky, “you should dress like this more often. You look absolutely beautiful."

You couldn't help but enjoy the compliments he’s throwing your way along with the feeling of his large hands tracing your body, giving squeezes ever so often. "Are you trying to flatter me?" you teased, glancing at him through the mirror.

You could feel Kid's lips curl into a playful smirk against your skin as he responded "Is it working?" he murmured, looking up to lock eyes with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "Because I have a proposition for you."

Your heart was already jumping out of your chest and yet it managed to beat just a bit faster as your curiosity heightened by his words. "Oh? And what might that be?" you asked, unable to hide the anticipation in your voice.

His hands trailed lower, fingers brushing over the curve of your hips as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You know, we don't have to go to the event," he suggested, his voice laced with desire. "We don’t have to go out. We could stay right here. "

Excitement bubbled in your stomach at his suggestion. You placed down the items in your hand and turned around, draping your arms over his shoulders, leaning in., "And what exactly did you have in mind that we do?" you teased, your own voice lust laden.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” he murmured. With a sly grin, Kid's hands moved under your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the counter behind you. He closed the distance between you two, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving you absolutely breathless. He pulled your body against his and your hands threaded through his hair as you relished in the feelings. Yeah, you guys are not making it to that event. - - - Golden eyes fixated on you from across the room, the orbs drinking in every movement you made, every breath you took, every word you spoke as you effortlessly mingled with the other guests at the lavish gala that you had to attend for a mission. How was Law expected to focus when you looked utterly captivating? The moment you emerged from the cramped confines of the Polar Tangs’ bathroom, adorned in that breathtaking dress, he knew he was spellbound. The mission, albeit important, paled in comparison to the magnetic pull you seemed to have.

Gathering intelligence on the enemy crew’s whereabouts seemed a trivial task to Law compared to the challenge of tearing his gaze away from you. You charmed the guests around you, soft laughter spilling from your lips as you feign interest in their rather vacuous jokes. It all seemed so effortless to you. As if in a trance, Law found himself setting down his champagne glass on the nearest counter, his feet making unconscious strides drawing him in your direction.

You stole a glance in his direction and noticed Law drawing nearer, seemingly with an urgent thought on his mind. The other guests, too, couldn’t help but notice his presence, their curiosity heightened by his sudden intrusion into your conversation.

“Excuse us for a moment,” Law simply said, his voice low, yet resolute as he grabbed your hand and led you away from the crowd. He offered a quick apology to the guests you were engaged in a conversation with, and you allowed yourself to be guided by him, confusion and anticipation filling you as you were whisked away.

He guided you with purpose, turning corner after corner until you reached a seemingly secluded area. You opened your mouth to speak, but before a single word could escape, his lips crashed against yours in an urgent kiss. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss with such an intensity that you couldn’t even process what was going on. His lips were warm and insistent against yours, and you melted into his embrace.

Lost in the intoxicating feelings of the kiss, you forgot about the world around you, the mission being pushed in the depths of your mind as you are consumed by the sensation of Laws’s lips against yours. But just as quickly as it began, Law reluctantly pulled back, your ragged breaths mingling with each other as he gazed deeply into your eyes. “I just couldn’t resist,” he confessed, his voice filled with need, each word charged with an undeniable desire. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Law,” you began, your words breathy as you recovered from the previous kiss, “the mission, we need to get back to- mph!” He silenced you with another kiss. The way his lips moved against yours threatened to consume you entirely before you lightly pushed on his chest to separate the two of you.

“Don’t worry about the mission.” he muttered, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before continuing, “I’ve got the information we need.” His words were accompanied by the rapid thumping of his heart against your palm, mirroring the frantic beat of your own. “You look just so,” he started planting wet kisses down your neck as his hands danced down the sides of your body, pulling a small gasp from you as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. As his lips made their way back up to your ear, he finished his thought, “enchanting. You just look utterly enchanting, and I would like to take advantage of this.” You could practically hear the smirk in his words while he guided you backwards until your back made contact with the wall behind you. Law was certainly going to make it clear that nothing else mattered in that moment except the two of you.

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miguelhugger2099 · 18 days

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What if…. Miguel was Gomez Addams?

(Discord brainrot go brrrr)

Miguel was the type of man that knew what he wanted. A man with odd tastes yet with an undeniable charm that had people reeling in. He took pride in being the life of the party, welcoming guests, entertaining with men and wooing the women.

Some would say he’s at the top and would forever be at the top.

However, the moment you walked in, there was a clear shift in the mood. Doors opened and creaked as you came into view, a gentle smile on your red lips and hands delicately placed one on top of the other on your stomach.

Your eyes are on Miguel—him staring back—and the entire room turns to face Miguel. His smile grows at the sight of you, heart beating to life once more.

Miguel drops the champagne glass he held, the cup shattering into shards on impact, and his feet shuffle hurriedly to stand by your side. Few gasps are heard at the pitched sound of glass breaking, alcohol seeping into the wooden floorboards but all of that falls on deaf ears for Miguel.

Your smile tilts higher up when Miguel approaches, both his hands immediately taking one of yours and kissing your knuckles with gusto.

You can feel his breath when he sighs against your skin, his hands clutching desperately onto you while he proceeds to kiss your hand and up your arm. His lips pepper you with affection onto your neck, and to your lips where he leaves a long kiss— your lipstick smeared on his mouth when he pulls away.

But Miguel doesn’t care for that. A bright grin etched on his face while his eyes glow with adoration. He can’t help but press another kiss to your knuckles with a soft moan. You take your other hand and cup his cheek and he leans into your palm.

“Hello, my darling.” You hum. Miguel stands back up, pressing another kiss to your cheek and temple.

“Cara mía…” He whispers back lovingly. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer as if he simply can not get enough of your beauty. He turns to the party goers—his fingers lacing through yours—and introduces you.

“My wife, everyone, has joined us for the night!” He glances back at you. “Gracias, mi reina.” His chest puffs up with pride, ushering you in front of him to walk first.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling.” You tell him sweetly that makes his heart jump at your tone. He knew you were a much secluded person so he didn’t hold it against you if you didn’t want to be at this party. That didn’t mean he wasn’t stuck to you like glue hours prior, wanting to spend time with you as much as he could before separation.

The guests greet you with weary smiles, now knowing that the oddness of the couple would tenfold now that they had each other. They return to their conversations, giving glances and side eyes to you two as you both walked further inside. A sea of people parting while your eyes remained on each other.

“Quieres un poco de vino, mi amor?” He asks, leading you to the table with various bottles.

“Maybe just a few sips tonight, my dear.” You fan yourself with your hand, feeling a little stuffy and warm. Miguel notice’s immediately, quickly letting you go to open a few of the large windows to let some air in. He comes back and hands you a wine glass, pouring the wine for you.

After that, his arm loops behind you, his palm resting on your lower back and leading you around the room while he makes deals and does his job. Well…he does mention you every chance he gets.

“Have you met my wife? She’s brilliant—my most trusted confidant!”

“You know my wife, beautiful woman, said the same thing to me the other day.”

“Oh no, the home decor was not my idea but my wife’s. She’s amazing. Please give your compliments to her instead of me.”

Shamelessly, Miguel would keep your hand in his, kissing up your arm and to your neck. You’d giggle when he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, him smirking and gripping you flush against him—even in front of others, much to their dismay.

It was strange to them just how loving Miguel was to you and you to him. Unusual for a man to be turned into putty that disregarded social norms of keeping public displays of affection to a minimum. They awkwardly looked at one another when Miguel brought you close for a kiss, unable to stop himself from moaning when he tasted the wine from your lips.

One man cleared his throat, blush evident on his cheeks. “W-well, it’s getting late. It must be time for us to go.” His blush darkens when you and Miguel ignore the man for an even deeper kiss with you, your hands combing through his hair. “We’ll talk more business later.”

The guests scurried off one by one, staring at the vulgarity of your blatant love for one another. When the door shut, it echoed along with the soft kisses you and Miguel shared before he lifted you up and sat you on one of the tables. His hands placed on both your thighs while your arms were around his neck.

#me when the discord makes me extra feral #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel 2099 #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader

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yok00k · 5 months

Text

LOVE.

pairing: pinkcoquette/Sanriolover!oc x bf!jk

genre: fluff, smut

“Sippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely”

Synopsis: you wanted to try the “pink coquette core” on your boyfriend and your poor sleepy dog

warnings: brief SMUT at the end, oc is desperate, clingy, and be waking everyone up @ midnight in the name of coquette core💀, too much love in the air, mention of jk only in his sweatpants, dirty thoughts, (pink bow should have its own warning too imo)

Author’s note: this is my very first work/drabble ^o^ I was mainly inspired by these outta pocket ‘coquette core’ videos on tiktok and it made me think about my man jungkook and my son bam (this is unedited & will probably stay that way, I just write for my own sanity)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

Pleaseeee my kookie? I promise it will be quick” I desperately pleaded to him as I straddled him on the couch. I showered his entire head with plenty of my sweet kisses, trying to convince him to do a foolish video that’s quite trending today. The only response I got are his arms snaking around my lower waist while he continues to watch his tv show, Bloodhound.

Early this morning, I was scrolling on my ‘for you’ page and saw a bunch of pretty and pleasing coquette videos. Essentially, pink bows were wrapped around the daintiest [and most random] stuffs including ramen cup noodles, lip oil, or even a rose toy. Do I get the pattern of the coquette trend? Absolutely not. But one certain thing I’m sure of is that I will wrap a tiny baby pink bow around my boyfriend. And it will happen no matter what it takes.

Since offering him with plenty of affection doesn’t seem to work, I had to go down with my last technique. “I will grant you three wishes if you let me do it” I whispered softly to his ear. Immediately, he grabbed the remote to pause the show that he was so focused on .

“Anything?” Jungkook eagerly asked, two round, shining dark eyes gaze upon me as they search for assurance in my words. “Anything” I guarantee, kissing his pretty nose before getting off his lap.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

“koo stay still” I complained while giggling at the sight of him attempting to awkwardly stand still with a flimsy ribbon flimsy bow that looped around his torso and veiny arms.

‘How cute’ I thought.

While trying to capture videos and a couple of photos of him, I can’t help but to flash a grin. Small things like this really make my heart so full. Spending a solid quality time with him, even if it’s doing something nonsense is a memory I will forever value.

“So cute” I mumbled, staring at my phone as I went through the images I took seconds ago.

After a minute or two, Jungkook, who’s still standing, took a loud, deep breath.

“baby are we done yet?” he whined. “Oh my bad kookie” I rushed to turn off my phone to finally give my undivided attention to him. The ribbon tied around him got unfasten by me. Finally, he can breathe freely again.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

It was midnight when out of nowhere, another light bulb popped out of my brain on what (or who) to use the notorious pink decoration for. And in this case, I won’t be able to sleep unless I accomplish the sudden idea. Somehow, I managed to escape from Jungkook’s arms securely holding onto my waist. I quickly grab two pink short strips and head to the living room. The entire apartment was filled by silence and darkness therefore I turned the mini lampshade in the corner, causing Bam to wake up and immediately have his guards up. When he recognized that it was just me, he put his head down on the floor while holding a gaze on me as if he’s questioning ‘why is she bothering me at this hour?’

“I’m sorry for waking you up this hour bammie, mama just needs to do something real quick ok?” I gently explained to the Doberman. It didn’t take me so much time to delicately tie a not-so-tight bow around his both ears. What took time was taking good pictures of him for the reasons that he’s moving too much and doesn't know what on earth is going on.

“Look at mami bam” I whispered, snapping my fingers to get his attention to look in the camera. The poor dog keeps moving his head, figuring out the thing around his ears are for.

“Baby what are you doing?” an abrupt voice spoke behind me.

Shit. Turning my body around, I got a glance at the half lidded eyes filled with pure curiosity. As I examined his tall and muscular physique, I also didn’t fail to notice that he was only wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants. And when I say only, I meant only so don’t ask me for any color of something.

The things that my mind urges me to do.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

I dropped my knees in front of him, left hand wrapped in his upper leg while the other hand softly palmed his growing tent. I looked into his eyes as I gave his clothed cock few pecks, teasing him. Instantly he gave me a nod before throwing his head back, gesturing to me to keep on going.

I wasted no time and pulled down his sweatpants till an angry, hard cock that slapped his bottom abdomen was released from being suffocated. It’s too pretty, so desperate to be touched. Using my small grip, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, directing it right to my drooling mouth. I gifted his pink mushroom tip kitty licks, then proceeded to gradually bob my head up and down greedily to his cock as if he’s my last meal.

“mmh.. so good baby” jungkook shamelessly groans, the cold room is filled with nothing but dirty, loud moans. The noises motivated me to go on and also to do the best I can to make him feel good.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

“___, you still with me?” he asked again, bringing me out in reality from the filthy thoughts that've been going around the back of my head.

“yeah.. I was just trying the ribbon on Bam” I responded breathlessly as my gaze returned to his beautiful eyes. I just smiled, as if I wasn’t imagining an obscene scene with him a few seconds ago. “let’s go to sleep” I announced as I got up from the ground.

and before we sleep, I made sure to turn my little cute scenario into reality.

#jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkooksmut #hello kitty #jungkook fanfiction #jk smut

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luveline · 3 months

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hi hello!! I want to say I absolutely adore and love your writing and have for a few years now! I have a steve request (could fit with kbd or not!) (also so self indulgent lol) where reader grew up with a very emotionally distant father and was determined to make her own family so different than the one she grew up with, and sees steve be so kind and loving towards their children and is so happy her kids won’t feel how she does with her own father and thanks him for being wonderful 🫶🏽 sorry so long and personal but i know you would write this so beautifully!!

thank u for requesting! dad!steve x mom!reader, 1.4k

“What do you want to get your sister for her birthday?”

You can barely hear his whispering, let alone Avery’s response. “We want…” she’s lisping and listing, unfamiliar with her own voice even as her vocabulary grows, “to get her… um, a big teddy bear.”

“How big?” Steve whispers back.

You hold Bethie’s face above your shoulder, your arm around her, the other patting the base of her spine. She’s getting heavy, but she’s only little. She can barely speak, only mumble nonsense into your neck as she fights sleep. “Shh, shh,” you shush her gently. “It’s okay, Bethie.”

Across the landing, Avery and Steve lay on their stomachs in her room. There’s a pad of paper between them and crayons spilled rainbow across the carpet. Steve draws without looking up; he’s a brilliant artist even now he doesn’t have time for it. Avery chokes a purple crayon with each of her fingers and draws a huge jagged line under his work. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Lightning. I think we should get her a big teddy, like, big as your hands.”

“That’s not big in terms of teddy bear, honey.”

“Oh.”

“What’s the lightning for?”

“The cloud.”

“You want me to draw some puddles?”

She thinks Steve being able to draw things near immediately is as magical as the television, and the radio. Something seemingly out of nothing. She doesn’t understand how often he’d practise, didn’t see his box of sketchbooks, the hundreds of iterations of your face, your hands, the trees lining the street on the way to your first apartment, her baby wrinkles.

“What else should we get for Beth?”

“Um.” Avery pauses, lifting her face to Steve’s. An odd feeling swells when he immediately looks up from the paper pad to meet her eyes. He smiles at her. She smiles back. “Why are we smiling?” she asks eventually.

“I’m just looking at you. You know you’re beautiful.”

“I don’t know!” she says, immediately flustered.

“Yes, you do. You’re sooo pretty, like mommy.” He reaches over to chuck her chin gently with his knuckle. “That’s why I’m smiling. Looking at you makes me happy.”

“Looking at you makes me happy.”

His chin tucks in gently. “It’s ‘cos we love each other.”

“Yes,” Avery says, like she’d suggested it herself. “That’s what it is.”

You feel Beth fall asleep though you can’t see her. She curls into you all warm and soft, her pyjamas and her hair tickling you, her soft snores damp against your shoulder. You press a kiss to her arm.

Laid to bed for the night, you dot another kiss onto Beth’s smooth forehead and turn out her light, shutting the door carefully so as not to make any noise.

Avery and Steve are still on the floor, though she’s climbed over the pad to hug him. They look funny, both on their tummies, Steve’s long legs out. He’s sort of curling around her, his nose to the side of her neck, his one arm up on an elbow and the other behind her back.

“I love you too,” he’s saying.

“A lot.”

“Yeah, Avery. So much they don’t have a word for it.”

“It’s a big feeling.”

“Love is the biggest feeling.”

She laughs as he starts to tip onto his side. One moment she’s on her belly and the next he’s pulled her onto his chest, totally corkscrewed her and then put her right. “Let’s stay here forever,” he says.

You’re pretty sure your father would’ve had a heart attack rather than confess he liked you. It’s a weird thing to know you’re loved —to be told you’re loved without being told, to expect it because you should— but to feel the absence of it more strongly. Your father never would’ve laid down with you like that. He wouldn’t have kissed you behind the ear, or talked about big feelings without hesitation. He never looked after you like that.

“Your back will hurt.”

“Avery, my back always hurts.”

“Not good. You can go to the hospital.”

“I don’t think I’ll go to hospital, I’ll,” —he feels you watching, and smiles at you as he tips his head to see you— “be okay without that. Maybe I’ll go to the doctor at his office instead.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He rubs her back. “Thanks, honey.”

Later, after you’ve knelt down to draw with them for a while and Avery’s succumbed to the childhood pain of feeling sleepy, you’re sliding clean towels onto a shelf in the linen closet with Steve beside you choosing new sheets for the next two (or four depending on how busy things get) weeks. It’s not work that needs talking, and after a few years together you start to run out of things to say, but you decide you’ll fill it anyway.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“You’re a good dad.”

Steve kisses your cheek, squeezing your arm as he bundles the new linens to his chest and passes back out of the closet. You follow him out.

“Hey, I mean it,” you say.

Steve looks at you in surprise. “Oh, sorry. That’s the miscommunication thing, right? I was supposed to say something, not just kiss you.”

“No, I don’t need you to acknowledge me, Steve.” You laugh softly, “Just need you to know. You’re such a good dad. It means a lot to me that you’re so good because I know they can feel it. The girls.” You clear your throat.

You hadn’t been expecting to get teary. Heat burns behind your eyes unbidden.

Steve’s eyebrows jump. “You’re upset?”

“It’s such a relief to know you’re you.”

And Steve must understand how you feel about it, his parents stunningly absent for the majority of his teen years and even now. You don’t see them much, but when you do you’re greeted with handshakes and strange looks, like this is a blip in both of your lives. Like somehow your children will grow themselves and Steve can be the man they wanted him to be. He knows what it’s like to be alone and not enough. To miss the mark. To physically feel the space between you and the person who should love you most.

He puts the linens on the end of the bed before standing in front of you. Your cheek is warm in his hand when he gives it a brief squeeze, your shoulder less so, your hand similarly cold. He threads your fingers together for a playful yank. “What are you thinking about?” he asks seriously.

“Avery’s never gonna question if you love her.”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“You’re very emotionally mature.”

“Wouldn’t say that.”

“Me neither.”

He looks tired tonight, hair falling into his eyes, t-shirt ill-fitting, rumpled at the hem, and his voice slightly scratchy as he murmurs, “Loving you makes me who I am, maybe you should be thanking yourself.” His lips twitch. “I should’ve said that at our wedding.”

“You should’ve, I bet your mom would’ve cried.”

“I doubt it.”

He opens his arms invitingly, and you fall into one another for a quick, tight hug. You’d been expecting a longer embrace with a sweeter touch, but you know why he’s doing it this way: he doesn’t want to cry before bed, and the wound of your absent parents is a weary one. It’s taken too much time and energy from you both already.

“Love you,” he says.

You weasel your head back to take him in, savouring the stretch of his hands behind your shoulders and his genuine smile. “Biggest feeling in the world,” you say.

“Liked that one?” he asks, encouraging your face back into his neck. “You gave me a family,” he adds, quieter, “I don’t really get how there are parents walking around who aren’t obsessed with their kids. I love them so much I can’t breathe sometimes. All i want is to make sure they know that… I was looking at Avery earlier and I couldn’t believe she was mine.”

“Steve.”

“I think she has my two moles on her cheek. That’s crazy.”

“What?”

You and Steve creep into her bedroom to investigate. Sleeping, she’s his carbon copy, and sure enough, on her right cheek just adjacent to her lips, she has two small moles just like him.

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wordbunch · 10 months

Text

how you pamper them when they're stressed/overworked

a/n: requested by the sweet @almost-gabrielle, i hope you enjoy it, and everyone else too - it's going to be GIGANTIC! 😍 be nice, cause I included some characters I haven't written much before (exciting!!!) and if you reblog with a comment or a nice tag... i'll love you forever! 💖 that means a lot, and i'm very grateful for all of it 🥰

ARAGORN: he actually feels like that quite often, but he’s incredibly good at hiding it. Luckily, you’re an expert in reading him like an open book, but oftentimes you need to literally physically drag him away from whatever he is doing (and he might complain as you do so). Aragorn just enjoys sometimes being quiet with you, and it’s usually what he needs when his mind is racing, or his body is overexerted. Or both. You can just lie down together and run your fingers slowly through his hair, and that will help him forget his worries at least for a little while. Secretly he is an absolute sucker for sweet, romantic confessions of love and affection, and he will melt if you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

LEGOLAS: something has to be extremely serious for him to feel that way, because his limits are very high; but in those moments he just wants to get away from everything as soon as possible and run to you, because with you the rest of the world just fades away. He enjoys an outing in nature, far away from real life, especially if the two of you find a nice lake or river to go for a swim in, and eventually act like a couple of children splashing and chasing each other. If that doesn’t help, he likes to sit in front of you and let you braid his hair as he talks about whatever is on his mind, and it also helps him physically relax to have you sitting behind and so close to him.

BOROMIR: this man will most likely push himself to his absolute limits, because he shoulders too much responsibility and feels pressured constantly to be on top of things. However, it’s easy to notice when he becomes a bit more irritable at one point, and then you know it’s time to talk him into taking at least a little break. That can be a slippery slope, because once he gets you alone for 5 minutes, it can very easily turn into 15 hours, and he would never finish anything. But on some days it’s just necessary - you sweet talk him into a cuddle session, during which he accidentally falls asleep with his head over your heart, or you make some tea with love as the special ingredient – and tell him that! He’s going to melt and finally, gratefully accept that his partner wants to look after him.

FARAMIR: much like his brother, he will probably suffer in silence, but you can’t miss his tired sighs every now and then, and the way he shuts his eyes and rubs his temples. If you hug him from behind, he will melt into your touch and lean onto you so much that you will almost topple over, but that will also make him admit to himself that he really needs a break. Run him a nice, hot bath complete with fragrant ingredients, and candles lit around it, and he will be forever grateful. If you don’t join immediately, he will very sweetly ask you to come with him because 'oh the bath is so big and so lonely' without one more person in it.

ÉOMER: this hardworking man is actually quite in touch with how he feels, both physically and emotionally, and he knows when things are becoming too much and he needs to step away for his own good. It is not unusual for him to go search for you and suggest that the two of you do something away from everyday life. Many times he doesn’t even suggest anything, he just follows behind you whatever you’re doing - taking a walk and admiring some trees in bloom? He’s right there holding your hand. Sitting on a balcony and reading? He will lay his head on your lap and ask you to read to him. And he is content just being present with you.

SAM: he gets both overworked and stressed quite often, poor thing. Make him something to eat and bring it outside while he’s working in the garden, and just have a spontaneous mini-picnic in the backyard. Although he’s very hardworking and persistent, over time he’s learned to accept your help and pampering, and he really really enjoys it too. If he is under mental stress, maybe you’ll need to push him a little bit to tell you what is on his mind, but once he does, he will gladly listen to your advice or any help you can give him.

FRODO: baby boy is in his head a lot and oftentimes he will accidentally create things to worry about, and he will just zone out. if he has a faraway look in his eyes, while doing nothing in particular, you can accurately guess what is up. He likes to feel useful, and he will gratefully accept if you ask him to help you with whatever you’re doing - it gives him an excuse to be kind and helpful, but also spend time with his favorite person. Especially if you’re organizing/re-organizing something, he will enjoy doing it with you, or cooking - he might not be the best at it, but he delights in giving you a hand, and he likes to learn and improve new skills anyway.

MERRY: he is actually much more of an overthinker than he seems to be on the outside, so stress sometimes just generates outta nowhere! Also he isn’t the biggest fan of physical labor out there, but he is a little bit of a show-off when it comes to you, and he will go above and beyond when helping you with something or doing something for you, until he can barely stand. Afterwards he will take pride in the fact that you had to force him to stop whatever he was doing, but he was simply being so very nice to his favorite person! Something he loves to do to unwind in those moments is just come up with random stories with you, the two of you taking turns making up characters and events. He is a little bit of a baby and he will just take your hand wordlessly and put it in his hair, because it feels nice when you run your fingers through it.

PIPPIN: he will either be stressing over very small, irrelevant things, or something absolutely terrible, no in-between. If it’s something small, he has no problem rambling about it to you, and that usually helps him sort things out; but if it’s something serious, he will grow quiet. The best thing you can do for him in those moments is distract him with a silly idea like “let’s go for a walk and find as many kinds of blue flowers as we can” or just straight up make him laugh - it’s the best medicine. He wouldn’t ask you directly to do it, but he’d love it if you could just hold him or cuddle him for a bit (he’s the little spoon of course).

BILBO: oh he will get worked up over a whole bunch of random things; and when he is working on something, he goes all in (and then has a random episode of doing absolutely nothing), so you need to be the one who grounds him in reality sometimes. Just don’t startle him when approaching him quietly. He is very responsive to your touch and he will just lean into you as soon as you’re near, almost forgetting about everything else. He adores it when you hold his face in your hands and he will look at you as if hypnotized while you comfortingly reassure him that everything will be alright and that he doesn’t have to do anything alone as long as you’re around.

FÍLI: he is very big on “strong protective independent dwarf” and sometimes he doesn’t fully allow himself to rest properly, or to process some things that are bothering him on the inside. However, at one point it will all have to culminate, and then his first instinct is to shut himself off. A guaranteed way to get through to him is to kiss him senselessly wherever you can reach and it makes him subconsciously relax almost immediately. He will kiss you back passionately which helps him eliminate some of the tension he’s feeling. Additionally, he will never ever say no to receiving a nice little massage from you.

KÍLI: oh he is quite proud of himself if he ends up overworking himself for you, as if it gives him bonus partner points. You will gently scold him for pushing himself too far, and then he will pout, but you know he still doesn’t regret it. Then he himself will drag you away for a cuddle session - he chose that as his reward for being the very best partner in all of Middle-earth - but you don’t have to exclusively cuddle. He finds it very relaxing if you sing something quietly to him and he will look up at you with shining eyes.

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wildernessuntothemselves · 6 months

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 7

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 9.8k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, dom!reader kinda, riding, blowjob, power play, descriptions of a horror movie, inaccurate portrayal of photographers and creative directors, lots of cute moments

You’re on set with the boys shooting promotional pictures for one of their new songs that Yeonjun insisted you'd be perfect for given your affinity for all things horror. It’s called Frost and the concept for the shoot is supposed to portray guys who are hearing voices in their heads trying to drive them mad and they are attempting to fight against them before ultimately succumbing to them, and so you’re doing shots of them getting swayed by the voices contrasting with others where they express fear about what’s happening to them.

Surprisingly all the boys suit the concept well, even sweet Hyuka was doing a remarkably good job. He was doing this manic laugh and shooting you evil looks that come out really well in the pictures.

“Wow, Hyuka. These are really awesome shots.” You say, showing him the camera and he laughs. “You sound surprised.”

“I actually am. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Well, you know I’m full of surprises, baby.” He winks, flustering you. Who the hell knew he had it in him?

“Don’t flirt with my girlfriend.” Yeonjun scolds, playfully smacking him.

“I’m just messing with her. You should’ve seen the look on her face.” Hyuka laughs his piercing laugh, as mischievous as ever, and you give him an indignant chuckle. “You little shit!”

You raise your hand into a fist, pretending to threaten him, and he bolts, yelling a panicked bye over his shoulder. You shake your head, staring at his retreating form with fondness.

You’re already done with Soobin and Taehyun’s shots, both of whom did really well too, but your favorite so far you have to say is Taehyun’s. The contact lenses you have him wear coupled with his naturally very intense gaze makes it so he doesn’t need to do much to come off as intimidating.

“Is it my turn yet?” Yeonjun asks, kissing your temple.

“No, baby, I’ve saved the best for last.” You coo, never missing an opportunity to compliment him, just so you can see the shy, pleased smile on his face, and he gives you just that. “Beomgyu is next.”

“Oh, are you going to be okay?” His smile falls and concern replaces it instead, making you roll your eyes. “He’s not going to eat me.”

“No, but I’m worried about you. You haven’t really talked to him for a while. Do you want me to come oversee the shoot?”

You kinda do. You are just acting strong for him. Fake it till you make it, right? He can’t hold your hand forever. “Don’t be silly. I know you’re starving. Go eat something and I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“But–” He’s interrupted by his own stomach growling and you laugh, leaning up to kiss him. “Go eat, baby.”

“Okay. I’ll be thinking of you.” He shouts as he leaves, bringing his hands together across his chest and mimicking a heart beating.

You laugh again at his antics, but quickly stop when your gaze lands on Beomgyu. He’s sitting by himself on one of the chairs, eyes glued to his phone and blocking everything else out. You walk towards him, clearing your throat. “Beomgyu. It’s your turn.”

He sighs, pocketing his phone and following you silently. You show him where he needs to stand before getting behind the camera.

“Beomgyu, I want you to lean onto the mirror and look into it, smiling menacingly as if you’re taunting your reflection. We’ll do another one after that of you looking terrified as if you’re trapped in the mirror. So you should play off that. Got it?”

He nods, resting his arm above the mirror and leaning forward, staring at himself with a smile.

“Okay, that’s not really what I’m going for. I’m not feeling any chills. I want a piercing gaze and a crazed smile. Try to have your mouth open as if you’re panting, like you’ve just won a fight. Don’t furrow your eyebrows and don’t tense up your shoulders.”

Beomgyu tries again, leaning his head down so he’s glaring up at the mirror and puts on a lopsided smirk. But you’re still not feeling it.

“You’re putting on an act, Beomgyu. I can see you thinking. I want you to really believe it. Wait.” You walk towards him, reaching up to fix his hair in the way you want. Or more like make it more messy and unhinged. “Let’s just push this over your eyes like this…”

You’re so used to doing this, you don’t even think about it, messing with his hair and making his makeup more smudged, streaking his eyeshadow here and blotting his lipstick there. It’s only when you’re done and realize he has been staring at you that you quickly step back. “There, all good.”

You try again and again with him, but none of the pictures come out like what you had in mind. You don’t get it. He’s usually much better than this. You’ve done plenty of shoots with him before, and he has never given you this much trouble. You keep trying to instruct him but his head doesn’t seem to be in it, too distracted by something else.

Normally, you’d ask him what he’s thinking about that got him so out of it but you don’t think you can. Things are too awkward for you and him right now and you’re not sure if opening that can of worms here is the best idea, which all just makes you even more frustrated.

“Beomgyu, the concept is mad not sad.” You sigh, annoyed after what must be the hundredth bad shot.

“Well, maybe if you gave better directions I would know what to do.” He snaps back, irritating you further. Beomgyu has never criticized your skills before and you don’t exactly take it well, the remark hurting more that it’s coming from him. He has always been a wall of unbending support for you so for him to call you out like this causes cracks in the very foundation of your sense of self worth.

“If my direction was bad then how come all the others had no problem following it?” You hiss, getting defensive to cover the cracks up, but you quickly back down when you see him opening his mouth to retaliate. You’re not going to get into it with Beomgyu right now. You’re at work. You can’t ruin this for yourself.

“Forget it. You’ve already wasted so much time. I’ll get around to you later.” You shut him down and walk off, not giving him the chance to argue.

Were you being short with him? Maybe, but you’ve wanted an opportunity like this for a long time and you were doing so well before him. You need to prove yourself. The boys are gaining more attention every day and this shoot could be really good for your career.

You also have a more personal reason to be snappy with him. After all, he has been avoiding you ever since you’ve admitted that you’ve slept the night with Yeonjun and you’re fucking bitter about that. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way and it’s driving you up the wall. You can take the pain of him not loving you back. You can take the pain of him getting angry at you for stupid reasons. But to ignore you? That you can't bear.

______________________________________

“Yeonjun, I need you to look more sharp. I want you to look at the camera as if you’re going to devour it. Don’t look so sweet. And move your right arm up like this.” You instruct him and he follows your lead flawlessly, so different from Beomgyu, and it slowly eases your nerves and allows you to get back in the mood.

“Good. Keep your head down and look up at the camera with your eyes. Smile a little, no, not too much. We want you to look crazy, but not funny crazy.”

He laughs at that, offended. “Hey!”

You snap a couple of pictures of him laughing. You know, just for your own personal collection. “Sorry, babe. There is such a thing as overdoing it.”

He pouts, acting sulky, and you take pictures of that too.

“What are you doing?” He raises an eyebrow and you blush. “Doing my job?”

“Those pictures would never make it as promotional pictures and you know it.” He calls your bluff and you shrug. “They can make it as my lock screen though.”

“I knew it. You’re so down bad for me.” He laughs and you scowl at him. “Shut up. Be professional.” You demand as if you weren’t using paid time to take pictures of your boyfriend for your own personal use.

“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes you, “Do you think I could play the song on my phone? It might help me get more into the character.”

“Sure, if you think it will help.”

He pulls out his phone and plays the song, closing his eyes for a second like he does before doing a dance routine, Kai’s manic laugh from the song ringing around the room before Yeonjun opens his eyes and looks at you, completely transforming in front of you.

“That’s really good. Keep going.” You encourage. You don’t even have to give him much direction after that, he does it on his own. You just give little modifications here and there but he’s embodying this concept so well by himself.

“Really lost my mind. Really, really, really lost it.” He mouths the words, pressing two fingers to his head in a trigger motion before rolling his head around.

“Remember to look at the camera, baby. Not all the time, I want some shots of you looking away so it seems I’ve caught you in the middle of it.” You keep shooting him, getting in different positions and angles to get the best shots as he gets into the music, channeling the darkness of it through him.

“Now, I want you to snap out of it. Look around as if you’re trying to find the source of the voice.” You instruct and he does it as if a switch had been flipped. He has such a talent for this. “Grab your head and stumble around a bit as if you’re losing your balance. Good.”

“Now look at the camera.” He looks up at you, eyes wide and filled with fear. You take a few shots before you lower the camera down. “Wow, baby, you did amazing. You’re such a good model.” You praise him and he gives you a lovely smile, completely changing his vibe once again and turning into the sweet boy that only you get to see.

You smirk, grabbing his chin and making him look at you. “Does someone like being told he’s a good boy?”

His breath hitches and his smile falls. Shit. You forgot that this is Yeonjun, not Beomgyu. He’s probably not into this. You let go of his chin and step away, an apology on your tongue, but he pulls you back, kissing you. “I do like it. Maybe when we’re done you can show me how much of a good boy I am?”

Relief soothes your racing heart and you reach up to run your hand through his hair, tugging on the bright orange mess. “Only if you behave.” You brush your lips over his neck, making him shiver.

“Guys, really? We have children present.” Soobin complains, pointing to Kai.

“Hey, I’m not a child!” Kai protests in turn, “But I’ll agree to act like a child if it will get those two to stop. Seriously you’re worse than Beomgyu and Haeun."

That last remark makes your face drop real quick. You're lucky Haeun was too busy to come to the shoot today. With how stressed you are, you might've snapped at her and Beomgyu and made a huge scene. You already almost did it with Beomgyu. You’re sure if she was here, you would’ve lost your cool.

“Sorry, guys.” You step away from Yeonjun, clearing your throat. You look at Beomgyu to see him staring right at you and Yeonjun, and if looks could kill, you and Yeonjun would be dead now… wait that’s it! That’s the look you want from him.

“Beomgyu, come with me. I think we can do your shots now.” You motion to him quickly, and Yeonjun gives you a confused look.

“He’s got the look I want from him. Be right back.” You explain to Yeonjun, getting up on your toes and giving him a quick kiss, partly because you love kissing Yeonjun’s plump lips and partly to annoy Beomgyu further and get him more mad in order to get the pictures you want.

___________________________

Things go much more smoothly this time. Beomgyu was giving you just the look you wanted, glaring at you like he actually wants to pounce on you. It’s great for the shoot, but bad for your heart.

“Now give me a smile.” You say and his lips move ever so slightly, shaped into a weird distorted smile that is so tense, it looks like it might snap into a snarl any second now. It’s the exact vibe you were going for and you didn’t even have to instruct him to do it. It was almost too spot on.

“Perfect. Now grab your neck as if you’re trying to claw something out, like you can’t breathe.” Even that he does perfectly, fingers digging into his neck as if he’s not worried about his well-being at all. He’s doing it so well that you only take a few snaps before stepping in to quickly stop him.

“Okay, that’s enough. We’re done here.” You can’t help but walk towards him, pulling his hand off his neck and inspecting the little marks he made there, smoothing your thumb over them as if you could make them go away.

“What, I don’t get a good boy?” He asks and you snap out of your worried daze, stepping back.

“Beomgyu…” You warn, annoyed at yourself for slipping. “Don’t start now.”

“I guess he’s your muse now.” He mutters, looking away, and you follow his gaze to see Yeonjun looking at you.

Is he? Yeonjun is a natural model–he has proven that today–while Beomgyu requires more prompting. Yeonjun is intense and chic while Beomgyu is ethereal and melancholic.They’re completely different from one another. Can you really compare them?

You guess that’s a lie. Yeonjun can embody whatever concept you give him, but Beomgyu inspires you to make new concepts. He’ll always be your muse.

You don’t tell him that though. It would only cause trouble. Instead, you deflect, “We need to do the group shoot now.”

You gather all the boys in one spot, posing them every which way you want, instructing them on where to look, how to stand and what expression to make. It’s a bit overwhelming making sure that they all look good at once, but you’ll have to get used to this if you wanna make a career out of it.

You’re almost done with the shoot and you’re so proud of how all of you have done so far. You just need a couple more pictures and that’s it.

“Soobin, look to the side and tilt your head a little to the right. No more. More. A little less. Yes, perfect! The rest of you stay like you are.” You take a few pictures like this, before you call out again, “Baby, look at the camera”

When you say that, both Yeonjun and Beomgyu turn their heads to face you, and an awkward moment of silence passes before you stutter, “Yeonjun… I mean. Look at the camera, Yeonjun.”

“Awkward…” Hyuka sings and Taehyun elbows him in the stomach.

You brush right past it, pretending that it didn’t even happen. Though your stammering and blushing doesn’t fool anyone. Thankfully though, it’s all over soon.

“Okay, boys, that’s it. We’re done!” You cheer, exhausted but happy and confident that you’ve gotten all the pictures you needed. “Anyone want to see some of the photos?”

They all gather to look at them with varying degrees of enthusiasm. As you scroll through the pictures, they oh and ah at their own shots while making fun of the others for any awkward ones. You expected nothing less from them.

“Hey, how come your boyfriend got all the best shots?” Soobin grumbles, and you roll your eyes. “He got all the good shots because he posed the best out of all of you.”

“Bullshit.” Taehyun interjects and Hyuka agrees, “Nepotism is what it is.”

“Shut up, Kai. That’s not even what nepotism means.”

“Oh yeah, then how come you gave him the best set and accessories?” He challenges and Yeonjun wraps his arm around you, “So what if she favors me? Are any of you giving it to her good every night? I don’t think so.” Yeonjun boasts, making you blush deeply.

Whatever reply you were going to make gets cut off by Beomgyu slamming his drink down and storming off.

“Someone’s in a pissy mood.” Taehyun mutters and Kai adds, “Probably pissed off that all the good shots went to the photographer’s boyfriend.”

“Drop it, Kai.” Yeonjun snaps and the younger guy raises his hands up in surrender.

“Ignore them, baby. I think all the shots are stunning.” Yeonjun says, holding you.

“You really think so?”

He nods, rubbing your arms soothingly, before grinning. “But mine are the best, of course.”

“You’re all assholes.” You grumble, pushing him away but inside you’re thankful he diffused the awkward situation.

“Let me make it up to you. You wanna grab something to eat? I’ll buy you your favorite fried crap.” He offers and you clap, excited. “Oh, yum!"

“Can I come too, baby?” Kai asks, making kissy faces at you before running away as Yeonjun takes off his shoe and throws it at him.

_________________________

“Junnie?” You call out and he blinks, looking up at you. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for a while now.”

“I’m just a bit worried.” He sighs, making you frown. “About what?”

“I think we’re really close to being signed. We’re having promising talks with a couple of record companies and the whole process is really stressed out.”

“But isn’t it a good thing?” You ask, confused. Didn’t the boys want to be signed for a long time? Is he having second thoughts?

“It is, but we all know the stories of artists getting scammed by companies and having their masters stolen, or having their creativity stifled by the execs, or losing their sound… as the front man I really wanna make sure to do this right. I don’t want to let my members down.”

“Oh, Junnie, I know you’ll do your best.” You reach out to grab his hand, squeezing in comfortingly. He’s such a good hyung to his members, always so reliable and trying to make everything easier for them so they don’t have to stress like him. “But you can’t put all of this on your shoulders only. The boys need to contribute to the decision too. After all, it’s their future too.”

“I know but it really bums them out thinking about all this. They’re here for the music, you know? Not the corporate dance.”

“Neither are you. They’re big boys. They can handle it. They need to do this too. They need to take on part of the responsibility.” Your hand moves up his arm, stroking it. It’s not fair for him to take on all this burden by himself. Besides, it’s not good in the long run. The boys need to make a joint decision or conflict and blame could arise later. “I can’t have you losing your hair over this. I don’t really like bald guys.”

Yeonjun gives you a betrayed look. “Hey! Are you saying you won’t be with me if I was bald?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You confirm and he scoffs, pretending to be offended. “You’re so fake.”

“Probably. But I took your mind off it for a second there.” You tease, using the same trick he used on you when you were crying.

“I think you’re gonna need to do a lot more to take my mind off it.” He tells you suggestively and you roll your eyes.

“Eat your heart attack-inducing food first, then we’ll talk.”

He grabs a drumstick and bites off a piece of it like he’s in a cartoon, making you burst out laughing.

"You know what I noticed?" He asks after chewing his food, and you hum in acknowledgement, prompting him to go on, "Your style has changed since we've started dating. It's become edgier and more trendy. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to impress me."

You blush, feeling caught. "Good thing you know better then."

"Well, since I know better, I won't say that I would find it really cute if you were trying to impress me or that it would make me feel really special."

"Well, if I were doing it to impress you, it would be because you're really special.” You say sincerely, looking him right in the eyes, before shrugging, “Luckily, this is all hypothetical."

You continue to stare at him as he laughs.

“What?” He asks, and you tell him, "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" He gives you a confused look.

"Laughing in that adorable way that makes your nose scrunch up and makes me wanna tackle you to the ground and kiss you all over your stupid face."

What happens next is so groundbreaking, you almost can't believe your eyes. You actually make him blush. And your stupid heart that has been beating non-stop for Beomgyu, falters in its incessant pace a second to let Yeonjun in.

___________________________

It’s going good with Yeonjun. Despite the flirty and confident persona he portrays for his fans, behind closed doors he’s shown you many sweet and shy moments. He’s attentive to you despite how busy he is with his career and his clear passion for music. And he’s really, really sexy.

Yes, his flirtiness can make you feel insecure sometimes and it does make you wonder if he’ll get sick of you one day and jump to someone prettier and new like guys in a band so often do, but you think you could overcome that feeling with time. You’re just being insecure. It’s part of his job. He’s not actually this cocky playboy. He has to act that way to bring in the fans.

Except he kind of is a playboy. He has dated many other girls before you and he has broken up with all of them. Who is to say that that won’t happen to you too soon? Who knows when he’ll get sick of you? Maybe he’s just waiting to scope out his next girlfriend before breaking up with you.

No, you’re being paranoid. He’s just entertaining his fans. It means nothing. Just because he dated a lot before you, doesn’t mean you’re just another notch on his belt. This doesn’t mean anything, especially not his innocuous interactions with his fans.

Yeah, you’re not bothered at all watching him deliver not-so-subtle pick up lines to his horde of fangirls and watching them giggle and swoon over him. You don’t care that he lets them touch him and hug him. You don’t even notice the panties they throw on stage for him or that they ask him to sign their bras. It’s all good.

“You okay, doll?” Yeonjun throws his arm around you, nudging you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t let me keep you from your girlfriends.” You mutter, pushing his arm off, and storming off. Okay, maybe you are a little bothered.

You hear footsteps behind you and quicken your pace but he catches up to you eventually. Damn his long legs. “Hey, hey, what was all that about?”

“This may come as a shock to you but I don’t exactly enjoy you flirting with other women.” You grit, your anger bubbling up in your stomach and forming acid around your bitter words.

“You know I’m just doing my job.” He defends himself and you scoff. “Your job is singing. Not getting their panties wet.”

“That is still part of the job. You think all those successful bands don’t get where they are by appealing to the fangirls? You really think it’s just about the music?” He may have a point but that doesn’t make you feel any better about his behavior. At the end of the day he is still acting inappropriately around girls who aren’t his girlfriend. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. Want me to go invite some of them back to your room for some quality fanservice?”

He laughs at that, and it’s far from the sweet laugh you adore. “You have no right to act jealous. Not when I have to watch you everyday staring longingly at your best friend. Your best friend who you live with and have messed around with before by the way. How do I know you won’t fall to your knees the moment he asks you to suck him off?”

"Fuck you, Yeonjun." You tear up at the unexpected attack, and turn around to leave. You can't believe he is throwing this in your face.

“Wait. I’m sorry.” He holds you back, brushing your hair away from your face and seeing the tears budding in your eyes. “I don’t mean to be an asshole. I know you don’t like the way I act but it’s my job. My livelihood depends on it. I’m not doing it just for fun. You know that.”

You look away, conflicted. Yes, you do know but that doesn’t make it suck any less. “Do you have to let it go that far though?” You pout, images of your boyfriend with his arm around random girls or letting them touch his face or hold his hand flashing behind your eyelids.

“I will try to tone it down.” He concedes and you finally look at him. “No letting them kiss you?”

“No.”

“No sexual innuendos?”

“No.”

“No signing their bras?”

“So just their breasts?”

You go to leave but he pulls you back flush against his body. “I’m kidding.” He kisses you and you reluctantly let yourself fall into the kiss. God, why do you pick the hardest boys to love?

Speaking of which…

“And I’m sorry for what I said about Beomgyu. I trust in you not to do that just as you trust in me not to cheat. But I’m not sorry about the part where I don’t like you living together.”

“What?” Your frown. What is he trying to say?

“You’re in love with the guy. Living with him won’t allow you to move on. You need to move away from him to let us move on.” He clarifies, not really making it easier for your brain to compute.

“Oh."

"We can never move forward in our relationship if you're holding onto him." He presses, seeing your resistance to his words. “Come live with me. Leave whatever this thing you have with him in the past and take the next step with me.”

"But he's my best friend. We promised each other we'd stay together." You say as if that means anything to him, and the look he gives you is what an adult would give to a naive child thinking their family pet really went to live on a farm. "Are you going to live together even when both of you are married?"

"No. But it's too fast. He's so freaked out about everything changing. This is gonna send him into a breakdown." You resist still, maybe because some of what you’re saying applies to you too. You’re not sure if you’re ready to do this.

"Don't you think that's a little weird?” Yeonjun challenges your statement, forcing you to examine your unusual situation with Beomgyu for the first time. “You two have an unhealthy attachment to each other. You’re not together and believe me no boyfriend or girlfriend is gonna tolerate how you two are acting. I know I can't."

But you can’t think about it too deeply right now, not on the spot like this, not when there is a plain threat in his words. "Are you giving me an ultimatum?"

"No. I'm just asking you to set some boundaries."

Is that the same thing? You sigh. "Can you… just give me some time to think it through?"

Yeonjun doesn’t like that. "You know I'm right."

"Please."

What he’s asking you is huge. With how Beomgyu isn’t talking to you, moving out of the apartment might spell complete doom to your friendship, and you don’t know if you are ready to risk that yet. Maybe you can work it out while still living with Beomgyu. Maybe you can find a way to move forward with Yeonjun while still retaining your friendship with Beomgyu.

"Fine." Yeonjun backs down for now, but this is clearly not the end of it.

____________________

When you get home, you find a strange surprise waiting for you… A pillow fort?

"What's this?" You ask Beomgyu suspiciously and he beams at you, pulling you towards the structure he made. "Come on in. Come on in!"

You let him take you inside with him, seeing it lined with pillows and soft fuzzy blankets and all kinds of snacks you could ever need. The only light illuminating the inside coming from the small laptop filled with movies for you to watch.

"What's all this for?" You ask, very confused at the sudden change in his attitude. What has gotten into him?

"Well, I know I've been an ass–"

You don't mean to snort but you can’t help it–interrupting him–and he shoots you glare, albeit a playful one.

"I know I've been an asshole," He repeats, not deterred. "But I was worried about what Yeonjun was gonna do to you and I was frustrated you weren’t listening to me. I’ve seen him blow through girlfriends many times before–maybe not in a way that is meant to intentionally hurt them but he just doesn’t seem to be ready for something serious yet. It always seemed like the girls were way more into him than he was into them and that eventually leads to the relationship breaking down and the girls getting hurt and I didn’t want that to happen to you. I didn’t want you to get hurt like that.”

His words echo your own doubts. You’ve been wondering about this exact yourself. Yeonjun is great. He’s fun and sweet and he makes you smile, but if you let yourself fall for him, will he be able to love you too?

Is that even a fair question to ask? Doesn’t everyone go into relationships not knowing if the other person will end up liking them the same amount? And can you really be the one wondering about this when you’re the one in love with your best friend?

You don’t say anything though, just letting Beomgyu continue, curious about where he is going with this. “But in my attempt to try to prevent that I've stupidly gone and hurt you myself. I got angry and vindictive and I lost sight of what I was trying to do… I also was being selfish because I didn’t want to lose you to him. I’m so used to it just being the two of us and it made me a little jealous that suddenly he’s taking all your time and attention. I used to be your number one guy.”

You look at his pout, trying miserably to fight down the tears his words are springing up. He is still your number one. That’s the problem.

“You said all of this already.” You say quietly, looking down and trying to hide your glossy eyes from him.

“I know, but what I didn’t say is that I don't know if Yeonjun will stay like this forever or if he's going to break your heart and force me to cut his balls off, but I wanna be there regardless.” He proclaims, sounding exactly like the best friend you terribly missed, the obvious joke not taking away from the seriousness of what he’s saying. “I don’t want to lose you over this. I want us to go back to how we were before all this mess. Do you think we can do that?"

You look up at him, his pretty face shimmering and swimming around in your tearful vision, making his already ethereal features appear celestial. He looks at you as if you could ever deny his request. How can you ever say no to him?

"Yes, Beommie." You finally say, letting the tears fall.

"Hey, hey…" He coos, grabbing your face and kissing your tears away. "Don't cry. You know seeing you cry will just make me cry too."

“I can’t help it. I missed you, you idiot.” You wail, and he pulls you into his arms, rocking you back and forth and rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too. So much. You don’t even know.” You hear his voice falter and you know he’s crying too.

You stay there for a while–you don’t know how long–until you and him have calmed down enough to be able to string together words again. He’s the first to pull back, but only so he can look you in the eyes.

“You look so pretty when you cry.” He whispers, wiping your tears away and you cover the way your heart skips a beat at that with a cough, pushing him away to give yourself room to breathe in something that isn’t him.

“Shut up.” You mumble, wiping your tears away with your sleeve before looking around awkwardly, trying to change the subject. “So what movies do you have for us?"

Thankfully, Beomgyu follows your lead. "Top gun of course!'

You groan.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. I got you one of those foreign horror movies you love so much." He shows you that he chose a French movie called Martyrs.

"Aw, you really do love me." You exclaim, covering your heart with your hand.

“I know. I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” He mutters, sitting down and motioning for you to do the same. You sit down next to him, leaving a small gap between you.

“Hey, what are you doing?” He asks, and you look at him in confusion. He rolls his eyes and opens his arms to you. “You can’t have Movies and Cuddles Monday without the cuddles.”

You hesitate for a second, wondering if you really should do this. Is this too intimate? Would this be considered cheating on Yeonjun?

No, you’re being ridiculous. People cuddle with their best friends all the time. You can do that.

“Right.” You get into his embrace, and he holds in in both arms.

“Okay, let’s start the massacre.”

_____________________________

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Beomgyu groans, burying his face in your neck as screen shows the main lead being flayed alive.

“Well, don’t do it on me!” You squeak, trying to pull away to hide the goosebumps that have erupted on your skin when his lips brush against you, but he’s holding onto you too tightly. “Don’t go. You made me see this. I’m traumatized.”

“You’re the one who picked the movie.”

“Because I wanted to satisfy your blood thirst.” He mumbles and you laugh. “I don’t even like gore. I prefer the subtly creepy.”

“Yeah like that game you like where the character takes a pill and entrails fall from the sky.”

“Hey, entrails can be subtle.” You grumble, relaxing back in his arms. “Now shut up. I wanna see the ending.”

Beomgyu sits in silence, holding onto you tightly as the character called Mademoiselle leans over the flayed woman to hear what she has to say after achieving martyrdom. You watch with bated breath, not feeling any of the anxiety you’re supposed to feel as the cult members ask the Mademoiselle what the main character told her–too relaxed with the way Beomgyu massages your scalp with his fingers. If you were a cat, you’d be purring right now.

Even Beomgyu keeps his mouth shut as the Mademoiselle grabs a gun and shoots herself, taking the secret with her to the grave–the both of you seeming to be in a trance. It’s only when the credits roll does he speak up.

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell us the secret to the afterlife.” Beomgyu complains softly, not making any move to disentangle you from his arms,and neither do you.

“Yeah right, like they would tell us the secret to the afterlife.” You snort at your naive friend, “Besides the movie isn’t about that.”

“Yeah, and what is it about, genius?” He challenges.

“Um, it’s clearly about the exploitation of the working class so the rich can achieve knowledge and even more power–no it’s about the exploitation of women of the working class.”

“You just pulled that out of your ass.”

“Maybe. But that could be right.” You shrug, your shoulder once again brushing against his lips. “Do you have a better theory, idiot?”

“Yeah, my theory is that the director just wanted to make the most disgusting movie possible and made up this whole martyrdom story to justify the torture inflicted on the characters, and that’s why he couldn’t come up with an actual answer to what happens after death.”

“Maybe that’s the point. We were never meant to know the answer. Knowing the answer renders life and its struggles meaningless. That’s why the Mademoiselle killed herself.”

“Or maybe Anna told her a lie that she knew would fuck her up and get her to kill herself. Perfect revenge.”

“That doesn’t make sense. At the start of the movie we see that when Lucy got revenge on one of the families, it still wouldn’t make her guilt go away so clearly the movie views revenge as a non-viable option.”

“Hey, when did you become so smart? I thought Movies and Cuddles Monday was supposed to be about mindless consumption of media and making stupid jokes about plots we’re not smart enough to comprehend.” He looks at you in suspicion and you meekly answer, “I may possibly have started reading some books–”

He gasps. “Books? Dear lord, save us.”

“You’re just worried you’ll stay the only dumb one.” You poke his nose teasingly and he tries to bite your finger, making you withdraw it with a giggle.

“Doesn’t matter. Smarts are for ugly people. I’m too pretty.”

You smile fondly. “Yes, you are.”

He wraps his arms around you even tighter, letting out a small contented hum as the credits roll, neither of you moving to start another movie or turn off the computer. How can you when it makes you feel so safe and content, like you could want for nothing else in the world as he strokes your hair with one hand and your arm with the other.

Every emotion you've been working so hard to smother comes roaring back. And you realize that you and Beomgyu are not just friends. Probably can never be just friends. This is why Yeonjun insisted you move out. You can't be this close to Beomgyu without falling back into your old habits. If you wanna give Yeonjun an honest chance, you need to get some space.

“Beomgyu… do you ever think about living with Haeun?”

He frowns. “Why? Did she say anything to you?” You almost laugh at his look of terror. Almost. If you weren’t so terrified of what you have to say to him.

"Yeah she told me on one of our weekly get togethers." You snort, then hesitate. “It’s just… Yeonjun wants me to move in with him.”

He pulls away from you, face hardening, and your body is suddenly left defenseless against the cold chill in the air. "What did you tell him?"

You want to tell him that you said No. You want him to take you back in his arms. Even if he doesn’t love you back, this can be enough for you, right? "I said I'd think about it."

"Think about what? This is way too soon. You can't just move in with him. What if you break up? Then you'd be left homeless because you were so stupid as to move in with a guy you've only been dating a few months."

His anger is like lashings to your cold skin. Why does he keep doing this to you, making you let your guard down before attacking you once more? Does he not know how hard this is for you too? "Beomgyu, you said you weren't going to be an asshole anymore."

"I just don't understand why you'd do something like that." His frustration is palpable. He is looking at you as if you’re just doing this to hurt him.

"Because Yeonjun doesn't like me living with you after we messed around."

You shouldn't have said that. That just makes him angrier. "And you’re just going to do whatever he tells you to do? Are you one of those girls who does everything her boyfriend tells her?"

His accusation pisses you off. He’s treating you like you’ve committed a crime for wanting to move forward with your boyfriend. "No, but he has a right to be weirded out by us living together. I know I wouldn't be happy about him living with a girl he hooked up with."

"Oh yeah, and what's next? He's too weirded out by us hanging out? Talking? Looking at each other?"

"You're being overdramatic."

"Am I?" He shouts, “This is why I didn’t want you to date him. He is taking you from me.”

The fucking audacity for him to say this as if he hasn’t been terrible to you ever since you started even expressing interest in Yeonjun. This would never have happened if he had been an actual goddamn friend to you.

“He isn’t taking me from you. You’re pushing me away.”

“You know he’s only going to hurt you?” He says, hitting you right where it hurts. It’s one thing for you to doubt your relationship with Yeonjun, but it’s another thing entirely for your friend and his to keep telling you that it’s never gonna last.

Does he really have no faith in you? Does he not think you’re pretty enough, good enough to keep yeonjun’s attention? Does he think it’s impossible for Yeonjun to actually love you?

You start tearing up again. "Why are you being like this?"

“Because it’s what he is. You’re making a huge mistake. You're choosing this guy you just started dating over our years of friendship."

You shake your head. "Why does it have to be either or. Why can’t I have my boyfriend and my best friend?"

He lets out a condescending laugh. “I’m not the one making you choose!”

But he is. He has been making you choose since the beginning. He just doesn’t like it because for once you’re not putting him and his ridiculous demands first.

“He is not making me choose.” You defend Yeonjun and yourself. “He just doesn’t want us to live together.”

“You really think he’ll end it at that? You don’t think he’ll demand more bit by bit? Next it will be ‘I don’t like him touching you.’ then it will be ‘don’t hang out with him so much’ and then ‘why do you even need to see him. We can just stay in.’ and before long he’ll have completely phased me out!”

“Well maybe there should be some boundaries. We did hook up together. It’s normal for him to feel insecure. And maybe we’re a bit more touchy than other friends are. Maybe I should only be cuddling with my boyfriend and that only my boyfriend should be kissing me…” You’re saying this more to yourself than to him. Even what happened earlier wasn’t really appropriate. It could be for completely platonic friends but you know that’s not what you and Beomgyu are. Not for you, at least.

“See? It’s already happening!” He exclaims, and you sigh. There is no point arguing with him. He’s too upset to see reason. “I’m sorry, Beomgyu…”

"Forget it. Forget all of this." He stands up and takes the pillow-fort apart. "Enjoy living with your boyfriend."

__________________

You quickly gathered a few essential items that you'll need along with a change of clothes before you texted Yeonjun to come pick you up. You'll get the rest of your stuff later. You just can’t handle being in this house anymore.

"Are you okay?" Yeonjun asks when you get into his car.

"Yeah, it's just Beomgyu is really mad at me." You sniffle, trying to hold back your tears.

"Of course. That fucking idiot." Yeonjun curses and you agree. "Such an idiot."

"Want me to go beat him up?" He offers but you shake your head. "I really don't think you two having a cat fight is gonna lift my spirit up."

"Hey!" He shouts, offended, but he can't help but give you a smile–his sweet smile that you love so much.

"But that might." You smile back, wiping your nose before bending over to give him a kiss.

"Didn’t know I'd be eating snot today." He says as he pulls back and you smack him. "I wiped before I kissed you!"

He laughs and tries to kiss you again but you push him away. "No. I've revoked your right to kisses."

“Is that so?” He quirks an eyebrow up and you nod, indignant.

"And what if I told you I have some great news that will make you wanna kiss my face off?"

“What?” You look suspiciously at the massive grin on his face. "You know the director of Elements magazine?"

"Do I? Of course! She's one of my inspirations." You gush, excited at what he could possibly have to say about her.

"Well, I've been talking to her about you–"

"What?” Your face falls, terrified. “What–what would you talk to her about me for?"

"She's interested in your work." He tells you and you give him an unflattering snort in disbelief. "Yeah, right. What do I have to show her?"

"She's actually seen the shoot you did with us and would like you to send her more of your stuff because she thinks she may want you to do a pictorial for the magazine."

“Shut up.” You gape at him. You? Do a pictorial for Elements magazine? "Oh god, I think I'm gonna pass out."

“Please, don’t. I don’t know how I’d be able to explain why I have a passed out girl in my car to anyone who saw.”

You shoot him a glare, but there is no heat behind it. "How do you even know her?”

"I've done some modeling for her before." He shrugs as if that isn’t a big fucking achievement, "I told you, networking is everything."

"You're amazing." You breathe out in awe.

"I know." He replies confidently and you suddenly shriek, kicking your feet in excitement. "Oh my god, I can't believe she liked my stuff!"

"Why wouldn't she? You’re great." You turn to him, a huge smile on your face before you bend over the console and give him a big kiss. "You are so getting laid."

"That's why I did it." He jokes, starting the car before pulling out of the parking spot.

___________________

"Welcome home." Yeonjun says, putting your bag down in his bedroom.

Yeah, you guess this is home now. You look around, trying to process the fact, and Yeonjun comes up behind you to wrap his arms around you. “You can redecorate a bit if you want. I’ll give you a whole corner of the room.”

You turn around in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “You’re very generous.” You kiss him slowly, deepening the kiss as you go, pushing your tongue into his mouth as your lips move against each other. “My good boy.”

“Oh, are we doing this?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You deserve it.” You push his jacket off before slipping his white tank top over his head. As soon as his chest is bare, you attack your lips to it, kissing it all over. Your lips tingle as it comes in contact with his warm skin over and over again and you feel his little moans vibrating through his chest as he slowly gives into the pleasure, shivering a bit when you wrap your lips around one of his nipples.

Your hands trail down his body, grabbing at his waist on the way, kneading it, before moving to his pants. You unbutton and unzip them slowly, rubbing the back of your hand over the bulge there, making his breathing stutter.

“Baby…” He pouts at your teasing, and you lean up to give his pretty lips a kiss.

“Want it, darling?” You ask, continuing to brush your hand over him teasingly and he nods. “Okay. Just because you’ve been so good to me.”

You put your hand in his boxers and pull out his cock, stroking it to full hardness while kissing his addictive lips.

“You’re so good to me, Yeonjun. You deserve to be pampered.” You tell him, twisting your hand over the head of his cock as your lips go down his neck and along his chest until you have to get on your knees to go further. You kiss his abs gently before opening your mouth and giving his skin a playful nip which makes him jump.

“Hey, that’s not pampering.” He protests and you laugh, licking the reddening spot soothingly as you continue to tease his dick with your hand.

“I was just thinking about how you seduced me with this at the party.” You tell him and he grins. “So I was–ahh–right? It was my rock–fuck–hard abs that got you?”

It’s hard for him to keep a straight face when your fingers are twisting so sinfully around his hard cock. “Maybe I ran into you on purpose t-to–shit–give me the chance to take off my shirt in front of you.”

“Diabolical.” You hum, kissing all over his tummy, getting closer and closer to his aching cock before moving up again, just to tease him, then repeating the process all over again until he starts dripping in need.

“Baby, please…” He finally calls out when he becomes so needy that your palm gets all sticky with his arousal.

“I got you, baby.” You finally take him into your mouth, the taste of him familiar by now.

Over the few months you’ve been dating Yeonjun, you’ve gotten very acquainted with what he likes and how he likes to be touched. You learn what makes him tick and where he is sensitive. It’s no longer entirely nerve-wracking to be with him. There are some things you can do and say that you can rely on that are guaranteed to get him in the mood

But today is different. You’ve never tried to take the lead from him before. In a way, you’re both more confident and more nervous–more confident because you know how to do this better, you’ve done this a lot with Beomgyu… and more nervous because you’ve never done it with Yeonjun. What if he doesn’t like it?

Your movements are slow, meant to tease and build up rather than push him over the edge. Your tongue swirls slowly around his flushed head and laps up any precum leaking from his slit while your thumb and index finger make a circle around his cock and slowly move up and down the bottom of his shaft, working him up until he’s begging again.

“More–please, I need more.” He breathes, voice tight and needy.

It’s a lot different from Beomgyu… If it was Beomgyu, he’d be crying and whining loudly, his mouth spouting off all kinds of filth in an attempt to get you to throat his dick. He’d be squirming and trying to push his dick further down your mouth, bucking his hips into your hand so you’d jerk him off faster…

But Yeonjun is not Beomgyu. He stands there, as still as he can, and lets you do what you want.

Only interrupting with a quiet plea when he can’t take it anymore. Is that better? Is it worse? You don’t know. All you know is that you need to get Beomgyu out of your mind, stop comparing them. Yeonjun is yours, Beomgyu is not. Yeonjun is here for you to touch and taste and feel, Beomgyu isn’t. Yeonjun has opened his heart up to you, and it’s insulting to think of another guy when you’re with him.

So you get off your knees and kiss Yeonjun, letting yourself focus on him and only him. You push the rest of his clothes off his body, and let him do the same to you, letting his hands wander and squeeze and caress as he does so–because you’re his.

You lead him towards the bed, pushing him on it and climbing on top of him, lining yourself up with his hard cock before catching his gaze, seeing the way he lies still and waits for you to do, before you sink down on him.

He lets out a deep sigh when you’re seated on his hips, his cock buried all the way inside you.

“This what you wanted, darling?”

He nods, resting his hands on your thighs, not pushing or pulling, just letting you take your time. Is it a sign of patience and letting you take the lead or is it a lack of passion and indifference? These are the thoughts that plague you.

But you’re too much of a coward to ask, so you just lift yourself up and fall down on his cock, establishing a steady rhythm. He lets out quiet moans and pants, responding to the way your hips move and your pussy works over his cock, his eyes alternating from staring at your form to rolling into the back of his skull when the pleasure becomes too much.

“Is it good?” You ask and he nods. “So good.”

Still restrained. Still subdued. But you take it. You take it and you run with it, bouncing faster on his cock, your gaze stuck to his face, eating up every little twitch and sigh that escapes him, so focused on him that you neglect your own pleasure, only noticing when his right hand brushes up your thigh and his thumb grazes your clit.

“What are you doing, baby?” You ask, hand circling around his wrist but not pulling it away.

“Don’t wanna cum alone. Want you with me.”

Is it really you domming him if he can still do whatever he wants? You don’t know but you don’t have to decide right now. You can just take it slow. You can work things out the kinks bit by bit.

“That’s a bit quick, don’t you think?” You venture to tease him, hoping he’d give you the response you’re looking for, and he does… somewhat. “Can’t help it. You just look so sexy bouncing on my cock. You should dom me every day.”

You groan, thighs burning as you ride him faster, needing him to really mean it. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Like what?” He purrs, his thumb still circling your sensitive nub.

“Like you’re still in control.” You finally push his hand away, pinning his arms next to his head, but maddeningly, he just smirks up at you.

“You want the control, you’re going to have to take it, doll. I am not going to just show my belly and give you the lead so easily.”

“You’re insufferable.” You hold his wrists with one hand and use the other to wrap around his throat, not cutting off his circulation but just holding it tight enough to make a point.

“That’s more like it.” He gasps, craning his head back to give you an easier purchase on his neck. “I’m close.”

“Why should I let you cum?” You challenge, digging your fingers just a little more into his neck, clenching your pussy just a little tighter around his cock.

“Because you like it when I empty my balls inside your little pussy.” He sucks in a sharp breath, his control slipping just a little bit, and you latch onto that.

“I do like it, but what I like more is making bad boys cry.” You threaten, slowing down your movement until you’re barely riding him. “I’m sure it would feel just as good getting off your cock and making myself cum on my fingers. Just seeing your needy cock all hard and red with no relief would be more than enough to get me off.”

He frowns. “You wouldn’t…”

You make a show of getting off his cock and he quickly cries out. “No, wait. Okay. You win. I’ll be good.”

You raise an eyebrow at him before going back to riding him fast, not giving him the chance to challenge you again. “Well, that was easy.”

He does well by shutting up this time, his full lips pulled into a hilarious pout.

“Are you close?” You ask him when his eyebrows begin to furrow and he nods. You let go of his wrist, telling him to keep them there as if you could’ve stopped him if he wanted to overpower you.

You use your now free hand to rub your clit, pushing yourself towards your own high.

Yeonjun doesn’t like that. “I could do that for you.”

He tries to reach out to touch you but you let go of his throat and swat his hands away. “No. Only good boys get to touch.”

He gives you a little whine–a semblance of what you crave from him. Maybe the rest will come in time.

“I’m close.” You tell him, fingers desperately moving over your pussy as you ride him. “Want you to cum with me.”

He nods, his hips moving for the first time under you, helping the both of you over the edge.

“Yeonjun–fuck!” You throw your head back, eyes squeezed tight as your body shudders with release. Yeonjun hands reach out to hold your hips flush against his as he empties himself inside you, a long groan slipping from his pretty lips.

“Fuck.” You gasp, falling down when your orgasm leaves you, and Yeonjun opens his arms to take you in, holding you close to him, your hearts beating rapidly still.

This whole day has been an emotional rollercoaster for you, and the release of pent up energy leaves you spent, your body all but becoming boneless in Yeonjun’s embrace.

He kisses the top of your head, his hand smoothing through your wet hair as the both of you catch your breath. You feel your eyelids getting heavy with exhaustion, the heat of his embrace now a familiar night-time companion, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you again for choosing me for the Frost shoot." You mumble, eyes closed. He may have just changed the whole trajectory of your career.

"No need to thank me. It was all Beomgyu's idea."

____________________

A/N: one more chapter to go. as always your feedback makes me update faster so don't be shy to drop in a message. the author note in the last chapter will contain a link to my patreon for the alternative ending for the losing boy so look forward to that

and for the final time

Taglist: @blxxsss@sanasour@tinkw1nks@lol6sposts@zuzuhasablog@beomsl@seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout@wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno@leviathanlee26@yomomas-stuff@kurisaiyunobara@girlwholovekpop@zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop@skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #fem!reader #dom!reader

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palajae · 11 months

Text

love me (k)not. | 1k special

PAIRING ▸ niki x reader, slight jungwon x reader

GENRE ▸ soulmate! au, string of fate! au, photographer! au, childhood-friends-to-lovers, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WORD COUNT▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ yes, niki can see the red string of fate that connects two people together. and no, he can’t just tell people who their soulmate is. you’re his only friend but there’s one problem and he can see it quite clearly (and literally)- your string isn’t connected to his.

AKA a reality check that niki loves you, no matter what the universe says.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of bullying, slight violence, child experimentation, food, drinking/alcohol (but only with an aged up riki and reader!!), kissing, jungwon being a jerk for a little :(

hi guys did anyone miss me :) it’s been a long ride but due to popular request for longer oneshots here is a very long one that i basically died over! i really hope you guys enjoy it as i worked super hard, and thank you guys again for 1k (more like 1.2k now but) ily 🩷

i. one string, two strings, red strings, new strings.

he doesn’t know when it really started. it simply happened one cloudy afternoon. and it’s not like the subject was completely foreign to riki, oh no, he had definitely heard tales from older people about the topic.

unfortunately for him, it just had to be when he was a mere seven year old. ‘it’ meaning the delicate and thin red strings— almost identical to the yarn his grandma would use for knitting—appearing all around him, encasing him in a world like a spy in a laser trap trying to escape with their precious treasure.

tiny riki frowned, glancing around while still having a tight grip on his mother’s hand in order not to get lost in the vast mall they were currently shopping at. his attention was suddenly caught, eyes focusing on the larger hand he was still holding onto. more specifically, the pinky finger of his mother’s right hand.

a perfect little knot wrapped around her smallest finger.

his eyes followed the string, but it traveled quite far through the crowd of people and he eventually gave up, the string pulling farther than he thought. later would he really figure out the meaning of this, but at the time, he simply tugged on his mother’s shirt, attracting her attention. she glanced down, answering her child with a hum.

cautiously, riki took a quick peek around at the passerby’s, confirming what he saw on what seemed to be about everyone else’s hands as well, almost getting lost in the maze of the red before his eyes flicked up to her.

“what are the red strings for?”

his mother raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to hear better. “what? repeat what you said, riki.”

he stood up straighter, clearing his throat. “i said, what are the red strings on everyone’s hand for?”

riki’s mother paused, a train of thoughts running through her head. once an answer finally appeared, she attempted to calm her suddenly racing heart before squatting down and leaning even closer to her son. she looked him carefully in the eye, and riki can still remember the movement of her lips speaking clearly and slowly, the words that left her lips that day and changed his life forever.

“just like the ones grandpa told you about?”

he remembers exactly what he responded back with.

“yes.”

they went to the doctors eventually for assistance. riki now knows it would’ve been inevitable, and perhaps earlier was better than later.

the doctor returned back with what seemed like an impossible diagnosis: riki can see people’s red strings of fate.

their soulmate connections.

then came the questions, tests, experiments. it lasted for a long time in little riki’s head, and it was indeed a long time for a child. several years- five to be exact. five years spent in a lab, all in solitude, to be kept under control and monitored over time.

riki remembers the overwhelming amount of people. people like the scientists with the tidy white coats and glasses who came in and took his blood or ran tests on his eyes and brain. he also remembers the average people who would occasionally come in, usually a man and woman looking quite anxious and timid, and who would sit down in front of him, both hands clearly in sight of riki.

every time, as if it was natural instinct, his eyes would flick down to their right hand, spotting the tied knot on their pinky. then a scientist would ask questions-

do you see a red string? yes.

can you see who it is connected to? yes.

is it to each other?

yes—most of the time. occasionally, he would answer no with a shake of his head. there was always the variety of responses from the people. a gasp, crestfallen look, maybe even tears. whispers and murmurs would come from the white coated people as they wrote stuff down.

riki was confused. did being soulmates really matter when most people (meaning everyone except riki) never had to ability to see who their soulmate was anyways? people fell in and out of love, regardless.

the lab came up with a final conclusion: most likely, nishimura riki could indeed see people’s soulmates through their red strings. he couldn’t touch the red strings, it was like they were just imaginary, only visible to him. but they had no idea how, but they knew he could see them and if they were connected or not in accordance with his field of vision.

most would think he was just a kid faking it—with a great deal of imagination—but his accuracy of determining two people’s soul connection was a little too frightening to be a childish prank.

form what riki overheard, the government planned to keep his special “power” a secret. after all, riki was just a kid. public knowledge only meant trouble and who knew what else. half argued to leave the poor kid alone, while others vouched to keep him under surveillance for the rest of his life.

either way, riki was forced to keep his mouth shut about his ability—not that he wouldn’t have wanted to say anything anyway.

of course, rumors and secrets still leaked out, but for the most part, riki seemed to be safe. maybe a little too safe. he didn’t really have friends. no, he didn’t have friends at all.

personally, the imaginary ones appearing in his years of loneliness didn’t count. riki possessed a power the world had never seen before, but he had no friends. no childhood. no life.

after five years of living alone in a laboratory surrounded by white lights, white clothes, and more white walls, riki was finally released when the government reached a dead end in their research. how much power could a kid with soulmate seeing abilities wield? the government hoped it was close to none. besides, no one knew when he could get called in again.

his parents? yes, he supposed they did love him. but enough to keep him from being tested on for years and not having a proper life? other would argue it was for the benefit of his “special ability.”

research gave answers that in reality, didn’t have any use. (his parents wouldn’t mention the copious compensation fee the government gave for testing on their son, though).

and riki’s red string himself?

he had to admit, when he was first discovering his newly identified ability, he was also curious about who his soulmate could be. and like many, many others when he took a peek, the string just carried on in the distance, unable to display the carrier of the other end.

once riki was back in the “real world,” he was kept mostly at home during the heat of the summer. but he would always remember the feeling of being taken out of his room and directed outside into a dark, heavily guarded vehicle for occasional checkups. he remembers glancing outside while driving past tall buildings and sometimes seeing countless red strings pass him by, a sight he hadn’t seen since going to the mall with his mother all those years ago.

his mother walked into his room one day with a clean, white envelope in her hands and an unreadable expression on her face. he looked up from his hands, eyes catching her red string hanging again before looking at his mother fully.

“you’re attending a new school, riki.”

ii. eros and psyche.

the cursed rules echo in his mind. they were pretty simple, yet held the heaviest consequences.

don’t tell anyone about your abilities.

especially don’t tell anyone about their soulmate.

it wasn’t his choice to. it’s not like he wanted to, either. even at the mere age of twelve, riki wasn’t one to mess with fate or whatever the universe was doing to him. the red lines invaded his personal space, but at some point it didn’t bother him anymore.

what really bothered him was the daunting task of attending school. learning in person, having homework, interacting with others.

riki was educated at the labs, but that schooling came in the form of simple workbooks and videos.

needless to say, the first few days were rough.

quite hard.

very hard.

waking up early probably got riki the most. being surrounded by so many other kids was quite overwhelming. especially when they stared at him whenever he passed by like he was different.

which, he was.

everyone else had established their respective friend groups already. he learned why pretty early on, though. why the weird looks and gossip passed by him. it was all because of one girl who just really couldn’t whisper for her life. (even without confirming or denying it, he wondered how they found out?)

he even started to go by niki instead of riki—the one letter difference was the best he could do.

perhaps rumors were spreading quickly around about riki and his ‘power’ to see others’ red strings connected to their soulmates.

not even a week of school and riki already developed his own reputation. a feat of its own, no?

at first, it was hard to adjust to seeing so many other kids, waking up at the crack of dawn, and managing the stupid overload of work—basically what seemed to be about everything. but somehow, riki felt a bit more settled in, if he could even describe it as that.

he was quiet, extremely, but still very well known around the school. his grades weren’t bad after all, it turns out riki was pretty alright at “school”, although he mostly slept in class or daydreamed away.

the one thing he could admit he failed at as a human (albeit a ‘special’ human) was socialization.

yeah, riki had basically no friends and he embraced it.

he sat in the back of the class, spoke a total of four words per day, and occasionally messed around. if he really felt like it, he would put in his earbuds and listen to his mixtape like an angsty teen before going home for the day.

all day. all week. on repeat.

if his mother was ever concerned and asked, his rationale would be that riki simply didn’t trust other people. he forced himself to stop caring about and looking at everyone’s red string and soulmates, or anything related.

yet he still had to deal with strangers confronting him and asking who their soulmate was. it was all random people to him, mostly. so who knew what would happen if he became friends with someone, just to discover they used him to find out their soulmate?

even years later, his theory is proven to be accurate.

why, riki internally sighs, do people think they can get whatever they want, whenever they want?

the two girls in front of him, he finally spares them a glance. he just wanted to call it a day, go home and watch some anime or something, not have two random girls pounce on him after school. he barely manages to keep his mouth shut.

“so,” one of them says, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, “can you tell us who our soulmates are?”

which obviously translates to: tell us now or you’ll suffer the consequences.

he takes out an earbud nonchalantly, a blank expression on his face.

“no thanks.”

she takes a step closer, and his eye twitches. “but you can.”

her eyes glare into his, and her friend does the same.

“i can, but will i?” riki asks sarcastically, annoyance beginning to reach its limit. when one of them grabs his shoulder, he starts to panic.

“get your hand off me.” his voice is cold.

“or what?” they mock.

riki grits his teeth, attempting to cool down. he can’t fight back—not just because he doesn’t want to hit them, but because it’ll attract unnecessary attention and that’s the last thing he needs.

the girls giggle that same annoying high pitched sound, although it’s not a blissful or joyful one, it sounds more like a warning with a malicious edge to it.

“oh come on, won’t you be nice to us girls? we’ll let you-“

one hand reaches out and he dodges so quickly they have to pause for a second.

“don’t touch me,” riki puffs out, barely keeping it together.

“i said-“

“how many times does he have to tell you two to leave him alone?”

that was the first time.

the very first time riki ever laid eyes on you, and the very first time his eyes didn’t immediately fall to your hand and red string.

they scowl, about to retort when you shrug uninterestedly, revealing your phone camera pointing straight at them. “i can just report you guys for bullying, you know, or like harassment.”

their eyes widen, before flashing you that look- the one blatantly showing that they just cursed at you silently- before furiously stalking off.

silence follows as you put your phone away and riki collects himself.

you turn to him, voice and expression softer than earlier.

“you good?”

riki shrugs, about to turn away.

“w-wait!” you call out hesitantly. he stops, on the verge of leaving regardless of what you have to say.

“uh, don’t worry. i didn’t actually record anything, just made it look like i did.”

you inhale, trying your best to ignore the awkward atmosphere. “i think we have some classes together? my name’s y/n.”

his eyes flick to yours for a split second before looking away. riki barely nods, putting his earbud back in.

you clear your throat. “and yours is?”

you can barely hear his quiet mutter of an answer before he walks off, leaving you alone in the hallway. you already knew what it was, you just wanted to hear his voice at least once. but his answer leaves you frowning (wondering if you didn’t hear him properly or didn’t clean your own ears properly.)

riki, you contemplate thoughtfully.

regardless of if he was niki or riki, it sounded nicer coming from himself than it did from others.

surprisingly enough, he runs into you again the next day. or not really, you sort of just found your way towards him in the back of the classroom and plopped your stuff down right beside riki.

he didn’t notice you because of his earbuds in until you tap his shoulder, sending a small smile. riki stays emotionless, acknowledging your presence with a quick glance over.

he can’t count the amount of times you attempted at keeping up conversation before giving up. riki would later regret the short, blunt answers he always gave in return. but it baffled him, how you would never mention the red strings or anything related.

you talked about normal things like a normal person, and like riki was a normal person. it was weird how he could learn so much about you based on what you said in a day.

like how you would complain about the astounding amount of homework but always did it all on time and aced every single test. or when you said you were starving but during lunch he would catch you giving your packed lunch to your other friends who were just as hungry as you.

even how you would never fail to greet and sit next to riki, and randomly mutter under your breath for no reason.

he didn’t understand you and how pervasive you were. when he’s a hard concrete wall and you’re still pounding at it every single time. but deep down, he never failed to see your lively soul.

riki’s encountered so many different people with differing intentions, and yet you stand out. he just can’t figure you out.

you pass him the paper for attendance one day and he mutters a small thanks. you practically do a double take, staring at him for a good five seconds before beaming down at your paper. riki doesn’t miss that, either.

he doesn’t know how it happens. you talk to him, and he feels himself responding before he can realize it. you never once mentioned the words red string or soulmate ever. perhaps that was what led him to feel a bit more safe around you. maybe his guard was never let down completely, but you certainly had some effect on him.

maybe, you two became friends. although riki didn’t even know what friends even were. even the school picked up on it quite easily. one of the most brilliant kids in the grade hanging with the outcast- the weird kid who never said a word.

riki doesn’t understand. you have your own friends–he assumes. why even bother with him?

you start sitting next to him at lunch, for crying out loud.

not that he minded, it was actually nice to sit next to someone and not an empty chair or desk.

“hey,” you plop down next to riki, stuffing a grape into your mouth. “what’d you get on the test?”

he looks up. “which one?”

you sigh, taking out a binder.

“history.”

riki takes out an earbud, blinking. “78. you?”

you tsk while popping another grape into your mouth. “i thought our study session was helpful. i got a 97.”

he scoffs, nothing your displeased expression. “you’re smart. you should be happy.”

you raise your eyebrows, ready to retort.

“ you’re smart too, nishimura riki.”

“-if you stopped watching anime all day.”

you just barely manage to dodge the flying grape aimed at you.

you take the seat next to him, taking out one of his earbuds with an intent expression. riki looks up at the loss of sound in his left ear, eyebrows furrowed to object. he stops when he sees you.

“you wanna hang out after class?”

“no.”

you pout. “why not?”

he shrugs. “ask my mom.”

“i personally think she would be ecstatic with you going out instead of staying cooped up inside all day.”

he has to stay silent at that.

triumphant, you pack up your stuff, not bothering to wait for his answer. “five pm at the gates.”

he shows up. riki wasn’t that big of a jerk (at least he thinks so).

he did again when you invited him out after that. and again, and again.

even when you both start adding more and more layers to your everyday outfits, nothing changes. even when exams started and the pink blossoms began falling from the trees.

it’s like one second you were having one sided conversations and the next thing you know, you’re laying down next to each other in the grass during your lunch break.

“so you literally just see the strings?”

oh, yeah.

that was one of the things about you that made riki dumbfounded. at first, you didn’t say a single word about his ability. but as riki let his guard down and opened up more, he realized it was because you actually had no clue. somehow all the rumors that were spread about him never reached you. but once you found out, you did not stop asking questions. countless questions about his “really, really cool superpower” as you deemed it.

“yeah. i see it.”

“everyday? all the time?”

he shoots you a look. “no, i can just sneeze and it’ll turn off.”

“really?”

“no, stupid.”

you huff, hands behind your head as you turn to glance at him and he averts his gaze quickly from your face.

“that’s cool. but you probably wish you could turn it off, right?”

all the time, he thinks bitterly. maybe even permanently.

“can you touch them?”

“i told you already that i can’t!” he shifts, “besides, why would i want to—everyone would just be staring at me like i was a psycho if they just saw me creepily petting the air or whatever.”

he watches your reaction, seeing the corners of your mouth tilt up as you imagine it, and it makes his as well. there’s something satisfying about seeing your reaction that makes him unable to resist.

you abruptly stop, murmuring, “we’re friends, right?”

he pauses, swallowing. “uh, sure. what makes you ask that?” quickly, you shake your head. “oh no, i just never asked you before. wanted confirmation.”

“your only friend, right?” you add jokingly, and he elbows your side.

“i’m kidding-“

“...but i like that,” you add quietly.

a petal flutters down from the tree above you, landing in your hair. you don’t notice as you’re distracted, but riki does. as you start to speak again, he lifts a hand and delicately picks it out. you stop mid sentence as riki watches you gently.

he swallows, and you quickly clear your throat.

it was true. suddenly, riki’s quite glad that he didn’t know who your—his only friend—soulmate was. why, he’s not sure. all riki knows is that he doesn’t want to find out who your soulmate is.

and he’d never admit it, but it was probably (definitely) fear. fear at who your string was connected to. why?

he had no clue and that scared him even more.

riki’s pulled along by your surprisingly strong grip, weaving through corridors and into an empty classroom. a couple of students stare as you two pass by, apparently still not over the fact that you and riki could be friends—let alone be in the same room.

panting, you shut the door and lock it, but stay close to watch out through the window quietly. riki notices your hand still tightly intertwined with his but he decides to keep quiet.

“what’s going on?” he whispers. your gaze breaks away from the window in order to reply to him. “this guy keeps following me-i’m pretty sure it’s the one who left the confession note in my locker and won’t leave me alone during the periods i don’t have with you.”

“someone likes you?” he asks incredulously, and you slap a hand over his mouth, shushing him fiercely as you continue your patrol from inside the classroom.

his insides suddenly feel unpleasant. it’s already uncomfortable and stuffy enough in the room, being squished next to you behind the door so no one- well, apparently this annoying guy who’s stalking you- can find your whereabouts. he doesn’t know who this person is, but he doesn’t like it. not one bit.

suddenly, there’s a voice coming from outside, one asking for the location of you. a couple of female ones answer, and riki figures they must belong to the girls from earlier who saw you guys pass by.

you gasp, and riki feels your grip tighten. you pull him in closer so you’re practically squished together against the door, breaths held as quietly as possible.

it takes everything in him not to squirm as riki waits, he fears you can hear the sound of his heart pounding.

two… three… five minutes pass. only when you hear complete silence do you release him. flustered, riki pulls away, attempting to fix his wrinkled uniform so you don’t notice his reaction.

it must’ve been a clear success, as you only heave a sigh of relief and flash a mischievous grin towards riki.

“i think we’re good, let’s get out of here!”

you don’t make any leeway for him, escaping past the door and out the classroom without a sound.

riki pauses, taking a second to catch his breath. the past few seconds of your close proximity replay in his mind. he shakes it off, brushing the weird sensation in his gut.

still, he wonders if there was any chance you felt that too. or was it just him?

you throw your arm around riki, sporting a grin with a creepy similarity to that of the cheshire cat’s. he flinches at your action, almost cursing in the middle of the crowd of students. “what do you want?”

by this point, finally after two years, most people had gotten used to the sight of the two of you. all the gossip and whispers behind your back flew over his head—and it had never bothered you in the first place.

you stifle a laugh. “no need to be so grumpy. come on, follow me.” you weave through the hallway of crowded kids and riki struggles to keep up, puzzled.

he follows you to the somewhat empty courtyard, sitting down on a nice patch of grass as you wait for him to get settled. “why did you take me out here?”

you roll your eyes, “patient as ever, nishimura riki.” you dig through your messy school bag before your eyes light up.

“close your eyes,” you order.

he does as you say, no questions asked. riki feels a delicate sensation on his wrist—at this point he can recognize your warmth pretty easily.

“all done.”

he cautiously peeks his eyes open only to see you staring expectantly back at him. soon, his gaze falls down to where he felt your light touch before.

a simple, silver chain wraps around his thin wrist.

pretty.

confused, riki furrows his eyebrows, meeting your eyes that glimmer with a strange compassion.

you hold up your own hand with a cute smile that makes his heart pound, displaying a matching bracelet—identical to his.

“it’s not much but, happy birthday, riki.”

to think that he himself didn’t even remember his own birthday. you beam at him, and he feels his ears grow red.

“do you like it?”

“y-yeah,” he mumbles and you nod in satisfaction. “good, because i spent my own money out of my pocket for it. it wasn’t cheap, you know.”

his eyes widen and you press your lips together. “in exchange, you have to promise me something.”

under the peacefully swaying trees, under the warm sunlight and buzzing spring, he realizes he could promise you anything.

you hold out your left pinky. “you’ll stick by my side no matter what. promise me that.”

he opens his mouth to speak but you’re faster, raising your other pointer finger to cover his lips. “just promise me or else i’ll take away your gift.”

your childlike orbs envelop him, full of life and sincerity—he knows he’ll never forget that day.

nor when his own pinky reaches up to link with yours.

riki remembers the day as clear as a fresh glass of water, a still puddle of rain that collected after the summer thunderstorms.

you met up with him in first period as you usually did, ruffling his hair with an easy grin as he grumbles (albeit with an affectionate look that you failed to notice).

class continued on normally, somewhat rowdy as always before the teacher came in. you get up to grab something on the floor, hair falling into your eyes. as usual, riki watches over you before spotting your foot catching on one of the chair’s legs. he quickly shouts out a warning, grabbing your wrist in order to balance you as your head whips up.

he catches you, staring at you in concern and making sure you’re alright. you stare at him in shock, flustered and without a response. he chides you with a roll of his eyes, mumbling something about how clumsy you always were and how he always had to watch out for you.

you can’t seem to form any words, so you just snatch your arm back and sit down. riki wordlessly offers a earbud to you, and you accept it with a smile. it’s something you got used to doing, sharing music and playlists with each other.

even as others made fun of you for doing supposedly cheesy couple things, you ignored them. but it did make you wonder. did you and riki seem like a couple? were you?

you guys were young, you had all of high school still to get through together.

what did it mean?

your thoughts get interrupted by the teacher opening the door. everyone settles down, attention focusing.

but today, it was different. it wasn’t just your teacher walking in.

there was an addition. an addition that came in the form of a handsome looking boy, around the same age as you guys.

the teacher introduces him as a transfer student. yang jungwon, he smiles and riki swears people swoon. everyone’s attention is on him, even yours is as you all study him curiously.

riki swore he was past all that looking at people’s soulmate strings and connections. it had been so long since he tried to put two and two together. it was a whole invasion of privacy, and he simply didn’t want to bother himself with other people’s affairs and relations.

but once he saw that new kid step into the room, riki can only focus on his hand, the first thing that came into his view.

and like it was in slow motion, he follows the tiny red string on his pinky down the row of desks to someone sitting a few inches away from riki himself, obviously not paying attention and oblivious to everything while listening to a shared earbud— you.

he almost thinks his eyes are fooling him. it was barely connected by that thin, cursed string. and that’s when it really hits him.

that string was connected to yours.

that string meant your soulmate just walked into the classroom—

and it certainly wasn’t riki.

“jungwon’s really cool. did you know he did taekwondo since he was….”

riki ignores the chatter in the halls as he walks by, brooding as always. but this week was a bit harsher. probably, no, definitely because of the new student jungwon.

ever since he joined your class, people had been talking about him nonstop. it seemed like jungwon was one of the popular kids now, without even doing anything. riki didn’t get what was so cool about him, anyway.

sure he was “cute” and had a kind personality. sure he was incredibly smart and well spoken. that’s all riki had heard the past week from everyone else gossiping in awe.

he turns up the volume on his phone, scoffing. what are they, his fans?

riki wasn’t sure what to do with the newfound information about your soulmate. he didn’t really want to think about it, his first instinct was to look for you in his next period for some cheering up. but when he walks into the classroom, he doesn’t expect to see aforementioned person talking to you, an animated look on his face.

jungwon gestures grandly, probably telling some super cool story from all his achievements. you seem pretty invested, watching with big eyes and occasionally laughing.

riki feels desperation and anger swirl in the pit of his stomach. even worse, he feels loneliness. something he hasn’t felt for a long time blooms inside—something he hasn’t felt since he met you.

what is he supposed to do now that you’ve found your soulmate? or rather, riki has?

you thought everything was fine. everything seemed fine. after the new guy joined your class, riki acted a little weird the first couple of days but he returned to normal soon after. you figured it was because of his normally shy personality. it took you a (long) while for him to warm up to too, after all.

but what you didn’t expect was for him to almost launch a full on investigation. on the new kid jungwon, strangely enough.

you frown. “he’s nice? why are you asking me this? it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

sure, jungwon talked to you unexpectedly a couple of times, but he was very popular and did that to many people. it wasn’t like he was targeting you or anything like that. or so that’s what you believed.

but it didn’t stop there. in the few classes you shared with the two boys, whenever jungwon would start up a friendly conversation with you, you could feel riki staring holes into your back. and whenever riki made a dumb joke in the middle of class and you flicked him playfully, you swore you caught jungwon’s eye on more than one occasion.

you brushed it off, but one day it was suddenly no longer a matter of trivial things.

usually it was just you and riki at your lunch table, and it had been that way for a while. your friends opted to stay away from him, and you shrugged it off. it was their loss, not yours.

so when jungwon and his group of popular kids approached you and riki, jungwon taking the seat next to you while riki visibly tensed, you figured something was up. you could hear the onslaught of whispers from surrounding tables.

jungwon, the ideal student, joining you and the weird outcast riki?

from then on, the changes were too drastic to ignore. hanging out with just riki, you knew he was obviously bothered but wouldn’t tell you about it. it was visible that he had a clear disdain for jungwon, but would never verbally express it as much as you tried to get it out of him. it was an unreachable part of him, although you thought you had worked hard to get past that secretive, closed off part of him.

worse was jungwon sitting next to you various times in class and making too much conversation for you to ignore (although you really tried to show you weren’t interested in talking the whole time). all while riki stared forward with an unreadable expression, music practically on full blast.

you didn’t know what was going on, and you didn’t know the situation—how to get a grasp on it. you especially didn’t know the occasional looks the two boys would give each other, and how things would change so soon.

all you knew was that it happened one gloomy day, nearing the end of the school year.

you had just finished an exam in science and went looking for riki to walk home together, as you did every day when school ended. when he wasn’t anywhere to be found, you asked around.

most answers came in the form of shrugs, however a couple of classmates recalled seeing him with another group of kids.

you frowned—what reason would riki have to go off with some other people? perhaps you heard the mention of jungwon’s name but you were too preoccupied with finding riki to really pay attention.

before you could get far, you were welcomed into a strange atmosphere when you reached the courtyard. students whispering and gossiping with a variety of expressions present. your heart began to race as you look around. where is he?

you figure you must’ve missed something as the crowd eventually disperses and you get no answers. perhaps riki had a schedule after school and forgot to tell you?

you could’ve sworn you heard someone say jungwon’s name again, but this time along with riki’s name. you brush it off though as you needed to get home before it started to rain—you could feel it in the air.

so you send riki a quick message before starting on the journey home.

the next morning, you checked your phone to find no response. weird.

either way, you had no time to question it as you were already late to class, so you quickly slip in to the seat next to your classmate. your eyes don’t fail to see riki and jungwon’s empty seats.

you nudge haerin sitting next to you. “do you know where niki is? i haven’t seen him since lunch yesterday and he hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”

her eyes widen as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“y/n….you haven’t heard?”

your eyebrows furrow, “heard what? what’s going on?”

the next thing you remember, is your heart dropping.

“niki’s leaving.”

riki…leaving you?

“what do you mean?”

her eyes soften, and you begin to despise the pity on her face. “he’s leaving the school. no one knows why but-“

you zone out after that.

your best friend transferring schools—moving away for some unexplained reason?

no one at school says anything, and you feel like everyone’s keeping you out of the loop on purpose. you hate the feeling that you’re missing a huge piece of the puzzle.

with no explanation, with no answer from his number (no matter how many times you tried calling), riki disappears in the blink of an eye. it’s as if he never existed in the first place.

rumors follow but you know better than to listen to them. all you found out was apparently something happened that day—you suspect, no you know, between riki and jungwon—and the damned result was riki leaving your school.

he never mentioned anything about moving, as far as you knew. he never acted like anything was wrong either. it had to have been something from that day. or maybe not.

at this point, you didn’t know what to believe. you had just lost your closest friend, your study-slash-lunch-slash-everything buddy, and your number one support.

and somehow everything was supposed to go back to normal. everyone continues on normally, including jungwon.

everyone except you.

he’s gone and he left you alone.

as if you ever hoped to see him again.

iii. welcome to the world.

you exhale, smoothing out your wrinkled outfit for the tenth time. you chide yourself internally, why were you so nervous?

it was just an internship. your first day, too. only recently did you graduate high school yourself.

it was just the first day of your newly acquired internship and yet you were nervous for it at a new company in a new city. it was your choice to relocate to a new area for new beginnings and new memories.

to be quite frank, you had no clue what you were doing. why did you even decide to focus on photography? you most definitely didn’t have much experience, only starting the hobby when you graduated high school. maybe you wanted a chance to take your mind off life and see things in a new light. a second chance.

maybe photos didn’t make you feel as alone.

shivering, you shake your head to clear free of thoughts. time to get this over with. the oh so dreaded first day.

before leaving, you don’t forget to leave some food for the stray cat outside your place. you then get up with a satisfied grunt and make your way to the bus stop.

however, your new boss was kind and understanding of your nervousness. you visited the company a couple times before, but never enough to get familiar with the layout and other photographers due to obtaining the internship so suddenly. you didn’t expect to get it either, not as a young, inexperienced student almost fresh out of college. either luck was on your side or your talent seemed to shine through.

it was strange to be in such a different environment than from what you grew up in. supportive, encouraging people all highly invested and passionate in their jobs.

you set up everything in your assigned desk and wait for further instruction.

your boss had showed you around and gotten you used to the daily activities of those working at a photography company, making your transition much smoother.

the whole experience was a little too easy, making you feel so much lighter. you could feel it. things were good- perhaps too good to be true.

“isn’t the first day always the best?” mr. lee, your boss, speaks up.

you quickly nod. “so far, it’s been really good. i was just wondering what my job was actually going to be for the next few months.”

he claps his hands together, almost startling you.

“of course—i like your attentiveness! you’ll be working under one of our best, accompanying him on his work and assisting with whatever he needs to get a feel for what we do here. we can meet him now if you’d like?” his question causes you to pause.

“of course.” you wonder who this ‘he’ was, apparently being one of the best.

a sudden wave of nervousness hits you. all the doubts and fears start to rise, so you swallow and try your best to suppress it.

why did you have such a bad feeling?

as your boss leads you down the offices and desks, you nod enthusiastically and laugh at his remarks as you make your way to the stairway. you go up, about to reach the top step when you spot someone coming down, their faculty name tag flashing in the light. you just barely steal a glimpse of the name, of the face of the person moving.

it’s foreign yet familiar at the same time.

you pause. his face…

you doubt you heard mr lee’s sudden hearty welcome to said person, turning to introduce you with a bright smile. a smile that doesn’t know anything.

“ha, what a coincidence. this is miss y/l/n! you still haven’t met one of our most talented photographers, have you?”

that’s when it hits you.

you feel like everything’s occurring in slow motion, mr. lee’s lips moving slowly, the person’s unreadable expression morphing as you both come to a realization.

“this is our very own best nishimura. nishimura riki.”

your heart drops. no.

it’s not. it can’t be.

why does it feel like the world just crashed down around you? why is it suddenly so hard to breathe? your eyes can’t leave those familiar ones, the same ones that have haunted you ever since that day.

those eyes that fill with recognition at the sight of you, you’re sure of it.

and then, everything is set into motion once more. you blink quickly, several times, exhaling as you try to readjust.

“nice to meet you,” you quickly bow while avoiding his gaze. this actually can’t be.

“you’ll be working with him for the-“

you mutter some lame excuse of needing to go to the restroom before dashing up the rest of the stairs to the nearest safe room, ignoring your boss’s surprised voice.

once you find the restroom, you find the sink and turn on the water. you scrub and scrub your hands before staring at yourself in the mirror.

not after all this time-

not after he left you, he can’t just suddenly appear again. did you just imagine him?

you still can’t believe it, almost refuse to believe it. nishimura riki, after 10 or so years, appears in the flesh right before you. you had long given up on trying to find him. and here he is, working at the same place as you.

he exists, perfectly alive and well without you.

it was just too much. riki was all grown up. he really looked the same, just much, much taller and more grown up in his professional attire. you weren’t used to it. or the fact that, he came back.

unless he never really left.

all those years in middle school and high school you tried to forget come rushing back. the rumors that followed your footsteps, the questions never answered. all those years of pain and loneliness, and confusion-

staying up so many nights pondering what you did that made him run away, leave you when he promised he would be there. after all that time wondering and wondering why and how and what you did. and what could’ve been done.

maybe you were being dramatic but it doesn’t change the fact that he left without a word, and with no contact for you to keep in touch. no attempt at all.

you were so hurt, so closed off now. you convinced yourself that you never cared to see his face again, but what were you supposed to do when riki shows up again, unannounced in front of you like nothing ever happened?

was there even anything left between you two?

you decided early on that your best course of action was to pretend that you never knew him. riki was a complete stranger, and it wasn’t truly a lie. it had been so long since you last saw him.

but you know that won’t work forever. especially not when he was the one you were working under.

you didn’t know what to call him, how to call him. mr. nishimura sounded way too formal especially considering your history, and riki was obviously off limits.

the next day, you stand in front of his desk with your hands clasped together in front of you like a scolded child in front of the principal. you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“so…uh, i guess you’ll be working with me for the next couple of months?”

you barely nod, shifting in your position uncomfortably. instead, your eyes fall on the pictures scattered around the walls in riki’s office.

“i’ve never had an intern before, so-“

you interrupt him impatiently while still avoiding eye contact.

“just tell me what you need me to do, mr. nishimura.”

you could visibly see the both of you cringe at that.

“-please.” you add pitifully as an afterthought.

noticing your coldness, riki must have enough common sense to give you some papers to file and chart.

what a wonderful first day.

you would describe your present relationship with riki as a very formal (and strained) senior-junior one. besides your daily task of avoiding your own mentor as much as possible, you rather enjoyed the work. so far, getting to learn the true process behind taking photos was something you never experienced.

and seeing riki in his element, with his raw talent and skill was another thing in itself. it was a lot to process, seeing an entirely different, mature riki.

you were a little too sad that you missed his growing up.

in the break room one morning, you sip peacefully on your freshly made coffee. it was a nice day, at least you believed so until you heard the door open, signaling the entrance of another person.

you’re about to greet them politely until you realize who exactly it was. you swallow a little too harshly, tensing as the person approached you.

“if you’ll excuse me,” you mutter while slipping past him. riki stands there, unmoving as he watches your figure leave.

it had been like that since the first day when he was reintroduced to you. dry to no responses, indifferent gaze, not a single glimpse into you. into the you that he knew, or once knew.

it was like he was the one talking to a built up wall, unable to do any damage. it’s almost funny how it’s like your positions from back then were switched.

he figured your cold and unapproachable demeanor was only to him—understandably. there was a lot you must’ve been feeling, as well as he. it was a long journey with a lot of baggage riki was still carrying.

still, he sees you with some of the other interns, smiling and laughing as you once did with him. as he stares at you from afar (hopefully not in a stalkerish way), riki realizes that you still have the same laugh, same smile, same attentive expression when someone calls your name.

and yet, you’re so different. you’re so far away from him.

as time goes on, you realize you can’t act like a little kid for the rest of your life. well, for the rest of the time you had this internship (and currently you didn’t have any plans to resign, especially since you literally just started).

during the lunch break, you don’t expect the seat next to you to be taken. you stiffen once you realize who it is—his presence was so familiar that you didn’t even have to take a glance to see who it was.

you start to rise from your seat, but a hand clasps gently around your arm. you freeze.

“y/n,” he starts quietly. you shiver at the sound of his voice, recognizable yet unrecognizable at the same time. you feel like you can’t breathe.

“please. not now.”

with that, you stalk away, meanwhile your eyes fly across the room to ensure no one saw your interaction.

how much longer could you keep doing this?

the more you see him, the more you can’t ignore the fact that you really, really did miss him. it’s like nothing changed—except for his appearance—and you couldn’t suppress the amount of relief you had at the realization that riki was still riki, after all.

he was still the same boy you shared earbuds with back then, at least in your eyes.

you want to know how he’s been. what he’s done, how he came back, how he became the person he is today.

on the other hand, riki realizes the complete transformation you’ve undergone.

the first conversation he had with you after oh so many years, you merely handed him his coffee with a short nod. his attempt to bring up the weather, school, anything just to talk to you again, obviously fell short.

riki’s strategy? give you your space and time. of course he respected that, and maybe you noticed because it seemed to weaken the intimidating barrier from before.

after that, you acknowledged him, greeted him (albeit shortly) every morning—riki even noticed you watching him edit some photos although you thought he couldn’t see you.

while you would never admit it, riki looked pretty cool teaching you his tips and tricks. you didn’t realize how much his job suited him and how lucky his company was to have acquired such a talented, soulful person as a photographer.

you can tell, riki wants to get talk to you so badly, but in fear of getting hurt again, you push him away. it’s hard, when all you can do is expect him to vanish without another trace again.

as you finish touchups on the last photo, you sigh and rub your eyes. things were different now. no point in wondering what could have been.

you walk out into the hallway, wishing to get some coffee to power through those last edits. but you soon stop in your tracks.

“y-y/n.”

your eyes lower to the floor, acknowledging him with a nod. “hey.”

“are you going to the break room?”

you nod again.

“then…” he hits you with those hopeful eyes and you curse internally. “can i come with?”

a surprisingly comfortable silence fills the air, along with the soothing smell of coffee.

riki comments on your more compliant and meek nature—it’s certainly supposed to be a joke but you take it the wrong way.

you frown. “i’ve changed, riki.”

he falters. maybe he’s done too much, too soon.

“i’ve grown up. just like you have. we both have, so maybe you should accept me now like i have to you.”

you turn to leave but he grabs your wrist.

“please. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that. i know i’m in no position to say this, but i thought we were doing okay. i really want to be friends with you again—truly.”

you sigh audibly. there really was no value in being awkward with him for your time here. at least if you tried to maintain an amicable relationship, you wouldn’t have to make up dumb excuses every time you saw him. and if you got closer again, perhaps you could figure out after all this time why he left.

even more importantly, why he came back.

“could we please start over?” his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it (and much deeper than you were used to).

you wait two, three seconds before turning around,

and sticking your hand out.

“nice to meet you,” you introduce yourself. you watch the smile start to grow on his face.

“i’m nishimura riki, and it’s very nice to meet you too.”

riki sighs, clicking the red x button in the corner. he finished his last portfolio with you as his assistant. it was only a matter of hours, or minutes, before he was assigned his next project. he turns off the light and closes the door behind his office, only to be greeted by your figure.

an eyebrow of his raises. “were you waiting for me?”

you scoff, casually kicking the ground with your shoe while looking off into the distance. “no.”

“well, i was,” you glance at him abruptly in surprise, “let’s go.”

“huh?”

he shrugs, “we finished and everyone else is gone.”

you didn’t expect riki to be so… enthusiastic about it. it as in hanging out together, as friends again.

maybe, you always knew in the end you had to give in. there was no way you could keep up this act against riki. it had always been like that.

if anyone saw you two out now they would probably assume you were two college kids on a date.

wait- date?

“-y/n?”

you glance up, startled. “yeah?”

riki frowns, sipping his boba. “are you okay? you seemed distracted. what were you thinking about?”

you shake your head with a sheepish laugh, “nothing. sorry.”

you wondered how you got to this point.

meeting riki outside of work and hoping you don’t run into any of your co-workers. honestly, it was fun to have a friend to talk with—it was fun to have riki next to you again.

your teenage self would have been dumbfounded.

while you had this time with him, you could finally ask some things you were curious about.

“riki,” you start off and he tries his best to keep calm. it was the first time you had called him by his first name in years. he missed it dearly.

“how did you get into photography?”

he knows what you meant to ask. how did you get here?

he falls back into his chair, staring up at the ceiling. you know just know riki too well, simply waiting patiently for him to take his time.

“i don’t know, to be honest. i always felt different from everyone else.” he pauses and looks at you, “you knew that the best.”

“i wanted to study people more. so i started taking pictures of others. now i just specialize in photographing more important people, like models and idols. i still don’t know how i got here though. that’s the truth.”

“you’re really good,” you say lamely. “you’re very talented and i’m jealous, to be frank.”

you see his ears turn red as he coughs shyly.

“thank you. i guess it’s what i’m best at.”

that wasn’t the exact answer you were expecting, but you took it. soon, you promised yourself, you would uncover the truth.

iv. cupid’s attack.

you like to think that you and riki get into a good groove at work.

you can’t help but burst out laughing, and riki almost stops in his tracks.

he realizes that sweet and soulful sound was just as he last remembered it. it almost makes him shiver. yes, not everything changed about you.

he knows. it can’t last forever—this push and pull relationship. plus, your budding relationship has to result in an explanation. you deserve it at the very least.

as much as riki wanted to keep it hidden, secrets can’t always stay secrets forever. he can’t protect you from everything in this world, his selfish wants can’t always be kept.

as the two of you joke around, various other workers stare at you in envy. somehow, you got to work with the mysterious yet talented riki. the one who got hired out of the blue and somehow rose to the top. no one could deny his skill.

his intimidating and mysterious aura haunted the office for some time. that is, until you came. the way he treated you was shocking to say the least. it seemed like you two were in your own world. there was definitely something, and everyone could see that.

“sorry to interrupt,” another intern speaks up shyly, but the boss wanted me to tell you guys that the party starts at 8.”

“party?” you turn to riki with a perplexed expression.

“ah, i forgot to mention. we have an office dinner party to celebrate the new interns and their hard work.” riki nudges you with a glint as your eyes widen.

“that includes you.”

you weren’t the partying type—if that wasn’t obvious enough. especially not one out of the blue, one not meant for you.

you shift uncomfortably at the large dinner table. riki ended up sitting next to you somehow. you like to think he did it on purpose, knowing you weren’t the type to enjoy socializing in large groups (and neither was he). but little did you know, he came for you.

only you.

everyone was urging you guys to drink, as it was custom to do so at office parties. but you had a limit, so when you get up to leave, making some lame excuse about having more work to finish up at home, riki immediately gets up as well. all eyes fall on you two, and you awkwardly take your leave with a tipsy riki in tow.

“yeah, it’s definitely time to get you home.”

with a rather embarrassing grunt and help from fellow co-workers, you manage to get a grip around riki’s shoulders.

once you make it out of the restaurant however, you realize that you indeed have no clue where riki lives.

“riki,” you start off cautiously, “what’s your address?”

“there!” he points sluggishly toward a nearby barbecue place. you huff.

“seriously, riki. i need to get you home. you’re way too drunk to-“

“let’s go there,” he slurs. “i’m hungry.”

as much as you stand your ground, his incessant begging eventually gets to your head and you cave.

“fine. i’ll just order you some side dishes. then we’re actually going home.”

you can only blink at the amount of dishes on the table that riki ate alone (and the amount that was going to be charged to your card).

“riki… i think that’s enough.” you softly place a hand on his still holding the chopsticks. you mutter something along the lines of, i didn’t know you ate this much this late at night…

somehow, he manages to hear you. he sounds more sober and looks more sober as well, to your relief. “yeah, well, how do you think i got this tall?”

it’s true, you were quite shocked at how tall he got. for a second, you simply stare at him while lost in your thoughts. perhaps it was the alcohol still running in your system.

he raises an eyebrow, “what’s so interesting about me suddenly?”

you clear your throat, felling your face turn hot. “nothing.”

suddenly, it feels as if the mood has changed again. you know this is your chance, and you can’t miss it. not ever again.

“don’t you need to go home soon? would, would anyone be waiting?”

riki lets out a short laugh.

“as if. i’ve been living alone ever since i came back.”

ever since he came back.

you look down at your hands.

“why did you come back?” you whisper. and yet, he hears it again.

as he’s about to respond, you glance at him with a conflicted look. “why did you leave?”

riki inhales, placing his chopsticks on the table neatly. “i’m just… so sorry y/n, for leaving you-“

“then tell me. that’s the least you can do.”

you hate how your voice quivers at the end.

“i… it’s all my fault. i lost control. i got into a fight with yang jungwon.”

you try your best to keep the surprise off your face and let him continue.

“and with my reputation at the school, my parents and the principal came to the conclusion that it was best for me to leave.”

“i didn’t know that it meant going overseas,” he quickly adds, “but i had no choice as a teenager. i could only listen to my parents and when i got the chance, i came back as soon as i could.”

you almost forgot about his so called ability. but it didn’t even matter at this point. you had countless questions, but it seemed like riki was still holding back. there was something he didn’t want to tell you, something he didn’t want you to know.

you were somewhat satisfied with his answers, but something was still bothering you.

you can feel his eyes on you, waiting for some sort of response.

“i see… but why didn’t you come find me?” you voice cracks. “why didn’t you make any effort at all to see me again? because so far, it seems like you were pretty okay with me not knowing that you still existed.”

what you really meant to say was,

you seemed perfectly fine without me. you seemed perfectly fine while i was still hurting after all this time.

“even more,” you continue on, “after you came back all this time.”

riki shakes his head, “i was looking for you.”

you falter at that.

“i always was, even in another country far away. i had to get a new phone and lost your number and all contact. but when i was finally able to come back to our hometown, you were gone. i was able to get a job at our current company due to my parents connections, and i was going to use that money to pay for travel expenses. just to find you.”

“i swear y/n,” and you almost tear up at the sincerity in his eyes, “i would never abandon you.”

“just like i promised all those years ago.”

his voice grows soft, “i always wondered what happened after i left. what you were up to. i imagined you being super successful while doing something you love.”

you laugh in order to lighten up the heavy mood, “as you can see now, that’s certainly not the case. i actually have no clue what i’m doing with my life.”

“you’re- you’re not with anyone or anything?”

you shoot him a baffled look, “what in the world? i can’t even take care of myself, let alone another person.”

you’re so shocked at the question that you miss riki’s subtle sigh of relief. you hadn’t gotten with jungwon— at least not yet, he thinks.

“then, what was high school like? you know, without me?”

you shake your head, not willing to think about those times.

“lonely, obviously, without you,” you grumble.

you had some friends still, but they weren’t riki. they never would be and could never replace him.

you decide to not mention jungwon and the short period of time after riki’s leaving in which he tried to hang out with you. most definitely not after learning what riki told you.

it was weird even to you, how such a popular guy like yang jungwon wanted to hang out with you for some time. but he soon gave up, whether it was because of all the other students noticing and gossiping or because of your moody brooding over the loss of riki.

“that’s all?”

you nod shortly. “i graduated, became interested in photography, and applied for this internship. end of story.”

you shake your head, “i just don’t know how we both got here at the same company, at the same time. man, i was even chosen to work for you of all people.”

riki’s smile grows–

“it’s like it was fate,” you murmur absentmindedly.

–and it immediately drops at that.

“can you still see people’s red strings?” of course, you had to bring that topic up at this time.

“yeah. but i’m done with all that soulmate connection strings and stuff. i just ignore it now.”

you obviously see his change in demeanor at the topic.

“that’s good. it obviously doesn’t affect your photography. i didn’t know how talented you were.”

although so many people had told him that before, it was different hearing it from you. he blames his face flushing on the alcohol, not your compliment.

“t-thanks. you are too. i can see your potential.”

you cock your head, “really? aren’t you just saying that because i’m working with you?”

he shakes his head vehemently.

“of course not. i think you’re one of the most special people in the world. you would be good at anything you want to do, because that’s just you y/n.”

you cough at the sudden change in the air. you don’t think you can handle his endless complimenting.

“thank you riki, really. but are you done eating? i think we should head out.”

you leave with not just your stomachs fuller, but your mind and heart as well.

other nights were spent staying up at the office, finishing edits and cuts. those were the best nights though, in your opinion.

you got the best advice and the best late night talks with riki—he really felt like a leader now. it made you realize how grown up he became.

“i still have the bracelet you gave me. i keep it on my desk just so i don’t lose it.”

your mouth drops open, “ no way? the one i gave you in middle school?” he nods and you internally shudder while thinking about what happened to yours.

“i hate to break it to you, riki, but i actually lost mine..”

–which translated to i threw mine away out of anger and sadness. but you figured you could keep that a secret for the time being.

“it’s fine. i’ll just get us new matching ones.” riki swears he never will forget the satisfied smile on your face, eyes twinkling and nose scrunching.

that was it. riki really tried.

he tried his best, but he can’t help falling in love with you.

he can’t even tell if you like him back or if you’re just being kind, because you are originally just a kind and beautiful soul.

he likes you too much it hurts, but he can’t be hurt again. he doesn’t want to be.

he doesn’t want to tell you about all the secret pictures he would snap of you instead of the actual model that he was working with. the amount of time and effort put into his hidden collection of you. it was one of his works that he was the most proudest of. one that he would cherish forever.

he didn’t even know when he realized it— that riki loved you. perhaps it was the countless hours spent up at night thinking about you, all alone.

but loving you came easily and naturally. red string or not, niki would love you endlessly no matter what. and whatever happened in the end, he would only want happiness for you.

occasionally he would wonder why he had to go through all that testing when he was young, why he had to go thought that entire, torturous and isolating experience.

but then he thinks about you and how without being stuck in the lab for however many years, he would have never met you in the conditions that you met in. you would have never gotten the chance to save him from those bullies if he had gone to school at a normal age and been like all the other kids.

everything that happened to riki, it was to bring him to you. for some reason, he’s sure of it.

even with all that—the feelings and acceptance and denial— riki tries his best to suppress his feelings and just enjoy being with you again. just to make up for lost time, he reasons.

he knew you two weren’t soulmates, he saw it once more the supposedly fated day he met you again for the second time.

still, he doesn’t think he could be with anyone else but you. riki knows in his heart you’re the only one for him. he stares at his own red string leading off into the unknown distance. even if the universe said otherwise.

even if the universe said otherwise, he didn’t want to lose you again.

the vip landyards you got for entering the venue backstage weren’t vip after all.

one good thing about riki’s job was the free access to public events, obviously to capture the best photos. but on this occasion, you two were denied access for no particular reason.

no matter how much riki demanded, the even taller and intimidating body guards wouldn’t budge.

“it’s fine,” you place a hand on riki’s shoulder to calm him. “we can just go through the front. i bet someone will be willing to listen to us there.”

you know riki wants to argue more but you give him a look and he concedes.

the crowd was wilder than you thought though. mainly due to it being some group called oncolon or whatever performing. navigating through the huge crowd, riki suddenly takes your hand tightly.

you almost trip over some person’s foot, glancing at him with wide eyes and a slight blush. he doesn’t say a single word.

you’re sure you’ve gotten knocked and pushed several times in the wild crowd. you try your best to keep up, but at some point, too many bodies separate you and riki.

a rather hard shove causes you to lose your balance, falling onto the ground (with a painful jolt up your butt).

all you can hear is the booming music for a moment and the flashing lights, until a hand suddenly reaches through. you almost don’t notice it at first until you hear your name being called.

suddenly you’re being pulled up forward, into sturdy arms.

“are you okay? sorry i lost you-“

when you see that it’s riki, dark orbs filled with concerned as he speaks, you nod dumbly while zoning the rest of his words out.

you couldn’t really concentrate, not when you were trying to process the fluttering of your heart and his body oh so close to yours.

but oh no, it doesn’t stop there.

it was rather sudden—you called riki over to your desk to ask for his opinion some time later.

“should i lower the exposure more? i know you were going for a darker look since it fits the concept-?”

what you don’t expect is him to lean a little too close to comfort over you and your desk to reach the computer. even more, you don’t expect his hand to cover yours over the mouse as he clicks a few things.

all you do is hold your breath but you can still smell him faintly, a comforting and familiar scent. your eyes almost flutter shut.

suppressed feelings are coming back. coming back to haunt you for good.

it does indeed feel a little too good to be true. you feel so giddy around riki, like a high schooler experiencing their first love. but you never got to.

it felt like you were getting to reexperience your teenage years properly with riki—how it should’ve gone. but it’s a little different. it feels a little too different. you want to blame it on the fact that you guys are older and you overthink things, but the feelings and emotions inside you say otherwise.

v. the thin line between love and hate.

you startle at the sudden coffee placed in front of you, by a bashful riki.

“hm? what’s this for?”

he scratches the back of his head, “you’ve been working so hard lately, too much for an intern. i don’t want to be known as the guy who overworks the newbies.”

the warming of your heart falls flat.

“ha ha ha,” you laugh dryly. “thank you though.”

before he leaves you to continue your work, he adds, “don’t forget to eat too. i brought some lunch for you in the fridge.”

you don’t fight off the dumb smile on your face when you open the community fridge to see a packaged lunch with a sticky note on top reading,

y/n’s only!! no touching!! (please and thank you)

in someone’s very familiar handwriting that hadn’t changed at all since middle school.

still, you don’t know how you haven’t gotten fired yet. you tried your best to maintain a professional relationship at work, yet the amount of jokes and ridiculous faces riki made was going to be the death of you.

he manages to get a choked sound out of you as you put your head down in an attempt to hold back your laughter. he only looks on proudly when you try your best to chide him.

“focus, riki!”

“how can i focus when his feet smell from across the roo-“

you place a finger over his soft lips, eyes raising from them to his innocent (yet deadly) looking gaze.

“stop disturbing the others!” you scold.

“i think you should tell his feet that.”

you stare at each other blankly for a second or two, your eyes flicking to the man’s shoes across the room, before you both can’t help but bursting into a silent fit of laughter.

meanwhile everyone else looks on, confused but starting to get used to the two of you at this point.

as riki admires your face full of glee, he thinks there couldn’t have been anything better.

maybe he should’ve known the universe wouldn’t let him off that easy.

you’re on the way home from work when you receive a message from riki. he asks for you to stop by the store to grab him ice cream, and you roll your eyes.

you already knew what that meant. anime night at riki’s place although his deadline was the next day.

when he sends the begging emojis, you sigh and change routes to the nearest mart. you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to.

you’re browsing the aisles, adding more and more snacks that you really didn’t need but you knew would make riki (and by default—you) happy.

as you reach for the bungeobbang snack, you don’t notice the hand that grabs it at the same time. a shock courses through you for a split second, and you pull your hand back.

“sorry…”

you glance at the figure. and you cock your head.

a distinct pair of eyes blink back at you.

wait a second…

“no way. yang jungwon?”

his mouth drops open. “y/n? it’s been years!”

you nod, almost laughing at the complete turn of events. “i can’t believe it either. what are you doing here?”

it turns out jungwon was in town for work, as per a client's request. he had also grown up a lot and changed much more than you expected.

he was still the same, handsome and charming jungwon. but he had definitely matured and you found yourself enjoying the catching-up talk with him. to the point where you lost track of time.

only was it until you see riki’s name light up your phone do you remember. you scramble to get your things (and probably melted ice cream).

“sorry jungwon, i have to get going.”

he gets up to help you gather your things. you can’t help but notice the warmth of his hand lingering on yours when he passes you the last grocery bag.

“it was really nice to see you again. do you maybe want to keep in touch?”

you only nod at his hopeful eyes. “of course! we can exchange numbers and meet up again while you’re still here.”

feeling strangely light on your way to riki’s place, the guilt hits you when you are greeted by riki’s worried face.

“what took so long?”

you think about jungwon and cringe internally. you don’t think you have the heart to tell riki. not today.

-Is what you keep telling yourself. days, and days after that first encounter. you just don’t know how to bring it up to riki, or when. after everything that happened,

you don’t think you can’t risk it. not when you just got your riki back.

you’re surprised at how often jungwon texts you. maybe he was still the same jungwon after all, still wanting to hang out with you all the time like back in the old days.

but this time, you had no reason to object. again, guilt washes over you as you respond to his text before looking over at a focused riki.

just once wouldn’t hurt, you manage to convince yourself.

it’s not like riki would care that much anyways. the past was the past and things were different now. why would he care if you hung out with another guy?

it’s not like he liked you… right?

you repeat that to yourself everyday. everyday that riki greets you with that adoring face of his. everyday that he teases you, makes you laugh, and helps you through all the hard times.

even the day that you thought he was going to kiss you. when he reached over you to grab the remote, but he didn’t go back to his spot. he stayed hovering over you, faces inches apart.

and he stared at you, into you, with those eyes that he always looked at you with.

yet riki didn’t do anything. he didn’t make a single move, so that means it should be fine if you met jungwon just this once?

even so, you get off work early, rushing to get home and prepare. you brush off riki’s reminder of him stopping by your house later to return your jacket he borrowed. how it fit him, you still don’t know.

even more you don’t know is why you feel pressured to dress up nice and prepare, just to see jungwon. it was just a simple catch up with him. it wasn’t like you were going to keep seeing him after that. it wasn’t a date of any sort…

jungwon pulls out the chair and you awkwardly sit down and thank him.

ok so maybe you should have dated in high school, just so you wouldn’t have been so clueless now.

it wasn’t a date. you know it wasn’t. and you keep repeating it to yourself.

maybe jungwon notices your stiffness, because he compliments your outfit.

“you look really nice.”

“thanks,” you smile, “so do you.”

“i didn’t know what places were good in this area, but i liked this cafe so i thought it would be a good place for us to talk!”

you’ve always admired jungwon’s thoughtfulness. or rather, been jealous. there was only one other person who could compete with him on that: nishimura riki.

again, time passes you as you spend the night with him. it’s quite dark out when you realize you should get going.

jungwon being ever the gentleman offers to walk you home. he also lends you his jacket, which you have no choice but to accept both his offers. it would end on an awkward note if you rejected him—which you didn’t want—so you decide to bear with it just this once.

jungwon was simply a cool and fun person to hang out with anyway, so you had no complaints. you trusted him naturally.

it was all fine until you reached the outside of your apartment.

you certainly weren’t expecting to see riki waiting outside your door, looking visibly and obviously upset. your feet come to a halt.

you completely forgot.

jungwon grabs your arm suddenly. “is that niki?”

you see the expression on riki’s face visibly change, and you rush to explain yourself.

“riki, please let me-“

ignoring jungwon, the coldness emanating from riki physically makes you shiver.

“we need to talk.”

you bite your lip.

“jungwon, i… think you should go.”

he complies when you ask once more, but not without a concerned request to contact him later.

even with jungwon gone, riki still looks like he’s about to get attacked, threatened and rigid.

you call out his name quietly, “can we at least go inside first?”

you reach for his hand but he pulls away before heading in. fair, you think.

“-i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier, but it was a sudden decision.”

“i still don’t get why you didn’t tell me,” he snaps.

you don’t like the way this is heading. and you both know where it was going to go. “it was just one small hangout, we were only catching up,” you frown.

“but you know how i feel about him! you should have told me-“

you feel your anger rise as well as you get to your feet.

“do i have an obligation to tell you? why is a fight that happened over ten years ago still such a big deal? what’s your issue with jungwon?”

you cross your arms, facing an agitated riki.

“nevermind that. why can’t you just tell me what happened back then?!”

the silence, accompanied by the sound of your mixed heavy breaths, leave you weary. you pinch the space between your eyebrows.

“riki-“ you reach out for him but he pulls away. he’s doing it once again.

it hurts more than you thought. “fine. if you’re not going to say anything, then i think you should just leave.”

and you don’t object when he listens to your suggestion, without a second glance back.

it felt like deja vu, seeing him leave just as he did before.

it’s been days since you last talked to riki, let alone spared a glance in his direction. work was awkward enough, just like it had been the first week you came.

how could your relationship turn back to strangers so suddenly? did riki not care?

if anything, he cared too much—but you would have never known.

it’s hard to work next to him, be near him without the unspoken feelings rising up. a hand brushing his when he passed you papers almost felt like it was burning you. riki noticed how you would flinch away, every time.

it didn’t matter. your internship was coming to an end, and you were already preparing yourself to leave.

maybe this was just a sign from the universe telling you that you and riki were meant to be apart. that you weren’t meant to be together after all.

you loved the area, company, office environment and just about everything else. it should’ve been perfect.

but you don’t know if you can stand working here, staying here and living here,

knowing that riki is right around the corner, carrying your heart without a second thought.

the power that he holds, the fact that he’s able to break your heart in the matter of seconds or make you smile like the happiest person in the world, it’s just too scary for you to handle.

you’re already planning to head back home and stay with your parents for a little until you get things figured out again.

you still had tickets to a small festival at the nearby plaza that you planned to go with riki, but that certainly wasn’t happening anymore.

you didn’t want the second ticket to go to waste, so in your lostness and desperation (and several rejections by coworkers), you asked jungwon. you were leaving soon and didn’t know when the next time you would see him was.

you greet him with a halfhearted smile, and he gestures for you guys to get closer to the stage to get a better view. but there’s a big crowd, and you stumble over an arm or leg or something.

for some reason, you expect him to be there and help you up. like someone else did in a strangely familiar situation.

but there’s no one. nothing except the crowd of bodies that’s starting to get a little too overwhelming.

for the first time, you wish to the universe for one thing. you wish you had riki again, with you by your side.

it’s then you realize you’ve been thinking about him the whole time. he who’s been the one always to pick you back up. he was always there for you.

you know, you need to do something before you leave. you can’t handle leaving things like this.

you plan to, however, the next day is the last day of your internship and some of the kind workers surprised the interns with a small going away party. it’s bittersweet, especially when everyone assumes you’re getting hired for an official position due to your exceptional work, and another person.

you were grateful for everyone who planned and showed up. but there was one person who didn’t that you kept looking for. everyone knows who, but no one knows why.

at the end of the day, you make your way back to riki’s office in order to pack up your stuff.

you take one last glance around the room and all of its memories. leaving this place felt like leaving riki behind as well.

you were grateful that you got the chance to see him once more. you were beginning to accept that this was the end.

putting all your stuff in boxes, you frown while wondering where your compartment desk key was. maybe riki mistakenly took yours instead of his?

you open various drawers, rummaging around. but when you get to the bottommost drawer, your heart stops.

it’s only a plain cream folder, but what’s written on it takes your breath away.

just your name.

photos and photos of you, beautifully crafted and arranged together. it’s riki’s work, you know that for sure. memories spanning your entire internship—from the first day to the last time you talked to him.

you don’t know when and how he took these photos. or when tears fell down your cheeks.

you hastily rub the wetness away, sniffling as you close the folder and continue your search. now wasn’t the time to get sentimental.

it would be alright, because you planned on finding riki the next day before you left. it was too late today, and you needed to finish packing. you just wanted one last chance to say everything you wanted to before going.

you have to because you feel it deep within, tugging at your heartstrings.

it’s about 1am when you finish packing. you don’t even want to think about the time you need to get up, nor the fact that you still had to find a way to see riki.

you zip up the last luggage when the doorbell rings. who in the world would be at your door this late? you consider grabbing some sort of weapon, but decide against it for the time being.

you nervously peek through the peephole, before throwing the door open.

“r-riki?”

you’re more shocked that he was crying than him even showing up at your place.

riki almost lunges forward, trapping you in his arms. he hiccups and you feel a pang in your chest.

“y/n- please- just please, will you forgive me?”

“what?” you breathe out. you couldn’t even process the situation.

“please. never leave me.”

“what? why would i ever?” you comfortingly bring a hand to rub his back. it takes a little bit to soothe him, and he speaks again when you feel his erratic breathing has calmed and his body relaxes.

“i’m so scared to lose you again,” he whispers shakily. you soften, pulling back to see his red eyes and nose.

“riki, please tell me what’s going on.” he knows immediately what you mean.

you reach up to wipe the corners of his eyes and the side of his face gently. he closes his eyes at the feeling, to go back into time.

honestly, he remembers that day as if it was just yesterday. it was a day that haunted him up until now.

riki always knew then. maybe you weren’t aware but he definitely was.

yang jungwon liked you. it was obvious.

riki could see it—physically too. that cursed red string mocked him everyday he saw you two in class.

riki knew jungwon could feel it too. you were too close to riki and everyone knew that. jungwon knew, and he didn’t care.

it was raining, as riki recalled many times over and over again. he was alone while waiting for you to finish class. riki was alone until jungwon and his group of friends approached him.

jungwon knew about his power. he said his father worked for the government, worked with riki. riki suddenly thought of one of the head scientists and his eyes, strikingly similar to jungwon’s.

so that was his father, he remembers thinking.

riki never liked him.

regardless, jungwon asked if riki could see your string. just like the others. riki chooses not to answer as always, but jungwon naturally got on his nerves.

riki remembers the exact words.

“if you two aren’t dating, does that mean you aren’t soulmates? you would’ve asked y/n out already if you were, am i right?”

at that, riki’s blood began to boil. but he couldn’t do anything. mainly because jungwon was right. and it infuriated riki.

jungwon laughed. “then… i can ask y/n out? since you guys aren’t soulmates?”

riki doesn’t remember the next part. maybe he blacked out or chose to erase it from his memory. but apparently, he punched jungwon. he snapped for the first time.

riki opens his eyes again slowly, seeing your heartfelt gaze on him and him only.

he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice when he speaks. it sounded too quiet. too defeated. like he was already accepting his loss.

”you’re jungwon’s soulmate. not mine.”

he glances down at your pinky. it had been a while since he saw your red string, let alone anyone else’s.

“no matter how much i wished your red string was connected to mine, it wasn’t.”

at some point, riki assumed his string had no other person it was attached to, because he had never met anyone who made him feel like how you did. no one else made him as happy, as sad, or as loved as you did.

riki knew if he had a soulmate, it would have been you and only you.

“i-i was upset when you saw jungwon again that you would fall in love with him. and leave me.”

it was a lot to process. you know and he knows. it wasn’t what you were expecting, but you were fine with that.

when you call out his name, your hands reach to the sides of his face to guide them to look at you. you take a deep breath.

“i’ve always loved you.”

and exhale.

“jungwon was never on my mind, only you’ve been. even after all this time-”

abruptly, riki reached forward to kiss you harshly and you instantly reciprocate it. your hands tighten around his neck while his come to wrap around your waist, naturally.

you just can’t seem to let each other go.

you ask jungwon to meet up with one last time before he leaves, at the same cafe he suggested last time.

you comment on the nice weather and he agrees. you fiddle with your fingers.

“this is a bit random, but do you believe in soulmates?”

jungwon looks confused but he says, “yeah. from what i’ve heard, i think so?”

your eyes narrow. “even if two people are soulmates, do you think they can love different people?”

“y/n, where is this-“

“answer the question and i’ll explain. i promise.”

he scratches his head, “i… i suppose so?”

“and if two people aren’t soulmates, do you think that they can love each other?” you continue.

“sure. but i don’t get why you’re asking-“

ignoring him, you nod thoughtfully. “okay.”

he opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand.

“i just wanted to say it was nice seeing you again.”

he looks a bit surprised.

“me too. i enjoyed the time we spent together. i know that i’m leaving soon and this is a bit sudden, but do you want to see each other again-?”

you sigh, looking out the window again.

“i’m sorry, but i don’t think that’s possible. i hope the rest of your life goes well as you want it to, yang jungwon.”

he nods solemnly. “it’s because you’re with niki, right?” he smiles at your shocked expression. “i figured since he was outside your place. no harm in shooting my shot. but wow, you guys really found each other again.”

you don’t know what to say so you just nod.

“tell him that i’m sorry for what i said in the past and that i wish him the best too.” he gets up from his chair, prompting you too as well.

“we can still be friends, of course,” you rush to add.

jungwon laughs, “it’s alright. i should get over you first before considering a friendship.”

“maybe in another life. we get along too well,” you joke. he laughs too and you know it’s not forced.

“come on, i’ll walk you home.”

you stare at jungwon’s side profile during the walk, as he speaks about random topics and leads the way back.

it’s strange, imagining him as your soulmate. it was weird imagining a life with anyone else but riki. although yang jungwon may be your soulmate, he’s not the one that you want. that’s okay.

when he drops you off, riki opens the door. you’re hesitant, but you see the two give a final nod to each other. jungwon leaves without a glance back, and riki closes the door.

“how was it?”

you lean in to peck his lips. “good. better than i expected, to be honest. now can we start the movie? i was waiting for this all day.”

riki smiles as you take off your shoes and get ready for a night in with him. he glances at your matching gold chain bracelets that he bought recently, a promise for the future. just as riki wanted.

riki doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future. all he knows is that he’ll be with you forever, red string or not.

that night, he realized he couldn’t give up on you. not again. he would fight like he did before and choose his own destiny.

because the only destiny he had was one with you.

nishimura riki couldn’t see the end of his string. he probably never would. and he didn’t want to. it didn’t matter, after all. now, he looks back at your hands and imagines a perfect little knot in the middle connecting both your red strings.

and he smiles.

hi it’s jae again—thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it as i put a lot of work and effort into it (my longest one shot so far skxnksdnj so pls excuse mistakes/typos if i missed some) actually it hurt to write won as the “bad guy” but i couldn’t think of anyone else close enough to fit the role lol. anyways that’s all, just wanted to say that i’m thankful for all the love, comments, rbs, and support i receive as it keeps me going to write more. i truly do appreciate all 1.2k and more followers, see you guys again in the next works coming soon ;)

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seeingivy · 3 months

Text

speak now

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

songs mentioned: the greatest by lana del ray and speak now by taylor swift! (minor mentions: daylight and forever winter by taylor swift)

an: LIGHTS CAMERA ACTION BITCHES!!!

previous part linked here

There’s something strange about showing Eren around an elementary school. Or strange about being around Eren at all.

There’s an overarching hunch, a quiet fear that parrots in your mind whenever you’re with him, stuck in those quiet pockets of time that you feel like he can see right through you, that every secret thought ricocheting in your mind is one that he’s entirely cognizant of - and that he hates it for it.

It almost fills you with disgust. How badly you want to be around him all the time, to be able to read him the way you’re positive that he can read you, just so that you can know what he’s thinking.

Is he upset with the way you reacted? Does he know how grateful you are towards him? Is he consoled by the fact that he’s fully forgiven? Does he care?

Does he think about you as much as you think about him?

The elementary school makes it worse. Almost emotional. Because it’s the fact that even though it’s not your school, it’s exactly how you remember it - so nostalgic that it’s nauseating. Though the colors are less vibrant, almost too dull this time around. The desks are comically small, when they used to be so expansive that you could barely reach the front corners.

“Did you ever collect Box-Tops?” you ask Eren.

He looks at you, face wrinkled in confusion as he shrugs. And the second his eyes lock with yours, you quickly swallow down your gulp of shame - at the lost, almost pinched look in his eyes - as he quickly averts his eyes.

Does he hate you for bringing it up? Does he want to berate you for rubbing in the fact that he had no semblance of a normal childhood?

You take the little jar, the little cardboard slips secured in the glass, as you hold it up to him.

“These are Box-Tops. They’re usually on the top of cereal boxes and granola bars and stuff. You can collect them and bring them to class and whoever gets the most in your grade usually gets a pizza party. It’s a charity-type thing where they get more funds for things like arts programs at your school by turning them into the foundation.” you murmur, placing the little jar in his hands.

“You can’t just…fund the schools properly?” Eren asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Are you crazy, Eren? Why would they ever do that?” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Eren smiles.

“Figures. D’you ever win?”

“Win what?”

“The pizza party.”

“Oh, maybe once or twice. They usually only buy two pizzas so you get a comically small slice so that it’s enough to go around for everyone. And I had Falco and Colt to share with - we had to split all the Box Tops we collected evenly between the three of us so I always felt lame turning like three or four in.” you state.

Does he think your complaint is stupid? That you should be grateful that you even got to experience it in the first place?

“What if there was an even number?”

“Rock paper scissors. Then Falco started crying when he lost, so we ended up giving it to him anyway.” you state.

“Very on brand.”

Eren smiles - brightly this time - as he sets the jar back onto the top of the filing cabinets and the two of you continue to awkwardly pace around the room. Eren’s overwhelmed with the memory - of Falco sobbing at his first Canadian Christmas when he was asked what he was thankful for - and the consistency makes him warm.

There’s something unsettling about the room - about how foreign it is to him. There’s a weird echo panging in Eren’s chest, somewhat caused by how longingly you seem to be looking at every little detail of the room. Running your hand over the hardwood desks, picking up the box of crayons, almost frowning at the pictures.

The thoughts that run through Eren’s mind are almost paralyzing, that he can barely keep his beating heart collected in his chest, and more awkwardly, that you know and are choosing to ignore it for civility sake.

Are you going to leave him when the show ends? Would you have left him if you lived a different life too?

Are you never going to end up together?

“Did you ever see Falco and Colt? When you were at school? S’that like a thing that happened?” Eren asks, poking around each of the little flyers on the bulletin board.

“Ah. Not really. Though sometimes when I was going to art class and Falco was going to computers or something, we’d kind of pass each other. We’d always be really excited to see each other. When we saw Colt, he always pretended like he didn’t even know who we were.” you state.

Eren can't stop the thoughts.

Do you hate him for bringing up a life that was robbed from you? The security of a school, of a quiet life because he selfishly picked you to be at his side?

Eren hums in response, as you head over to the last wall - the one left untouched by your inspecting eyes - as you fight the urge to smile. There’s little pictures of each of the students, Teddy right towards the top with a big toothy smile on his face. You point it out to Eren as you catch it before him, memorizing the soft look that spreads over his face when he finally catches light of it.

“You ever see Zeke?” you ask.

“Well, we technically watched a movie with him in it? So, that counts?” Eren shrugs.

“That’s right. Having your own parents and your brother as your source material must be so crazy.”

The thought that follows your comment nauseates Eren.

Are you trying to point out how different you are, so much so that you’ll never be able to be together?

“I can imagine exactly how you would be in elementary school.” Eren states, slinging his arm around your shoulder and bringing his face nearly flush with yours.

“Oh yeah?” you ask.

“You’d be like…this girl.”

You inspect the picture, rolling your eyes at the cop-out answer. Each of the little pictures is labeled with their hobbies or their interests, and naturally, Eren’s picked the girl who says she wants to be a songwriter.

“You’re funny.” you respond, sarcastically.

“S’nothing funny about it.” Eren responds.

“You’d be like…this one. He seems like the type of kid who would pull on a girl's pigtails, which according to Mikasa, is something that you actually did.”

Eren’s going to kill Jean.

“That’s just how you get a girl's attention.” Eren responds.

“Is that right? Had something you wanted to tell Mikasa really badly?” you smile.

Eren’s almost embarrassed that you know. That he feels the need to defend himself, to prove his devotion to you even though there would be no reason for him to do that.

“Ugh. Who told you?” Eren asks.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I can’t remember. Maybe Jean?”

“It was two days!” Eren whines.

You’re not sure how the topic came up, but Jean humbled you very fast when you claimed that you were the first person that Eren ever liked. Apparently you weren’t because Eren had sported a two day crush on Mikasa when they were younger, before he ever met you, which left you embarrassed - but also ready to tease him to oblivion.

“Eremika…” you state.

Eren clamps his hand over your mouth, as you quickly shove him off.

“Shut up.” Eren states.

“It’s funny! Mikasa’s getting married and you’re stuck at a five-year old’s piano concert. With seats all the way in the back, mind you.”

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans back and sits on top of one of the desks. You follow suit, ignoring the little creak, as your legs swing over the top of the desk.

“What was your signature move in elementary school for the boys?”

“Was I supposed to have game as a seven year old?”

Eren scoffs.

“Well, we can’t all be talented.” Eren teases.

“I hardly qualify hair pulling as a game. That’s an annoying way to get attention.”

Eren smiles, leaning forward and curling his hands around a lock of your hair, before he lightly tugs. His face is so close to yours that you can make out the tiniest wrinkles in his skin, marked around his eyes.

“Annoyed?” Eren teases, his voice barely a whisper.

You shake your head, ever so slightly. A jarring movement feels too loud, like he’ll move away at the smallest of breaths, like a deer in the woods.

“Down to my very core.” you respond.

Eren smiles, the wrinkles even more pronounced, as you almost lean your forehead against his, skin ghosting each others. The thoughts are racing at this point, so fast that Eren can barely feel his breaths.

Is he ever going to be in love with someone who isn’t you?

“I feel the need to clarify. It was two days.” Eren states.

“Two days of hopeless pining.”

“Nothing compared to the three years of it that I did with you.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning.

He knows. It's written all over your face.

“Nothing compares to a puppy-love childhood crush.” you state.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get the whole innocence of the puppy-love thing, but nothing pales comparison to the intensity of a teenage dream.” Eren states.

Eren watches your eyes waver and feels his throat constrict.

You know. It's written all over his face.

Thankfully for him, and less so for you, Sukuna ruins the movement. His shouting from the doorway breaks that quiet bubble, quickly pulling you both farther away from each other.

“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s starting in five minutes.”

You and Eren settle into your seats at the back, right by the door, as the lights dim in the little auditorium. They’re a warm golden, the smell of fresh paint tickling your nostrils.

Sitting all the way in the back has you and Eren weaving your heads around all the people crowded in front of you, the tiny cell phone lights illuminating each row.

You catch sight of Lana and Sukuna are aggressively gesturing at Teddy on the stage from their cushy seats in the front row at your left - Sukuna trying to get him to smile for a picture while Lana tries to signal to him to fix his untied shoelaces. The coddling makes your heart burn.

Eren digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a little camcorder that he hands to you.

“For?” you ask.

“Can you record it for me? I just…want to watch him in real time.”

You smile.

“Of course, I can.” you murmur, taking the little camera from him and flipping it open in your hands.

“Don’t record the other kids. I don’t give a fuck.” Eren states.

“Who knew you felt so passionately about kindergarten piano concert etiquette?” you jeer.

“You would be shocked. Lana’s basically out of storage by the time she gets to Teddy.” Eren groans.

You roll your eyes.

“I think it’s sweet.”

Eren wonders if there’s anything you can’t find the good in. His wavering suspicion is that it’s him - that you’re the worst thing he’s ever seen. So tainted that there’s barely any semblance of light left in him.

Eren’s hanging onto the end of your words, wanting to hear the spiral of thoughts running through your mind. Your affinity to look towards the positive, to soak up all the good, to point out all the love in the room - it was something he found himself chasing even though he knew he was barely half deserving of it.

“I just mean…when I was younger, my mom would tell me that my friend’s mom recorded me singing too and then sent it to her. And I was always really touched that they saw me and didn’t think god, it’s another kid I have to sit through. Like no, that’s Y/N! That’s my daughter’s friend.”

Eren deflates. He figures that it comes so naturally for you - seeing the good - because he thinks the law of attraction is real; that like attracts like, that people find what’s similar to them. And that he always seems to be the antithesis to it.

He’s always the exception to your rule.

“And some parents are late. They’re running here from work, or…or they were late because they had another kid to take care of first and…and it still makes the kid feel special, even if they don’t know it.” you whisper.

You twist the camera around in your hands as Eren gives you a lopsided smile, an underlying sentiment you can’t really place mirrored in his features. You’d memorize his expression just to agonize about it later, in the safe confines of your room, but your train of thought is cut off by a tapping on your shoulder.

It’s a little girl - with dark skin and braided hair - barely the age of seven. Her little legs can’t even reach the tan colored floor, her sparkly purple shoes glittering in the dim light.

“Hi.” she states.

Eren leans over, a cautious arm on the small of your back, as you lean your head closer to hers and whisper.

“Hi. Is something wrong?” you whisper.

“Our dresses are matching colors.” she states.

You look down - the white flowers printed on your dress matching her frilly pleats. It’s an painfully relieving breath, as you give her a smile.

“My name’s Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Y/N? Like the pop artist?”

You freeze, freezing cold ice shooting down your spine.

“I wish my mom named me after someone cool. My name’s Grace. It was my grandma’s name.”

You can barely muster out a response, Eren’s fingertips at your side squeezing shaking the shock out of your mind.

“I’m sure your grandma was pretty cool.” you respond, barely registering the words as they leave your lips.

“I mean, yeah. She was old. But no one’s as cool as Y/N L/N.” she responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You can see Eren smiling out of your peripheral vision, giving a polite nod to the parents seated at her side, who’ve now caught onto the fact that their daughter is talking to a complete stranger. Eren’s quick to diffuse the situation, holding out a hand to them.

“I’m Eren. This is Y/N. We’re here for Teddy. Curly blonde hair, big brown eyes?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry…did you say your name was Y/N?”

You give them a sheepish smile, bringing your hands to the coarse skin above your elbows and pinching.

“That’s right.”

“Our daughter’s a really big fan.” they state.

You smile, looking back down at her dark eyes, this time wide in shock.

“Is that right?” you ask, trying to give her the warmest smile you can.

Her parents lean down closer to her ears, the overwhelming sense of a flowery perfume taking over your senses, as you watch them talk to her, softly.

“Okay. Ask her nicely, okay?” they ask.

Grace gives them an obedient nod, before turning to you and puffing her chest out to you.

“Can I have a hug?”

“Oh. You…you want a hug?”

“Please? It’ll be quick.” she asks, her little voice shrill with a hopeful tone.

There’s a soft sense of elation that spreads through you, your cheeks warm at such an innocent request, as you can barely stop your arms from shaking. You open up your arms to her, as she nearly jumps into your embrace, and you squeeze her little frame as tightly as you can. The smell of strawberries wafts off her hair, accompanied by a soft giggling sound in your ear that nearly brings tears to your eyes.

You look up to find her parents, an awkward pinched smile in their eyes, as you give them a polite smile.

“I promise, I’ll take a picture with her after the show, okay? And if I forget, please come find me and remind me.”

The relief is apparent in their faces - their sickeningly grateful smiles over something as simple as a picture - as you let go and she settles back into the seat next to you.

You have to settle for recording Teddy with one hand, a deathlike grip in the camera, only because Grace refuses to let go of your other hand for the rest of the show.

Eren’s surprisingly really good with kids. Or really, not surprisingly at all, because you were finding it hard to identify something that Eren was really bad at. Because even the mistakes he did make were so painfully endearing, so warmly thoughtful that you could barely accost him for it.

He's making jokes with all the kids - participating in their rock paper scissors contests, playing pranks on their parents, and stealing cookies for them when people aren't looking.

You guys are the last ones to leave the school. But it’s only because Eren’s so enthralled with talking to all the passing people - taking pictures, signing napkins, and making phone calls to all their loved ones - that it makes your chest swell.

The narrowed eyes still make you nervous, an underlying feeling of inadequacy - of embarrassment for hiding out for so long - is all but nauseating, something Sukuna picks up on right after Eren.

He lets Lana take the lead on the pictures and mingling with all the parents, apparently something that was Sukuna’s forté, as he keeps his arm linked with yours, backs cold against the cement wall.

“You know, you can go make your rounds with Lana. I don’t want to ruin your son’s piano concert for you.” you state.

“This shit is overrated.”

You smile.

“You’re lying.” you state.

Sukuna looks over at you, brown eyes fixed on yours, as you watch a smile curl on his face. It’s almost boyish - and it’s the first time that you’re acutely aware of the fact that Sukuna’s probably the youngest one here - living a life so vastly different from yours.

“I am lying.” Sukuna states.

“Do you like it here, Sukuna?” you whisper.

“I’m better at this than I was at the whole - award show, celebrity world thing. People here are really easily impressed.”

“Is that right?”

“I handed a woman a lemonade earlier and she said God bless you. Over a fucking lemonade.”

“That’s just basic human decency, sweetheart. Were you raised by wolves?” you ask.

Sukuna scoffs.

“Basically.” he responds.

You hum in response, watching Lana crouch on the ground and press her cheek to Teddy’s as Eren quickly snaps the picture for them.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sukuna asks.

“Is me saying no going to stop you?” you ask.

“Probably not.”

“Proceed.” you respond.

“So, what did you really do for two years? And don’t give me the same shitty bullshit as last time. I want to know what it was that you did.” he responds, tone unrelenting.

You pause, mulling over the question. You knew it would come soon enough, the utter bleakness of it all, but you suppose it's like ripping off a bandaid. That it'll become softer to talk about after you do it so many times.

“It’s not pretty.” you respond.

“I’ve always thought you were really ugly. It’s hardly a difference for me.”

“Lovely. In a world of boys, you really are a gentleman, Sukuna.”

He grins, nursing the glass of lemonade in his hand.

“To be a woman is to perform. Now, tell.” Sukuna responds.

The truth of the matter is that there’s nothing to tell. Because you didn’t do anything.

“I got home from doing the interview and spent the entire week with Falco and Colt. I-I basically didn’t let them leave my side. Falco slept with me at night, Colt basically watched over me like a hawk.”

It’s a crashing plate, worried eyes, and an embarrassingly debilitating loss.

“And then Falco came into my room one day and told me that The Lucky One sold more vinyls than all of my other albums combined, in one week.” you state.

“Non-fluff shit prevails. I’ve been telling you.”

“I didn’t approve of that album being distributed as vinyl. For physical sales - at all. It wasn’t about the money or the records or- or any of that. And when Falco told me, I-”

Sukuna looks over, at the lump in your throat. He knows the feeling too well - the sweaty skin, the heavy tongue, and slips his hand into yours at his side.

“I broke his phone.” you state.

“What?”

“I took it from his hands and I smashed it. Then my own too. That’s partially why I never called you guys. I didn’t exactly memorize your numbers and I wasn’t in a position where I was going to just ask for them back.” you state.

“Not like you would have called anyways.” Sukuna states.

“I only knew Mikasa was having an engagement party because she sent me a physical invitation. Only knew Marco died because of the news. I-I barely knew what any of them were doing when I was gone, still.”

You bite your tongue, the tiniest metallic taste enveloping your mouth, as you pull the now warm, puffed up flesh away from your teeth.

“I knew that if I came back, it would mean I would be sucked back into it. What’s your response going to be, hint at it with this song, come back like this and…I’d rather lock myself in my house then do that again. I love songwriting, but not enough to sacrifice my dignity. I enjoyed my career but it drained the life out of me.”

Sukuna’s lip twitches. You choose to ignore it for the time being.

“I took up different hobbies. Got a sewing machine, made sourdough from scratch, I even learned flower arranging. But, I could tell that I must have seemed like I was off my rocker or something. My parents and my brothers never really left my side, I could tell that they were always worrying about me, and-and I hated that because-”

Sukuna stops you before you get too choked up, now standing in front of you, his back blocking the sight of you from any of the people milling around the courtyard.

“I know that’s a shitty answer. That I should have been doing something worthwhile. But, but- I was fucking tired. I was done doing all this and I can’t exactly…be a functioning member of society or something. I can barely stand here without people giving me a second look or trying to get a discreet picture.” you whisper.

“I just wanted to know. I’m not giving you shit for it.” he whispers.

You frown.

“You aren’t. But maybe you should.”

You look over his shoulder, at Eren squishing Teddy’s cheeks with his fingers as Lana takes a picture of them - far too close to barely even get the two of them in it together.

“He fought for me when I wasn’t even here anymore. I was moping in my house, breaking plates whenever I got frustrated, and he was still moving forward.” you murmur.

Sukuna pauses.

“Y/N. Don’t do that. I need you to be so careful with what the fuck you do after you leave here.”

The sense of urgency in his voice catches you off guard.

“What?”

“Y/N. It won’t happen if you’re careless. You cannot wallow in your own pity about this, I need you to tread lightly, okay?”

“What won’t happen?”

Sukuna glares at you.

“You and him. You could spend years pointing fingers at each other, who didn’t do what. You won’t get him back if you stay there when he’s moved forward.”

“I don’t want him.” you whisper.

You barely believe it when it comes out of your mouth.

“You disgust me, Y/N.” he states.

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

“And you’ve always had a lack of critical thinking. Why wouldn’t you want him?”

“Why would he want me?”

“He just does. The same way you just do.”

You swallow hard.

“Fine. Be a fucking idiot for all I care. If you do ever knock some sense into that thick fucking skull of yours, just be careful. Eren knows that he has to prove he cares about you for you to come back to him. You need to know that he barely thinks he’s deserving of anything from you, so much so, that he won’t ever make the move.”

Sukuna doesn’t mince his words. You wish he could have you through every important decision of your life just so you wouldn’t stumble and fall as much as you did.

“Eren’s called the shots since you were fifteen. You’re going to have to call all the next ones. And for the love of god, really. I’m so tired of that fucking freeloader showing up whenever he pleases. And you look really ugly when you look sad, so just do it right please.”

You smile.

“Are you insinuating I’m pretty when I don’t look sad?”

“I hope you fall off a bridge and never recover.” Sukuna responds.

The sniffling cues Eren onto the fact that you’re crying. The air pressure of the plane is overwhelming in his ears, almost so loud that he misses it, but he counts himself lucky that you’ve always been an obscenely loud crier. He peeks his head over the division over your seats and reaches forward to poke your head.

“Hey. You okay?” he asks.

You give him a meek nod. You know for a fact that he doesn’t believe it for one second.

“Can I come over there for a second? I don’t want to talk from so far away.” Eren asks.

“Isn’t that like…illegal? Two people in one seat.” you murmur.

“This is first class, the seat is basically a bed. And there’s no laws in the air.”

You frown.

“Eren. Laws still exist in the air. They’re just local.”

Eren smiles.

“Well, aren’t you a little genius? Scooch over.”

You shift on the seat, pulling your blanket closer to you as Eren very precariously makes his way over to your seat, the two of you almost cramped in the small space. It’s almost funny how there’s barely any room, your foreheads pressed together from the lack of space.

“Hey.” he whispers.

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong, Margaret?”

You shake your head. His hands are warm on your sides.

“Come on. Tell me. I’m really good at fixing problems.”

“I know.”

Eren can’t place what the tone is in your voice - but it comes out all strained and raspy - that it rubs him the wrong way.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” you clarify.

“Which way do you mean it?” Eren asks.

You sigh.

“I mean. You handled everything considerably well, even if it wasn’t easier for you. You…you waited until I was ready to hear it, until I asked to be told your side of the story. And you put it all together, wrapped in a perfect bow with that documentary, and then took me to see Lana and Sukuna too because you knew I’d want to.” you mumble.

“Wrapped in a ribbon. Who the fuck calls it a bow?”

You roll your eyes, earning you a laugh from Eren that’s so loud it makes you laugh too. You reach forward to clamp your fingers over his mouth, muffling the loud sound, as you shush him loudly.

Eren pauses.

“I’m glad it worked. And I had a lot of time to think. You don’t have as much, but…we’ll help you. With whatever you want to do.” Eren states.

You give him a nod, unsatisfied with the answer.

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

You fish out the little slip of your pocket, nearly smushing your face into his in the process, and place the little paper in his hand.

“This is…Satoru Gojo’s phone number?” Eren asks.

“Yeah. I got it from Sukuna.”

“For what purpose?”

You pause.

“I’m going to bury Scott Clarkson into the ground.”

Eren’s caught off by the answer.

“You’re what?”

“What answer were you expecting?”

“I’m not mad at it. I was just thinking more…I want to write music again. I’m not a quitter.”

You frown.

“I thought about that. But it hasn’t exactly worked for me like that. I even tried when I was at the beach but I came up with nothing. But that’s not relevant, I don’t need to write music to end him.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. But it’s better that way. Using exactly what they tried to take away from you to get back at them.” Eren responds.

You smile.

“You’ll help me?”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I’d do anything for you. Even this. Especially this.”

You smile. You reach forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard.

“Thank you. And I get what you’re saying about the music, but it just isn’t happening, so we’ll have to think of something else.”

“I have an idea. When we get back to set, okay? I think it’ll help.” Eren states.

You nod.

“Okay. I trust you.” you respond.

The sentiment sends a shiver down Eren’s spine.

“I don’t know how it’ll go. I can’t promise that it’ll work out the way we want it.” Eren clarifies.

You smile.

“I was trusting you to help me get back into songwriting, not into bringing him down. I’m talking about help into being…myself again.”

Eren’s eyes flicker, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. You almost swear that you imagined it.

“Do you think I’m different?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

You pale.

“Do you hate me for it?” you ask.

Eren shakes his head.

“I like you better like this.” he whispers.

Eren reaches forward, tucking the loose hairs back behind your ear, before his warm fingers are secured around the nape of your neck. He does it a second time, looks at your lips, and this time you swear the corners of his mouth are twitching too.

“You weren’t very confident when I met you, almost like you didn’t think you were cut out to do this. Unsure of why you even had a place in the room. Then you went so far away from me, worked yourself so hard, that I barely remember you even smiling at any of us anymore. You were angry, then you were heartbroken, and apparently you broke a lot of plates when you weren’t with any of us?”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m going to kill Falco.”

“Colt.” Eren corrects.

You scoff.

“No way. Eren, he kind of hates you.”

“Kind of? Colt was ready to punch me in the face when he first got to set. Rightfully so.” Eren responds.

“It’s actually not rightfully so. He didn’t even know what you did.” you state.

Eren pauses.

“I know. He got here and asked me first thing what it was I did to you. Then he wanted to punch me in the face when I told him.”

You shrug. You can tell that Eren’s waiting for an explanation - green eyes looking at you expectantly as you give him a nod.

“It felt wrong to talk to him about it. Falco knew you a little bit better, but even for him…they would just start bad mouthing you just to make me feel good. But that would just make me feel worse because…I don’t get it. Hating someone just because things went wrong.”

You crack your knuckles.

“It’s like Ricky. I can badmouth him. He was horrible. He’s a bad person and he literally left me out there to rot just to embarrass me. He did it to Lana, to Teddy. You…I just thought you didn’t like me. I couldn’t really fault you for how you felt. And I loved you. I don't get off on talking shit about you when you were my entire world.”

Eren smiles.

“You had every right to badmouth me.”

“But that’s the thing. I just didn’t want to. Even if things ended badly, you still made me really happy. We still did this entire thing together and-”

“We’ll finish it together.”

You smile, giving him a nod.

“You know when you’re in a relationship and you feel like you get to see a different side of that person? Because you’re so close?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.”

“That’s how you came back to us. Feeling close again. A fresh slate, back to what drew us all to you in the first place. So many things in this industry, in this job are so fake. I mean our job is to literally pretend. You are an overwhelmingly genuine person. Even more so now. You are different. We’re all going to love you for it.” Eren states.

For someone who’s so convinced he’s horrible with words, Eren always seems to have the perfect ones for you.

“Will you leave if things go south?” you ask.

“No.”

“Then we can do this. I’m positive.” you state.

“What makes you so sure?”

You squeeze Eren's hand three times.

“I don’t have anything to lose, Eren.”

When you get back to set the following morning, you don’t miss Connie very loudly whispering with Eren behind you. You’re positive Jean and Mikasa are eavesdropping just as much as you are, their eyes fixed a little too hard waiting for Eren’s response.

Did you guys kiss?

No, Connie, am I crazy?

It makes your heart sink a little bit, but you ignore it as Eren comes up at your side, giving you a bright smile. He reaches for the little glass jar to your left and gives you a wink before he calls for everyone’s attention.

“First things first, Falco. Good job on press. That was one of the funniest fucking interviews I’ve seen in my life.”

Falco laughs, as you turn your head to the side, pretending to do a little bow as everyone pats him on the back, and you look at Mikasa.

“What did I miss?”

Mikasa smiles, pulling up the video at your side.

“Levi’s direction was to not answer any questions about you. Naturally, that was all they asked about so we all decided to coordinate our answers and basically say that we didn’t know you.” Mikasa states.

“What?”

“It sounds stupid, but it was so funny. Some of them started actually believing it. And Falco took it so far, he started pretending like he wasn’t even related to you.”

Mikasa hands you the phone as you play the video, barely containing your laughter at how stupid the video is. Falco’s so confident in his words, so self-assured that it’s making Gabi burst out into laughter, and obviously messes with the interviewer so bad that they can’t even continue.

It makes you happier than it should - their first experience being so overwhelmingly positive.

“And we all wore ribbons in our hair, which didn’t help matters anyway.” Mikasa states.

“Levi’s a menace. He’s milking this so much.” you state.

“That was actually my idea.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean-”

“I know. I just want you coming back to be a big deal. It’s not an easy thing for you to do. You’re going to get every bit of hype for it.”

You smile, reaching forward to link arms with her, as Eren makes a booing sound.

“Are you done? Can I talk now?”

You shove Eren.

“Stop being rude.”

“I’m not being rude. You guys interrupted me.”

“Why were you talking before us? That’s so inconsiderate of you.” Mikasa states.

You laugh as Eren rolls his eyes, handing each of them a tiny white slip and a marker, before he takes his spot next to you and gives you a big smile.

“Y/N is going to write a song. Multiple actually. I want you to write down ideas for her and she’s going to pull one out every morning and read it to us. Then she has to play whatever she came up with, even if it was only one line, at the end of that day.” Eren states.

“Eren.” you start.

“No buts. You guys know the drill.”

You watch as everyone follows his instructions, excitedly whispering to each other as their pens move, and you look over at Eren. He drops his own slip into the cup, the first one, with his name neatly looped on the outside as he gives you a smile.

“I’m not going to be able to write anything.” you state.

“Well, you heard the rules. You’ll have to write something.”

“Eren.”

He shakes his head, handing you his journal, opening it to the marked page as you flip through the sheets.

“I did this a while back, when I was getting back into it. It helps a lot more than you think. And you can ask the person who gave you the slip for help if you really need it, but that person only.”

You take the book for him, watching everyone give you excited smiles as the cup fills up just as fast, and flip though the pages.

“write a song about me and sukuna” And underneath, the lyrics to a song called Daylight.

“write a song about connie’s one year anniversary of being sober” with Levi’s distinct handwriting and the lyrics to a song called Forever Winter scribbled messily on the page.

And the last one makes your throat bob in your chest.

“write a song about y/n”

You read over the lyrics, pressing your fingers against the ink, as you fervently read the lyrics.

We didn't know that we had it all But nobody warns you before the fall Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call

I'm facing the greatest The greatest loss of them all The culture is lit and I had a ball I guess I'm signing off after all

You look up at him, his attention drawn away as he shuffles the cup in his hand to mix up the slips and then holds the cup out to you. Everyone’s watching, waiting for you to pull a piece, as you set the book down, and give them all a meek nod.

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, and an obscene amount of screaming from Connie and Sasha, as you close your eyes and pull out the first paper. You open up the little slip, floored by how random the request is.

“Write a song about upstaging someone's wedding. Connie.” you state.

A resounding smack fills the room - as you look over to find Jean hitting Connie.

“I told you not to put that in.” Jean yells.

“What? It’s funny! Eren said random stuff helps with this.” Connie defends.

“Dumbass. You just had to write something about ruining a wedding?” Jean grates.

“Who the fuck said it was about you, you egomaniac?” Sasha asks, reaching forward to flick his forehead.

“Who else is getting married, dumbass?” Jean responds.

“Why are you so mad? You’re clearly projecting your own personal issues.” Connie states, as Jean and Sasha follow him out of the room, their shouts filling up the quiet air.

Eren turns to you, a bright smile on his face. You want to smack him.

“I’ll see you tonight. Fully written song and all.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as he walks past.

You groan, leaning your head on Mikasa’s shoulder, as you hand her the little slip.

“Eren’s so fucking annoying sometimes. How am I supposed to write a song about this?” you complain.

“You’ll think of something. You’re amazing.” Mikasa states.

“I um…actually got you something. And I had something I wanted to ask.”

You took Sukuna’s words seriously. And had every intention to make amends.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah. It’s a keychain.”

You pull it out, the little penguin charm hanging off the end, as she takes it into her hands. It makes your heart swell - the way she carefully turns it over in her fingers, the excited smile on her face.

“Thank you so much, Y/N.”

“It’s kind of stupid but…it’s blue? Like something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you state.

Mikasa’s smile gets wider, her shoulders relaxing as she reaches forward to give you a hug.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“It’s just a penguin.” you murmur.

“Maybe to someone else. But I haven’t forgotten that we watched Happy Feet at midnight the day we were supposed to film the Colossal Titan reveal and almost missed shooting that day.” she states.

You can barely contain your elation this time. That Mikasa remembers the memory just as well as you do. You both laugh for a second before you muster the courage to ask.

“Listen. I want to ask something but I don’t want to overstep so know that you can say no.” you state.

“Okay.”

“I know that we have our own rooms, but I wanted to ask if you wanted to share again? Colt and Porco always snore and…and you have your entire life to share a room with Jean but only a few more months to share one with me?” you mumble, voice nearly shaking.

Mikasa brings her hands to your shoulders, squeezing hard as she can barely contain your smile.

“Really? You really want to share with me?” she asks.

“Are you crazy? You’re like the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really. Falco kicks, Colt smells, Porco snores, and Eren’s nothing compared to you. You're like a princess compared to them.”

Mikasa smiles.

“Deal. Lets go switch the signs - to their rightful places - right now.”

“What if Jean disagrees?” you ask.

Mikasa rolls her eyes.

“He can choke for all I care.” Mikasa states, linking her arm in with yours as you both pound up the stairs right to the hallway.

You take the marker, scribbling out Mikasa and Jean’s names (and Connie’s comments underneath) as you hand her the marker to do the honors. You both admire the little sign together, arms wrapped around each other, as Eren, Connie, and Jean join you two.

“What the fuck?” Jean asks.

You smile at him.

“Sorry. Not your room anymore.” you respond.

“One could argue that it was never really yours in the first place, Jean.” Mikasa states.

“Dude, you guys are so annoying.” Jean states.

“Did you just call your fiance, dude?” Eren asks, earning him a shove from Jean.

Connie comes up at Mikasa’s side, taking the marker from her hands, and adding his signature comment to finish off the new sign. You look over at him and smile, tugging him into your hug with Mikasa - as you all admire the door.

Y/N-MIKA FOREVER!!!

And underneath, Connie’s lopsided handwriting:

WE’RE SOOO FUCKING BACK

You understand why everyone was crowding you and Eren when they thought you were going to kiss in season two. It’s because you got to set early to make sure you got a good seat for Falco and Gabi’s love confession - so excited that you could barely eat your lunch.

You can’t help but watch them a few feet away from you, nervously kicking their legs on their chairs, as your notebook lays forgotten in front of you.

There’s a group of shitty lyrics on the page, so embarrassing that you shut the page as Eren approaches and takes the seat next to you and Mikasa.

“I wasn’t going to read them, silly goose.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as you tuck the book under your ankles.

“Good. I’d kill you before you tried.”

“Wow. Standing up weddings has you that mad?”

“The opposite actually.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes as he scooches closer to you, halfheartedly shaking Levi’s hand as he passes. You look over to Falco and Gabi again - the two of them increasingly nervous, Gabi more so for some reason, as you lean over and whisper into Eren's ear.

“Ten bucks this pushes their real love confession ten years into the future.” you state.

“What?”

“Think about it. We had to kiss and it pushed things back basically a year and a half because we got all flustered and confused. Falco’s doing a whole bit, they’re going to be nervous about this for years.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes, reaching forward to elbow you in the side.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m right! The same thing happened with Hange and Levi.” you defends.

“Rookie mistake, Y/N. Do I know your little brother better than you? He’s not half as pussy as you or Levi.”

“Touché, asshole. If he likes her so bad, why hasn’t he said it yet?” you respond.

“He’s a romantic. He’s waiting for the right time.” Eren responds.

You look over at the two of them, splitting a box of Tic-Tacs, as Levi walks back to his cues and sets up the cameras.

“Think about it. In a relationship, you’re either a Hange or a Levi. You’re either a Jean or a Mikasa. Falco’s obviously more like Mikasa and Levi. And Gabi’s like Jean and Hange. She has to make the move.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. Gabi’s the Levi and Falco’s the Hange.” Eren responds, nearly offended at your statement.

“Are you an idiot?”

“Watch. I’ll prove it to you.”

Eren pushes up off the floor, dragging Niccolo along with him, as they two of them approach Gabi and Falco. You’re not sure what they’re whispering - but you can tell that Falco and Gabi are flustered by the premise - and Eren and Niccolo are far too elated as Eren walks back over to you, this time with Niccolo in tow.

“Hi Nico.”

“Hi Y/N.”

You look over at Eren, glaring at him, as he gives you a sheepish shrug.

“Okay, guys. We’re going to start rolling. Falco, Gabi, you ready?”

“Yeah.” they respond in unison, giving each other a little fist bump as they take their seats on the floor.

“Was no one going to ask me? I’m in this scene too.” Colt complains, earning a fit of laughter from the crew.

Everyone quiets down as the lights dim on the set, the group of you hunching forward, trying to contain your smiles as you look at each other. It’s only then that you’re reminded of how good Falco and Gabi are at acting, the painstaking agony in their voice almost making you shiver.

“I helped make the attack on Liberio happen. I met a wounded soldier at that hospital, and without knowing it was Eren Jaeger, I sent letters from him to his allies using the mailboxes outside the zone.” Falco starts.

Mikasa leans over to look at Eren, mouthing the words “fucking bastard” as you try to contain your laughs. Levi gives the four of you a warning glance, as you muster out an apologetic smile.

“A lot of people died in Liberio. So….it’s my fault that Udo and Zofia died.” Falco finishes.

“I see…” Gabi responds.

Falco swallows hard, a pink blush on his cheeks, as you all excitedly smile.

“Also, I love you. I didn’t want you to inherit the Armored Titan. That’s why I became a warrior candidate. So…so that we could get married…and be happy forever.”

Gabi’s as red as a tomato. You almost feel bad for teasing the two of them so hard but it’s so endearing it makes your heart squeeze.

“I wanted you to live a long life!” Falco shouts.

“What are you saying?” Gabi responds.

“I might turn into a Titan at any moment. I just wanted to get it all out there before I’m gone for good.”

It's silent - leave for Gabi's tears before she quickly stands up. You watch as Gabi aggressively wrestles with Falco, pulling off the little black band secured around his waist, before she throws it on the ground, her chest heaving.

You sincerely hope Levi campaigns for them to win an award for this one.

Levi calls cut, as Hange runs up to the two of them, excitedly cheering them both on as they avert their gaze from each other. Eren’s quick to jump up, grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you up to the group of them, a devious smirk on his face.

Niccolo’s quick to join his side, the two of them crossing their arms over their chest and smirking at Falco, as he sighs.

“Really, guys?” Falco asks.

“Really. You agreed to it, little dude.” Eren states.

Falco rolls his eyes, nervously eyeing Gabi - who is excitedly jumping up and down in front of a very unamused Levi - before he walks over to her and plants a big kiss on her cheek. The group of you all gasp, Gabi’s skin burning red, as Falco runs away, claiming he needs to go to the bathroom.

Niccolo and Eren are fist bumping at your side and Eren’s turns to you, irritatingly positioned with his hands on his hips, as he smiles at you.

“Told you so.” Eren states.

“What the hell did that prove?”

“It’s simple. I asked Falco if he wanted to play a game of Truth or Dare. Then, I asked him to kiss his favorite person on the cast on the cheek after the scene was over. Told him to run right up to you and do it since I knew for a fact you’re his favorite.”

“Eren, you little-”

“Falco is most definitely the Hange or the Jean of the relationship. Would even go as far to argue that he might even be the boldest.” Eren states.

You groan, the two of you walking past Gabi and Falco near the snack table, a sizable distance away from each other and nearly sweating in the presence of each other. You and Eren shoot them a thumbs up, and Eren continues to gloat all the way back to the house.

At the end of the workday, Eren’s gathered everyone in the main room in a big crowd, doing nothing to help your nerves, as you give them all a smile and loop the guitar strap over your shoulder and sit on the bench.

“Okay. Repeat the request, Y/N.” Eren guides, the group of them all giving you warm smiles.

Mikasa and Sasha blow you a kiss, Porco and Connie with overenthusiastic thumbs up, and Eren’s smile pushing you on.

“Right. The request was ‘write a song about standing up a wedding’ and it was from Connie.” you state.

You swallow hard as you shut the book and place it under the bench and start strumming on the guitar to warm up.

“Be nice to me guys. I called this one Speak Now.”

I am not the kind of girl Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion But you are not the kind of boy Who should be marrying the wrong girl

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, Connie and Mikasa clapping along with the sound as everyone else follows suit. You can feel your head pounding, your voice slightly shaking as you continue on and the guitar strings uncomfortably burning your fingers.

I sneak in and see your friends And her snotty little family all dressed in pastel And she is yelling at a bridesmaid Somewhere back inside a room Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry

Mikasa scoffs.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Everyone laughs, including you, as you shake your head and blow her a kiss before continuing. She makes the little gesture at you - like she’s catching the kiss in the air and tucking it into her pocket. You can feel Jean rolling his eyes at your side.

Don't say yes, run away now I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door Don't wait, or say a single vow You need to hear me out And they said, "Speak now"

The rest of the song goes relatively smoothly, the excitement from the group of them making your heart soar, that block in your throat dissolve.

Sasha’s trapped Niccolo in her arms and has been aggressively swinging him around for the past minute, Porco and Gabi locking their fingers together to do a little swing dance, and Hange, Armin, and Eren bobbing their heads in unison at the side.

The group of them all give you a deafening sound of applause when you finish, aggressive hugs and kisses being placed on your cheeks as they all applaud you - claiming your brilliance - as you feel your cheeks burn with excitement.

Eren’s the last one to approach you, an almost too satisfied with himself smile on his face for the second time today, as you give him your most peachy smile.

“Like it?” you ask.

“Loved it. You’ve still got it.” Eren states.

“You know it.”

“Can I give you one note?” Eren asks.

“Please.”

“The last verse. You have to change it.”

“What? Why?” you ask.

“It’s a good repeat. But I’m more curious…did the guy from the song leave the altar for her?”

You nod, giving him a smile, as you reach for the book, and gesture for him to sit next to you on the bench. You quickly jumble the lyrics onto the page, nearly misspelling half of the words, before you hand it to him for inspection.

And you'll say, "Let's run away now" I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door Baby, I didn't say my vows So glad you were around When they said, "Speak now"

"Always a sucker for a happy ending. It's perfect." Eren states.

He gives you a glimmering smile, making your heart skip a beat as his hand brushes against yours. Eren pulls out the little slip from earlier today, taping it right above the lyrics.

He gives you a last pinch of the cheek before pushing off the bench, leaving your entire body burning at his praise.

“That’s my girl. I didn’t doubt you for even a second.”

You pause.

"Eren?"

He turns back, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

"Ask me who my favorite person on set is."

"What?"

"Ask me."

"Why would I-"

"Can you just do it?"

Eren turns back, hands at his side.

"Who's your favorite person on set?" Eren asks.

You walk up to his side, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. You hope that he understands - that you're overwhelmingly thankful for him. For the documentary, the days in Seattle, and the lifeline he always throws you. That you'll always be indebted to him.

"It's you." you whisper.

Eren's cheeks are pink.

"Is that right?" Eren asks, the tone in his voice teasing.

"Don't push your luck." you state.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Eren responds, as he gives you one last cheek pinch before leaving you alone with the piano.

Singing the song, strumming the guitar - it's almost like stretching an old muscle, flexing out the soreness. You're so excited that you reach for the cup on top of the piano to start writing the next one right away. But when your read the slip, you feel your mouth go dry.

you love someone with your entire being, and all they do is tolerate it

And at the bottom, a name scribbled in messy handwriting

Jean.

next part linked here

an: OK GUYS. WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME NOW!!! sorry its kind of boring but we die like men

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejgg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-morii @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv @cowgirlikets @dreamxiing @mamamammarga @tangerine-neonlight

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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sunboki · 1 year

Text

WHEN SKZ REALIZE THEY WANT TO MARRY YOU

including; ot8

notes; in conclusion, this is a collection of things i’ve daydreamed abt in class.. enjoy

*lowercase intended

BANGCHAN’s favrorite thing is when you cuddle him. that’s it. just kidding. perhaps it’s the way you look at him, eyes filled with so much love. he usually has to look away in order to maintain his sanity, which doesn’t last long anyway. “you’re so pretty Chan.” your voice, soft and saccharine sweet as you admire—gently holding his cheeks in your hands. he giggles like a lovestruck kid, the tips of his ears flushing a pretty pink. then his mind wanders. wanders to what he would give to experience this with you every day, wake up next to you every day, listen to your voice every day. he wouldn’t be surprised if one of these days he explodes from all the torture his heart puts up with because of your antics. it floors him. no less Hannah teases him about how whipped he is on FaceTime and continuously tells you that she would treat you better. jokingly, of course. or..?

MINHO bids you goodbye, already missing your presence even though you’re simply getting snacks from the supermarket down the street. he’d never admit it, as always. that is until the gentle lull of rain greets him from outside. then it hits him. it’s raining? you don’t have an umbrella with you, do you? cue a worried Minho racing through the downpour in search of you, the last thing he wanted is for you to catch a cold. it’s straight out a kdrama when you step from the entryway with your bags in each hand, gazing at your exhausted boyfriend drenched in rain. without a care you skip towards him, ignoring his obvious distress whilst he shouts a warning to wait for him under the awning. “Baby.. i was gonna bring the umbrella to you. you better not catch a cold.” he scolds, quickly opening the umbrella currently sheltering you two. “you’re so cute Min.” you kiss his nose thoughtfully. he’s blushing red.

CHANGBIN lives for your happiness. he’s accepted his role in life wholeheartedly or whole-chestedly without complaint. the story goes all the way back with Changbin, back when you’d just began dating and he was nervous wreck. before he’d shove his socks in your face just to get playfully slapped, giggling regardless. at the time you sat in their recording studio, listening to a few in-progress tracks 3racha was testing out. but it was when he was recording live, composing in front of you. he was beyond anxious that you wouldn’t like his rapping; until he made eye contact with you. that look. he can’t describe it. was it admiration, awe? whatever it was, he loved it. no, he’d die for you to look at him like that—look at anything like that for the record. such pure and raw happiness he treasured so deeply. that’s when Seo Changbin’s mind flipped a switch to a ‘i need to be with you forever’ mode.

HYUNJIN took you ice skating. not the sweet and romantic ice skating where it looks like you’re both floating on ice, hand in hand. but the ice skating where you’re basically clawing down him like a disoriented cat. granted, Hyunjin isn’t the best skater either, but you make him look like a pro. “tell me why i ever agreed to this.” you grumble, cursing your balance. “hold onto me, love.” your boyfriend instructs, mitten clad hands holding your own with a reassuring squeeze you can’t help but feebly return. slowly but surely he maneuvers you along the ice, guiding your movements oh so carefully. having Hyunjin beside you makes ice skating not as miserable. “i’m gonna be so bruised later.” you mumbled from the bench, watching him untie your skates calmly. and when he looks up to respond? bang. his heart shattered. your face is hidden in his red scarf, cheeks and nose a rosy pink and toboggan adding to the sweetness. he’s gone. oh to tattoo this adorable moment into his eyelids. easily clarification he wants your hand in marriage.

HAN sits on the windowsill. the soft thrum of raindrops hum against the pane, creating a peaceful ambience. he hears you move from your place snuggled in bed, searching for his absent presence. but for the busy Quokka, this is his napping time. he’d arrived home at an ungodly hour last night from the studio, gaze heavy from sleep deprivation as he stumbled into your sheets—still exhausted into the morning. as if for a moment his mind drifted elsewhere, subtly relaxing till his eyes snap back open from a minty smell wafting beside him. there you stood; his big t-shirt that hung off your shoulder lopsidedly, holding two mugs of warm mint tea. taking the cup happily, you watched him stare at you, apparently waiting for something. “c’mere, i’ll always sing lullabies for you.” you laugh at his pout, ushering him to lay down. that saturday he plopped his head onto your lap, listening to you hum him a quiet lullaby like a child. he’d never make it without this, without you. he preferred it that way.

FELIX had been chasing you down the street for 20 minutes, well, because of his own doing. why you were running? because you’d both made a bet that whoever got to the playground down the street from the convenience store faster got $20, and Felix was not one to back down. running as fast as his legs could take him, he just barely stepped foot into the sand when you screamed “i won!” which led to a very begrudging $20 being slapped in your hand. “not fair.” your boyfriend huffed, flopping onto one of the swings nearby to watch you dance around. “or maybe..” you got closer, leaning in with a menacing smile, “—not fast enough.” being sure to wave the crisp bill right in front of his face. “yah.. stop rubbing it in.” he dramatically deflated, hunching over. “ahh i’m just kidding.” you giggled, sitting beside him now as you reached your hand out for him to take the money. “buy us something with it, something fun.” and of course the ginormous rubber duck in the mall had came home with him the next day. something he called the “most fun in his life.” with freckles basically twinkling.. how could you resist.

SEUNGMIN peered over your shoulder, watching the numerous words be typed up on the screen. being the nice guy he was, Seungmin decided to help work on your paper with you. “this?” you pointed to the screen, then glanced back in his direction—not expecting your boyfriend to be wearing his glasses and all. you had to admit, it was beyond charming. he nodded quickly in reply, appearing more focused than you. however, the way your shoulders trembled with laughter didn’t go unnoticed, Seungmin cocking a playful brow. “what?” he teasingly hovered in front of your screen, dissolving you into louder a fit of laughter. “you’re just so handsome with glasses, Mr. Seungmin.” the title earned a snort from him, shaking his head. “or should i say, my husband.” the room got quiet. “..are we engaged?” another burst of giggles from you, he was so serious and it was breaking you. “no, but one day.” you promised softly, watching a big smile tug at his lips. so pretty now that he didn’t conceal that beautiful smile. “one day.”

JEONGIN didn’t waste time when he heard the smash of glass against your tile flooring echo along the halls. “i’m okay!” you call out quickly, but Jeongin was already there. and despite your assurance, you still had multiple cuts scattered along your now bloodied hands. “Don’t move.” your boyfriend gently instructed, carefully maneuvering around the glass to scoop you off your feet with ease—funny that the ‘baby’ of the group was so much stronger than expected, sitting you on the bathroom counter to patch up. “you shouldn’t just tell me you’re okay, you could’ve gotten really hurt.“ his knitted brows and jutting lip told you he was worried, and it utterly melted your heart. “let me take care of you sometimes. i love to take care of you.” he lied. he wanted to take care of you all the time, not just sometimes. to be the one putting bandaids on for you and sitting by your bedside when you were sick to kiss your forehead. god, did he mention you’d look stunning in wedding attire?

taglist — @starlostseungmin

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babygirl-riley · 5 months

Note

Hiiiiii sorry to bother- but i'm OBESSED with dad!Simon. have you seen those tiktoks of dad's crying while their baby girls get ear piercings? They look more in pain than the kid themselves?? I'd like to ask for a short drabble please!! ❤️❤️😩

Silent Treatment

Simon and your baby girl are shunning you after getting her ears pierced

A/N: ANON ANOOOON! Those tik toks make me laugh because it’s like damnnn those dads wanna fight mom soooo bad. 😭 But yes yes I love this idea!

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

You felt bad truly, you stood in the door frame as Simon didn’t look at you. Same with your infant daughter. “Si, we talked about it.”

Simon shook his head. “Doesn’ matter, she was in pain. Almost took the bitch’s head off,” Your daughter clanged to her father as she sighed into his shoulder. “We are not happy about it, aren’ we princess.” Simon said whispering to Millie.

You chuckled low before sighing. “Simon she is fine now. She isn’t even crying.”

“Her ears say oth’r wise.” He commented looking at her subsiding red ears.

You smirked as you saw Simon smirk, he was milking it now. You glared at him still smirking as you fold your arms. “You can’t gate-keep her forever you know.”

Simon’s smile grew bigger as he looked at Millie than you. “You try to take her for me and see who’s gate keepin’ who.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling. He was right, she was the one clinging onto him without any hesitation. When you tried to get her out of her car seat she screamed for her daddy. You really pissed her off, you knew she was daddy’s girl but never has she refused you getting her out.

Millie looked over her shoulder and her head was still laying on his shoulder. Her brown eyes looking right through your soul. You could feel the anger on the toddler. God how much both Millie and Simon were alike, even in her toddler years. That look that she was baring into your soul was the same look that her father gave the lady that pierced her ears.

“Okay dad you can go on the other side so I can just snap one on,” The lady said pulling out the piecing gun. Your mom did it to you when you were younger, easier to do it when they won’t remember it. Raise your daughter to have a routine of having earrings. Millie looked up at you as you sat her on your lap. She was confused, first having a stranger holding her ear and mom letting the stranger holding her ear. The lady smiled up at you. “You ready?”

Simon looked over at her. “It won’t hurt her too bad yeah?” You swore he was more nervous than how Millie looking on your lap.

You smiled holding her closer. “She will cry Simon but it shouldn’t hurt too much. It will feel like a pinch.”

Oh how wrong you were, once the piercing went in she screamed. Simon snapped his head up to the lady before giving her a death stare, as he moved over to the side to see her ear red. Millie kicked and tried to pull you off of her. You watched as Simon’s hands clenched into fists. “One more! I know baby.” The lady said walking over to the other side cautiously.

You saw Simon watch carefully as the lady lined up the piercing. You swore you saw fire in his eyes but also pain. You haven’t seen Simon express that emotion in years, it made your heart hurt to see him in pain as well. Millie started to lift herself as she reached for Simon. Simon tapped his foot waiting for the session to just end.

You tried to grab her hand to soothe her but instead she batted away. She tried to reach for Simon once again as you held her still. You looked over to see tears in his eyes, which made your heart drop. “Simon,” You soothed. “She is okay.”

Simon snapped his head to you. “She doesn’ look okay to me.” You frowned as he looked back to Millie as you petting her head until the lady got her gun in place of her earlobe.

After the last snap, Millie screamed again, having her arms raised to Simon. It was like flash of lightning when Simon was right in front of you. Simon grabbed her immediately, bounced her up and down. Shushing her, soothing her, rubbing her back.

Simon left the store immediately, leaving you in the dust. You sighed as you handed the money to the lady. “Don’t worry all husbands do that with their babies. The good ones at that.” The lady whispered to you. “Some of them actually shed tears.”

You smiled and thanked her, however she was wrong about him not shedding a tear. You knew why he stormed out with her, you saw the single tear leaving his eye when he snatched her.

You paid the lady and thanked her as you watched Simon hold Millie closer. Both of them gave you the silent treatment, like you did the piercing. You rolled your eyes as you tried to hold Millie but she refused you as she clanged onto Simon all the way to the car.

After getting out of the car he went straight to her room as he rocked her. Holding her. Soothing her. You followed him into the doorway, as you listened to him mumble sweet things to her. It wasn’t until then he started to speak to you.

“I’m not mad at ya,” He said sighing. “Didn’ like my babygirl cryin’ like that.” His voice lowered even more as he rubbed her back on soothing motions. Holding her even closer than he already had her before.

You nodded. “I know you don’t. I am sorry you felt that way. My heart hurt too, I didn’t expect her to scream cry,” You fell silent as you watched Millie turn to cuddle more close to his neck. Gripping his shirt. You chuckled having Simon start to smile looking at you. “I think you scared the lady as well.”

Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Good she hurt Mills, should have just stared at her the whole time to have her stop.”

You chuckled coming in more, Millie watched as you walked up to her and Simon. “Then she would only have one earring.”

Simon followed with his eyes as you stood in front of him. His eyes softening as he chuckled. “That’s the new thing isn’t it?”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes as you giggled. “I’m sorry baby,” You whispered kneeling down, rubbing the top of her ear. “Think you will be the only one to have pierced ears if we get you a sibling.”

She cooed as you leaned up to kiss her forehead. She laid back into his chest. It was quiet for a moment before you stood up. “Damn right.” Simon mumbled, smirking down at you.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost #simon ghost x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley mw2

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ohtobeleah · 11 months

Text

Roses // BF x JS x Reader

Summary: Robert Floyd can’t seem to find it in himself to hurt you the way you crave, the way you truly desire. Confiding in his more experienced, more outgoing & confidence wingman is something he’s always done. This time when Bob asks Jake Hangman Seresin for advice, he gets a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.

Warning: Bob Floyd x F!reader Jake Seresin x F!reader. Smut. MMF Threesome. Cuckold Bob? Power imbalance. Male receiving oral. Female receiving oral.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Note: Happy Saturday Folks, please enjoy this porn without plot one shot of two of our favourite flyboys:

"Fuck—“ The delightlful sound of Bob’s near pronographic moans were something you would never get tired of hearing. The way his hands fell softly onto your hips to help you ride his throbbing length was a touch as gentle as an angels. Bob always felt good, oh so good—He was truly blessed. From the sting that always made your heart stop whenever he’d first slip in, to the way his tip would nuzzle against your sponge like cervix, to the way his shaft would throb against your velvet walls with every pleasure filled thrust.

“Baby—“ The term of endearment escaped your mouth with a sigh as you dragged one of his hands up your body, softly wrapping one of Bob's slightly calloused hand around your own neck and squeezing it for him. Bob couldn't contain the whimper he let out as you eyes hooded at the sight as his mouth remained open, a drawn out groan of absolute pleasure rumbled from deep inside his chest.

“Please, make me cum baby please.” You begged as you threw your head back and whimpered to the heavens above. Your other hand dipped down to swirl around your sensitive bundle of nerves as you picked up the speed, the gentle slapping of Bob’s balls hitting the curve of your ass echoed through the bedroom the two of you shared more often than not. Robert Floyds humble abode was closer to the Hard Deck, his favorite watering hole and your place of employment.

The second you let go of Bob’s hand that you’d placed around your throat, Bob dropped it as fast as he could, he let it fall to the soft curve of your hip after stopping shortly to touch the hardened bud of your sensitive nipple. Bob’s baby blue eyes trained hard on your tits as you bounced and rolled your hips above him. A goddess amongst mere mortal men.

“Ahhh—Bob, baby m’cumming! Oh fuck m’cumming I’m cumming—ooohhh—“ Your nails, long and manicured scratched at Bob’s chest as you came hard around his length, leaving red raw claw marks in their wake as you clenched around Bob’s shaft. Your pussy throbbed as you saw stars and black dots behind your eyes. Your thighs trembled on either side of Bob as he thrust his cock deeper inside you, chasing his own high after making sure you were well looked after. Forever the gentleman was Lieutenant Robert Floyd.

“Shit—shit Y/n, baby quick, I'm gonna cum—“ Bob groaned as you rolled off from straddling your broad boyfriend's hips to laying on your back with a wicked giggle. You bit your bottom lip to help hold back to lustful and ever so sinful chuckle that threatened to escape from the inner part of your soul as Bob mounted your chest—one leg thrown over you as he pumped his cock right over in face. “Ahhhh—“ He sighed as he unloaded his hot spurts of cum over your fucked out face, watching it cover you from your forehead to your chin, your tongue did its best to chase whatever he gave you.

Bob didn’t stay on top of you for very long, even if you adored the feeling of the weight of his body on top of you. It was as if he was unsure if he was hurting you—that would be Bob’s biggest fear. He settled back down onto his back with a sigh as he watched you quickly sauntered over into the en-suite. The sound of the shower turning on quickly filled the silence that lingered after you disappeared from his sight.

“Can I join?” He mumbled as he got off the bed, padding towards the bathroom to see you washing your face under the warm stream of the shower head. Suds from your face wash worked to wash away the load Bob had just plastered your face with. It mixed in with the notes of mint and cooling cucumber.

“I think you can squeeze in.” You jokingly replied as Bob stepped under the stream of warm water, watching as you washed away the suds to reveal your freshly cleaned face. He wrapped his arms around you tight before he dipped his head to connect his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. Bob hummed against your supple lips when he felt your hands dip to his ass.

“You been working out?” Bob had recently started hitting the gym a little more frequently with Hangman and Rooster. He was a cardio guy, but in the past few weeks he'd managed to bulk up just a little. Put on a few pounds that made you insanely feral. Bob Flyod looked good a couple of pounds heavier.

“You know I have.” Bob smirked, he picked you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you against the cool tiled wall. “I’ve seen you watching from the treadmill.”

“S’good view.” You couldn't hold back the small giggled that escaped before you once again pressing your lips against his with need and want. Your tongues danced together memorising each other's mouths before Bob put you down.

“Let's get out of here—wanna taste of what dessert has to offer.”

“What does that mean?” You asked as you bit your bottom lip—Bob’s hand came down to caress your lower back as he led you back to the bed. Soaking wet. He watched you with lustful eyes as you sat down before you quickly spread your legs. With intent, Bob dropped to his knees beside the bed—his hands slowly spreading your thighs further apart. He squeezed at your supple skin, decorated nicely with stripes Bob loved to delicately and ever so gently litter with kisses.

He’s never left a mark.

“Bob—“ You breathed out heavily as Bob licked a gentle strip up your fucked out pussy, so sweet and slick. His eyes never left yours as he lapped away at the sensitive bundle of nerves you loved to play with so much. Your clit was your favourite body part. Its only purpose in your life was to bring you pleasure and pleasure you craved. “Bob—“

“You okay?” Bob stopped momentarily to ask, watching as you dropped from your elbows to your back. In the middle of pure ecstasy your hands shot up to grip the strands of light brown hair that had grown out exponentially since you’d first started dating.

“Yes yes! Just keep going—feels so fucking good.” You sighed as you rolled your hips. Feeling Bob's tongue against you yet again making you moan softly. “Don’t stop, Fuckk-“ Bob did as he was told, lapping away at your soaked pussy like he was starved, high of the taste of his girlfriend. Watching as you squirmed and moved around from each flick of his tongue. Part of you wished he’d stop you— part of you wished he’d make you stay still.

But you knew better than to wish—Bob would never be as dominant as you wanted him to be. It just wasn’t in his inherent nature. It went against everything that made Bob, Bob. He was a gentle and kind soul to the very core—a wallflower.

Settling into Bob’s side a little later on, you were now dressed and exhausted, you sighed deeply when your head fell against Bob’s exposed chest—listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you baby.” Bob kisses the top of your head.

“I love you more.” You cooed quietly as your eyes felt heavy. Tired from a massive shift at the Hard Deck that ended the sexcapades that had just wrapped with Robert Floyd. “Hey Hon?”

“Yeah?” Bob's voice was low in his chest as he absentmindedly played with your hair. His nimble fingers felt oh so amazing against your scalp. Calming, soothing and above all relaxing.

“How come you’re so........gentle with me?”

“That suddenly a bad thing?” Bob chuckled as he ran his fingers down your arm to trace your forearm. “I just—I couldn’t imagine being the reason behind your pain you know?” It made you feel genuinely safe and cared for, but deep down something was telling you to have this conversation now. If you didn’t now, you might not ever work up the courage to again.

“What if I told you I wanted you to hurt me?”

“What do you mean?” Bob yawned, of course he was listening, but Bob was tired himself. “You want me to hurt you?”

“Well—you see, you remember how I tried to get you to choke me? But as soon as I moved my hand you let go? Well I want you to do that, harder—and maybe on your own accord.” Bob could physically feel the heat of your cheek on his chest and you could most definitely hear his heart racing.

“You want me to ch—choke you?” There was clear hesitancy laced in Bob's questioning as his hand stilled from the gentle rhythm he had fallen into tracing unidentifiable objects into your forearm.

“And like, maybe pull my hair, slap me around a little bit, like when I’m moving around when you eat me out maybe, stop me? Pin me down and just I don’t know Bob—use me?” You could tell maybe this was all a little too much for Bob, he was such a gentle soul with the biggest of hearts and the kindest of eyes. It wasn’t in his nature to want to be dominant.

“I uh—“ Bob tried to formulate a sentence to respond with, he wanted to make you happy and if this was what would make you happy he wanted to do anything you desired of him. But he couldn’t find the words. “I—“

“You know what?” You cooed as you looked up through your lashes to where your Boyfriend's head was resting against your pillows. “Don’t even worry hon—“ You placed a butterfly-like kiss against Bob's clean shaven cheek with a small smile that made his heart ache. “Forget I ever said something—I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Bob replied with a low tone, his voice had gotten deeper as the night progressed. “Are you sure? maybe I could uh—try?”

“It’s totally fine—everything’s perfect just the way it is.” Again you tried not to make this bigger than it really was. Bob was a great guy. He was a great partner and an even better best friend. Not wanting to make the man you loved so much, that did so much for you, uncomfortable, you dismissed the subject that wasn’t all that important anyway. Why fix something that wasn’t broken? “It’s not who you are.”

Bob’s mind was plagued with the reality of your words after you’d fallen asleep in his arms in his warm and loving embrace that night. Your gentle snores filled the room as his mind wandered, ran rampant with thoughts. Maybe it wasn't who he was—

But Robert Floyd definitely knew someone that was.

***~***~***~***~***~

Bob woke up early the next morning, knowing it was his only chance to catch Jake without a chance of being interrupted. The pair had been an unlikely duo to rent a home in North Island. If you had first asked Bob what his opinion on Jake Seresin had been when they first met a few years ago he wouldn’t have had a good word to say about the overly confident aviator. Jake’s egomaniacal personality was something that seemed to curve out over the years—soon enough Jake was just Jake to the bunch of Daggers who’d settled permanently in North Island.

And before Bob really even knew what happened he’d signed a lease with Hangman and was a pretty big fan of his Texan take on Taco Tuesday.

“Mornin.” Bob grumbled as he sauntered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Bob was most definitely not a morning person, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. If he didn’t need to be up for work then Bob wasn’t getting up for nobody. Jake however, he had always been an early bird gets the worm kind of guy.

“Jesus!” Jake gasped as he choked on his toast, not exactly expecting the pair of you up for at least another four hours minimum. “The fuck are you doing up so early? Are you sick or something?”

“I needed a coffee.” Bob grumbled, he grabbed at the coffee cup with your face on it that said ‘Bob's Coffee Cup’ on it. A birthday present you thought was incredibly funny. “And some advice—but you can’t laugh at me Jake, I swear or else I’m never talking to you again.”

“What’s up?” Jake shut his laptop begrudgingly, already missing the home interior design inspo board on Pinterest. He and Bob were in the process of making their house a humble abode. And by him and Bob Jake meant himself. He was in the middle of redoing the older than some, sturdier than most home.

“Okay so Y/n said something last night and I don’t know what to do about it.” Bob knew he’d regret this the second the words were flying out of his mouth.

“What did she say?” Jake's face was puzzled, he hadn’t seen Bob so frazzled in a while. “Robert? what did she say?”

“She wants me to be uh—rougher? With her, and I can’t wrap my head around that concept for a second to even think about how I’d do that.” Jake frowned as he watched Bob wiz around the kitchen, collecting the necessary things for his coffee and cereal.

“I’m assuming you mean in bed because—?” Jake tried to make the situation he found himself in a little more light hearted. He was fine, really, but he could tell just by the rose colour creeping itself across Bob's neck that he was almost embarrassed.

“Yes Jake— of course she meant in bed what else would she mean?” Bob caught himself before Jake could legitimately answer that question. He saw the Cheshire- like grin creep across Jake's face before he went to speak. Bob shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Actually, don't answer that.” He sighed as he sipped his coffee, warm, milky and caffeinated just how he liked it as he walked around to sit next to Jake who sat on the other side of the kitchen bench.

“So what’s the big deal? Slap her around a bit? She wants you, right? So what's stopping you?” Jake did see the big deal in all of this. He’d been with plenty of women who liked their intimacy a little of the rougher side. It wasn't that deep, not everything had to be some coded deeper meaning bullshit. Sex could be just that–sex. Kinks could be just that, kinks.

“I physically can’t do that.” Bob groaned at himself as he doubled over and placed his forehead against the kitchen countertop. “Like she tried to get me to choke her last night and I couldn’t, I bitched out and moved my hand.” Jake stifled a laugh as he sat back and tapped his friend on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort the worrying WSO.

“Bob—I can see you’re already over thinking this, look, being rough between the sheets doesn’t mean you respect or love her any less?”

“I don’t wanna hurt her though? I can’t fathom being the reason behind her pain.” Jake rolled his eyes at the overbearing sensitivity of his good friend and housemate.

“Jesus Bob it’s not that deep, you could throw her through your bedroom wall and that girl would beg for more—it’s Y/n we’re talking about right?” You and Jake Seresin had a pretty good relationship. He was actually the one who introduced you to Bob. He knew Bob had been reluctant to put his best foot forward when it came to talking to pretty girls who made killer cocktails, but when Jake saw the way you smiled at Bob like he hung all the stars in the night sky just for you—he knew he had to get his wingman moves out.

“Yeah but like what if I take it too far.” Bob countered. “What if she actually gets hurt? Doesn’t like what I’m doing?” Bob’s mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. This wasn't his style, the rough natured touch that is–but the worrying was. That was all Bob.

“That’s what safe words and actions are for—” Jake replied with a cheeky grin, this could be his chance, the moment he’d been waiting for. “Look, do you need me to show you?” Jake smirked as Bob sat up—shooting his housemate a concerned look. “Because I could show you a thing or two.” Jake's biggest regret in recent months had been not getting to see what more you had to offer under your work uniform before he ever so kindly offered to help Bob secure the love of his life.

“Are you saying you wanna have sex with my girlfriend!!?” Bob could barely believe he even had to ask, but he wasn't all that shocked if he were to be completely honest. This was Hangman he was talking to and Jake didn't really have a hell of a lot of hard boundaries he wouldn't cross just for the plot.

“For educational purposes yeah—“ Jake teased, he took another bite of his toast as he did so. “Look I don’t really care? Watch some rough porn or something for tips, but you brought this shit to me.”

“Gosh, you really are a dick of a friend aren't you.” Bob scoffed as he pushed himself off the stool he’d been perched on. “Don't need to play the part when you are the part.” Bob couldn't help but to roll his eyes as he sipped his coffee. It was still far too early in the morning for him.

“The fuck does that mean?” Jake asked with a frown evident on his face. He’d come a long way since he first came back to TopGun a few years ago. He had friends, roots even. He wasn't the same guy. “All I did was offer to help you out, Floyd.”

“You just asked to fuck my girlfriend Jake, how much more of a douchebag can you be!”

“I said for ‘educational purposes’!” Jake wasn't going to sit here and be reprimanded by Bob just for offering his sexual services. “Look pal–I’m not the one who’s scared to fucking choke her.” Jake laughed as he got off the stool. “Honestly Bob—just do what you want at this point, slap the girl, don’t slap the girl, either way Y/n’s still gonna love you. Maybe try doing something she wants you to do and see where things go? You can only fuck up so many times.” A silence fell over the two aviators as they stood in their shared kitchen. “But either way I couldnt give more of a fuck about your sex life and the goings on or not goings on that are inevitable associated.”

“Good pep talk Hangman.” Bob hissed. He knew bringing this up to Jake was going to be a bad idea. He should have listened to his gut instinct.

“Anytime.” Jake grinned as he started walking away. Laptop in hand. He had better things to be doing on his weekend off than consoling a slightly self conscious, meek, weapons system officer.

But Bob knew that he couldn’t do this with Jake's help. He didn’t know how to give you more of what you needed and as a result he swallowed his pride and took a deep breath in.

“Wait! Jake—“ Bob held the bridge of his nose as if he was holding back a nosebleed, exhaling deeply, that’s how much he hated the words that were about to leave his mouth. “Okay, okay, for educational purposes only alright? So help me god if you cross the line and hurt her in any way I’ll—“

“Relax Robert.” Jake smirked as he walked closer to where his friend stood with slumped and deflated shoulders before he placed a reassuring hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

“What, when you’re balls deep in my girlfriend? Yeah I’m sure I’ll be throwing thanks your way.”

”I meant when you actually feel comfortable giving her what she wants, but yeah you can do that too if you like.” Jake laughed as Bob whacked his chest. “Ow—!”

“That’s for being a smartass.” Bob decided on making breakfast before he went back to bed, avocado toast in hand he sauntered down the hall. Opening and closing his bedroom door quietly so as to not disturb you.

“Bob?” You mumbled at the sound of Bob bear feet padding along the carpet softly.

“Mornin’ baby—Sorry, did I wake you?” Bob asked as he leaned over your side of his bed to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“No no, I woke up a little while ago, it was kinda weird not having you next to me.” You admitted, most of the time if not all the time, you were the one waking Bob up.

“I made you breakfast.” Bob said as he sat on his side of the bed, crossing his legs before stealing a bite of the warm toast coated with smashed avocado before handing it over.

“Aww thanks you didn’t have to do that—“ You cooed as you sat up against the headboard. “Really baby, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to—“ Bob smiled. “Anyway, so you remember that conversation we had last night?” Bob sat picking at the small hairs on his chin. A nervous twitch he had that made your heart melt. He didn’t grow his facial hair out all too often, but that five o’clock shadow did something to you.

“Yeah, what about it?” It came out more of a mumble than anything else

“I talked to Jake—“ Immediately you felt your core temperature rise at the mere thought of Jaker seresin, Bob's friend and colleague, Bob's housemate, knowing anything about your sex life let alone your personal sexual fantasies.

“Bob!” You slapped at his chest, the brunt of your open palmed slap was softened by the cotton of his shirt. “How could you?”

“He’s one of my best friends! Y/n, you know I tell him everything.” Bob tried to defend his actions, you knew going into this that the Daggers were a close knit group of souls, all trauma bonded in more ways than one.

“Yeah but I thought maybe our sex life was off limits oh my gosh—“ But this, this was just a whole new level of broken boundaries.

“It usually is! I promise, I just—I needed advice about what you said you wanted me to do and Jakes always been the first person I go to for anything so it was only natural.” You never knew of a time where Bob and Jake weren’t close. You had been told of a time before you when the two couldn't have been more different from one another. But their dynamic had always reminded you of a big brother little brother-esk friendship.

“There’s absolutely nothing natural about Jake knowing I want you to choke me.” You scoffed. “This is why you made me breakfast, wasn't it?”

“If you think that’s not natural I think you’re gonna hate what I have to say next—“ Bob tried his best to laugh it off, but he knew deep down you weren't gonna go for it. Hell he hadnt gone for it at first.. “Jake said he—he said he’s um show me? How to uh—be rougher with you.”

“You’re kidding, Bob, What does that even mean!?”

“He’s gonna have sex with you and basically I’ll watch and take notes I guess.” You had to still be dreaming, this wasn’t actually a conversation you were having with your boyfriend right now was it? He didn't just say what he did. There was no possible way.

“Bob! NO! Oh my gosh no I’m not having sex with your best friend are you insane!?” You gasped as your eyebrows raised to new highs unseen on your forehead in shock. “You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re crazy.” You shook your head before getting out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Bob asked as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. “Baby?”

“Away from you psycho, trying to get me to fuck Jake? As if that was even a thing that came up in a serious conversation!? You two are seriously two of the most codependent people I’ve ever—“ As you opened the bedroom door in your fit of anger, shaking your head in disbelief Jake was there to stop you. He was there to stop you from going any further than a foot or so out into the hallway.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Jake's hand wrapped itself tightly around your throat. The pressure was so intense the gasp you made, made Bob stand from the bed. He was immediately worried, maybe this was a bad idea after all. “We’ve nearly seen death together sweetheart, that brings people together in ways you couldn't begin to imagine.”

“Jake–” You tried to choke out, but the way Jake gripped your throat and stepped you back into Bob's bedroom with such ease had you seeing stars.

“Did you just say harder?” He smirked as he watched your eyes roll, he applied more pressure as he walked you back, slowly and with intention behind every step. “You’re too easy Y/n.” Jake pushed you back till you were landing on the mattress you shared with Bob with a gasp and a cough. “Like an open fucking book.”

“What the hell is going on!?” You hissed as you looked between the friends who you saw most nights hanging around the pool table and being the life of any party. “Bob, this is crazy.”

“You act like you don’t want him to learn?” Jake smirked, he was already enjoying this. “C’mon Y/n, let the guy learn from the best—“ His sweats already felt constricted at the mere thought of getting to touch you the way he’d always fantasised about.

“Are you implying you’re the best?” You paused as you sized Jake up. “That’s some pretentious shit if I’ve ever heard some.” Jake looked at Bob as if to ask for permission. Bob nodded slightly, he wanted to see where Jake was going with this. How far he’d take it. He watched with lustful eye as Jake grabbed your hair and pulled you roughly towards him. Having Harlow Kneel on the edge of the bed. ”Ow—!”

“Look—this is what’s gonna happen okay? Because unlike you two lazy asses I actually have plans today, so I’m gonna fuck you—give you exactly what you want and Bob’s gonna show you what he took from this little—educational training session after. Okay?” Jakes dominating demeanour had you dizzy. This couldn’t be fucking happening. scenarios like this only ever happened in fanfiction— Specifically those cliche fanfictions about the Naval Aviators you knew taking turns sharing the reader. Had you dived too deep one night trying to prove how many girls day dreamed about your boyfriend, Bob? Yes.

“O—okay.” You managed to whimper out, you couldn't have been more turned on right now even if you wanted to be.Regardless of how morally wrong and twisted this whole thing was, you wanted to be used and abused so bad. If this was the only way Bob was going to be able to satisfy your needs? Your wants? So be it.

“Good—“ Jake grinned as he let your hair go. “Now, if things get too rough, or you don’t like something I do? Say Roses. It’s the safe word.”

“Why Roses?” You asked meekly as your knees buckled under the heat.

“Because Bob’s as delicate as a rose bud that’s why we’re doing this.” Jake teased. As if having to watch Jake fuck you wasn’t bad enough. “Now strip.” His tone changed as Bob sat down on a chair against the wall. This felt a little weird—but he would do anything to please you. To give you everything you ever desired and then some.

Bob watched with hawk eyes as you stripped everything off your body. He watched as your hands pushed your pyjama shorts down your legs, he watched you pull Bob’s shirt up over your head—leaving you naked on the bed before him. Bob wanted to run his hands softly over your curves, wanted to tell you how much he adored you, he wanted to show you how much he loved you. But as he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to his girlfriend? Jake already had his hands on your ass—pulling you closer.

“See the thing is Bob, don’t think that by being rough you love Y/n here any less.” Jake explained. “Y/n is a beautiful, smart, kind and compassionate girl don’t you agree?” He turned to Bob who looked as if he was sweating after running a couple of miles, his face was flushed a crimson red.

“Ye—yeah, she’s amazing.”

“She’s also a whore.” Jake snapped, slapping his hand harshly against your ass, making you squeal from the initial sting but soon you felt the warm print forming. “I mean look at her—she’s letting your best friend touch her? I mean it’s for educational purposes of course but still—such a little whore, and do you know what whore do Bob.”

“N—no?” He couldn't say yes.

“They suck dick when they’re told to, don’t they Y/n.” Jake asked as he pulled his shorts down, pulling his cock from his boxer briefs. Bob watched as Jake pumped himself a few times before pushing your head down. “Don’t they?” He asked again, watching as your mouth moved dangerously close to his tip.

“They do.” You looked at Bob for permission and he blinked slowly as he nodded, watching as you took Jake's first few inches in your mouth as you kept eye contact with Bob. Your Boyfriend who was now watching you suck another guy off.

“Shit—“ Bob palmed himself through his shorts. This was insanity, why was he so turned on? He shouldn't have been–but the sight of you taking Jake's length in your mouth sent him to the moon and back.

“Fuck—“ Jake groaned as you hollowed your cheeks. This was the hottest thing you’d ever done, the most scandalous thing you’d ever been a part of. Moaning around Jake's cock as you bobbed your head— taking more of Jake down your throat like it was your very mission in life to get him off to new heights.

“See Bob—look how she’s not only sucking my cock–” Jake sighed as you took more and more of him. “But look at the way she’s sticking her ass up for me, for us.” His hand slapping against your cheek—causing you to groan around his cock. Pulling away, leaving the trails of spit that connected your lips to the tip of his cock. “It’s pathetic really—you can see how much she desperately wants to be used in her eyes.”

“You think you could use me Bob?” You asked softly. Jake pulled you down to the floor by your hair. “Fuck—!” Jake made you crawl on your hands and knees towards where Bob sat.

“Yeah Robert, do you think you could make her do this?” Bob Watched as Jake pulled you up to just your knees before he worked to shoving his cock down your throat once more—your nose kissed the dark manscaped pubic hair. Jake kept you there as he listened to you gag before pulling you away. “Fuckk—So fucking good Y/n, huh?” Leaning down to slap your ass cheek harshly. Watching as you grinned and giggled. Biting your bottom lip as if to say you loved it.

“I dunno—can I try?” Bob pulled his shorts down as he stood, watching as you sat back on your heels to watch like a good girl. His boxer briefs came next— revealing Bobs hard and stiff as a rock cock that slapped up against his toned lower abdomen.

“Be my guest.” Jake said as he stood back and sat on the edge of the bed. Bob was gentle as he gripped your hair in his hand. “Harder Bob, it isn't rocket science.” Bob’s eyes locked onto yours and saw you begging him for more. Something inside him stung as he looked at you— he wanted to lean down and kiss you. But he knew what you wanted more. So he gripped your hair as tight as he could.

“Ahhhh—“ You hissed out, Bob panicked before he let go, this wasn't him, he couldn't do this.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby—“ It was an apology that wasn't needed, you were truly having the time of your life right now.

“Bob! No!” Jake groaned as he stood, sighing as he grabbed your hair and made you stand. Throwing you on the bed. Harshly.

“Jake! You're hurting her!” Bob yelled.

“Has she or has she not said the safe word?” Jake pointed out as he turned with a growl and a harsh glare Bob's way.

“That doesn’t matter Jake—“

“It does matter! There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure Bob and this little slut right here.” Jake walked over to you on the bed before he spread your legs as you laid still on your back. “Loves pain—tell him.”

“He’s right baby—I’m fine.” You moaned out at Jake's touch. “I’d say if I wasn’t—please just use me.” You begged your boyfriend with enough conviction that for a moment Bob actually believed you.

“Look at her begging Bob, how pathetic.” Jake leaned over you, his knees were now on the bed between your legs. “Right Y/n? Pathetic aren’t you?” Jake groaned as he spat in your face—shoving three of his fingers into your mouth as he slapped his tip against your throbbing pussy. So slick from the arousal that had pooled. A moaning mess as you looked at Bob.

“Watch and learn pretty boy, if I’m such a douche bag, I better live up to the title, huh?” Jake smirked as he shoved himself deep inside you, Bob watched your eyes roll back into your head as you squealed around Jake's fingers. “Fuckk—so tight!”

“Jake—“

“Get over here.” Jake groaned, thrusting himself in and out in and out of your slick and slippery pussy. “Now Bob!!” Bob moved closer as Jake removed his hand from your mouth and slapped your cheek.

“Ahhh fuck! Jake! Yes—!!” You screamed, sending a feeling through Bob he couldn’t explain. He’d never been jealous before, certainly not of Jake. But hearing his girlfriend scream out Jake's name flicked a switch inside him that would never flip back.

“Choke her.” Jake ordered, still fucking deep into your fucked out pussy— his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust he gave you.

“No,” Bob hissed, gritting his teeth. He had to restrain himself from giving into this.

“Bob! I said fucking choke her!!”

“Bob—baby please—“

“Flip her, need her on her knees for a second.” Bob ordered, Jake stopped his thrust and looked at Bob for a second and noticed a change in him. Something had been triggered. He’d done exactly what he’d set out to do.

Educate and teach.

Jake pulled out—pumping himself as you flipped over, ass in the air and ready to be pounded yet again. Jake didn’t waste any time before he slammed right back into your dripping pussy before he stuck his thumb into his mouth. Licking and sucking before softly pressing it against her puckering hole. That was a new sensation you hadnt yet dared explore. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.

“Yess! Jake! Jake please oh my god!!” You screamed as Bob slapped his cock against your face. Holy shit this was really happening.

“You want my cock baby?” Bob asked with a low rumble in his voice you didn't quiet recognised

“So bad Bob—please give me your cock, wanna taste it baby.” You begged before Bob took your head in his hands and placed his cock between your open lips—watching it disappear, more and more–slowly disappearing as you took him down your throat. Eyes watering.

“Now use her Bob, she’s your fuck toy—make her choke.” Jake groaned as he slapped against your ass yet again. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/n.”

Bob thrusted his hips back and forth into your spit dripping mouth, using your mouth as his personal toy. Listening to you gag and groan. He’d never heard these noises coming from you before. He always let you do whatever you wanted. Not one to take charge.

“Fuckk—okay Jake.” Bob gritted his teeth. “Jake get out.”

“What!?”

“Consider class over, get the fuck out!” Bob hissed. Watching as Jake smirked and pulled out. Slapping your pussy harshly making you squeal around Bob’s cock. You tried pulling away but Bob kept you still. Just like you always wanted him to.

“My work here is done I guess, guess I’ll go jerk off somewhere else then.” He chuckled, collecting his pants before leaving the room.

“Now—what am I gonna do with you?” Bob asked, pulling you off his cock and flipping you onto your back. “You want me to be rough with you? Use you? Fine—have it your way baby.” Bob slammed himself inside you, he watched as you smiled, biting your bottom lip. Bob couldn’t help but lean over you, wrap his hand tightly around your neck as he thrusted his hips against yours. He sent his hard throbbing cock deeper into you with each movement.

Bob dipped his head as he tightened his grip, biting at your nipple harshly making you wince. You couldn’t breathe—it was everything you'd ever dreamed about and more, you loved it, every second of it.

“You are a little slut aren’t you?” Bob teased. “Why have I been treating you like a—well” Bob smiled. “Like a rose?” Removing his hand so you could answer.

“Im gonna fucking cum!” You cried out, reaching between the two of you to rub at your throbbing clit. “Bob!! Harder!!” You begged, feeling Bob slam himself inside you a little faster, a little harder. “YYEESS—!”

“Oh Y/n baby I’m gonna fucking cum!!” Bob groaned, feeling you clench and pulse around his shaft. Watching as you trembled, your high washed over you as intensely as ever. It was a sight Bob fell in love with—it was like no other orgasm he’d watched you have.

“Baby—baby, Y/n oh fuck yes! Yes—!” Bob moaned aloud as he felt his balls tighten, shaft twitching as he unloaded deep inside you. Filling you with his cum. Holding you close as your nails left red raw scratches down his slightly muscular back. Bob Fell on top of you with deep heavy pants. He kissed your neck, leaving purple marks in his wake—the first of many marks Bob Floyd would leave on you.

“Bob—did I really just fuck your best friend?” You asked in your daze.

“Yeah—but it’s okay. You know why?” Bob teased as he pushed himself onto his knees above his girl.

“Why?”

“Because now I get to punish you for being such a fucking whore.” Bob hissed as he manhandled your legs, pressing them up to your head. Spitting on your pussy that dripped with his cum. His fingers danced around your entrance before slipping inside—curling up against your velvet walls.

“Oohhh—Bob!” It was a sound Bob could never get tired of hearing. Your pleasure, your desire.

Bob pulled out to slap his hand against your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching as you tried to run as he held you still. Just like you wanted him to. Needed him to. Rubbing his thumb around your throbbing clit using his own load to do so with ease.

“Now remember baby—“ Bob smirked as he leaned down to kiss your clit, feeling you shutter from his touch. Pride rose within him because he could do this and still adore you, love you and respect you.

“Just say Roses.”

***~***~***~***~***~

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