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wildernessuntothemselves · 8 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 1

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.

Not proofread.

"Can I touch your cock?"

"What?" He chokes on his drink, some of it even coming out of his nose, and you pull a disgusted face. Really? Is this the guy you like? You need higher standards.

Still, you like him, drink squirting and all. You shrug, looking down at your own drink and fiddling with it nervously. "Just wanna know what a cock feels like. It’s no big deal." You bluff, hiding behind your inexperience that he knows about all too well.

Beomgyu is quiet for a while, and you start manifesting for the couch you’re sitting on to devour you whole. But finally he speaks up.

"Okay.” He says, and your head snaps up to look at him in disbelief. “If I can touch your pussy too."

You sneer at him as if you hadn’t literally asked him the same thing. "What? No. Pervert!"

"But you just--"

"Forget it." Truth is you were self-conscious about what he’d think if he saw your body. You didn't look like those onlyfans girls you’ve caught him watching many times. What if he finds your pussy weird-looking? God, you would never live that down.

"No, wait, okay, okay." He quickly backtracks, dropping his demand. His eagerness would be laughable if you weren’t just as eager yourself. “You can touch me.”

“Woah, what are you doing?” You cover your eyes with your hands when you see him pull down on his pants.

“Taking my cock out? You know, so you can touch me?”

“Not so fast, idiot. Let’s take it slow.”

He gives you a dumb look. “Slow how? Like kissing?”

Your cheeks flush at the thought, having imagined exactly that too many times, just Beomgyu pulling you into a heated kiss and maybe confessing his undying love for you, and how he’s only been acting so clueless and stupid to hide his true feelings for you…

No, you definitely should not be kissing.

“Forget it. Pull down your pants.” You tell him and he happily obliges, his cock springing out of his pants and smacking against his hoodie, leaving a tiny wet stain on it.

“Well, don’t just stare at it.” He whines when you take too long to make a move, grabbing your hand and moving it to wrap around his cock, moaning out at his own movements.

“Wow, it’s so soft.” You marvel as he moves your hand up and down his shaft, his skin gliding smoothly under your palm.

"Mmm hmmm." He hums and you look up to see him staring straight at you.

"Stop staring at me, you freak." You blush, feeling scrutinized. This was already so nerve-racking for you, you didn’t need him watching you like that.

“Come on, jerk me off properly. I’m doing all the work here.” He whines, pressing down on your hand to make you grab him tighter.

You roll your eyes. He’s such a brat. “Fine.” You smack his hand off and hold him firmly in your grip, trying to imitate the movements of your favorite internet dom and how she gets her sub to go crazy for her. And Beomgyu would be such a cute sub, and he’d make such pretty noises that you definitely didn’t spend your nights fantasizing about with your hand down your pants.

But he’s exceeding even your filthiest fantasies with the moans he’s letting out. He’s so loud and whiny, it’s going straight to your pussy and drenching your underwear.

In an effort to still come out the one in control, you tease him. “How are you so hard already?”

But it’s not effective on Beomgyu. Not when he never had any sense of shame to begin with. “Of course, I’m hard. You’re jerking me off. I’ve been dreaming about this since I was thirteen.”

“You have?” Your pace falters. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? Sure, it’s not the most romantic setting but you’ll take it.

“Of course. You know I’ve been trying to get any kind of action for years. Thank you so much. You’re the best.” He babbles, throwing his head back and thrusting up in your hand. You’re glad he did that so he wouldn’t see the absolutely heartbroken look on your face. You’re so stupid. He just wanted someone to touch his crusty dick.

Okay, that’s a lie. He actually has a really pretty dick which is so unfair. You wish it was veiny and gross and standing weird. Maybe then you would’ve gotten over your apparently hopeless crush on him.

"Fuck, you’re really touching my cock." He whimpers, staring at the way his cock is thrusting into your hand, too lost in the pleasure of it to notice your sour mood. “It feels so good.”

“I know. I can see the way you’ve gone all brain-dead just from a few strokes. I don’t even have to do much when you’re practically humping my hand. Are you that desperate?” You talk down to him, needing to release your bitterness somehow, but it only spurs Beomgyu on further.

He nods, jaw hanging open and a little drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as he stares at you, heavy-lidded. “God, you’re so dirty and mean. I didn’t even know I’m into that.” He groans.

No, what he’s into is cute, feminine girls dressed in skimpy little sundresses whimpering and crying as they get railed by big cocks. It’s why you’ve tried dressing all girly before he pointed out the change in your style and made fun of you for it. You know he didn’t mean it maliciously. It’s just what best friends do, make fun of each other over the stupidest things. But it sure guaranteed you’d never dress like that again.

"Can I cum?"

"Oh, you’re asking permission?" You laugh, happy to at least be having an effect on the man you're in love with, even if it’s just because he’s a desperate perv. "Guess whenever I need to put you in line I should just put my hand down your pants."

"Yes, please."

You giggle. Well if you can’t have him, at least you’ll have this.

“You can cum, gyu.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you!” He moans, and you point his cock towards his hoodie so he’d cum all over it. Just a little petty revenge on him. Not that he even cares, if the dopey smile on his face is any indication.

“Thank you.”

“You’ve said that already, idiot.” You wipe your hand on his hoodie, soiling it further.

“I mean it.”He sits up from his slumped position and grabs your hand as you pull it away. “Let me make it up to you. Let me eat you out.”

You frown at him and yank your hand away. “You just wanna know what pussy tastes like.”

“So? It’s a win-win.” He scrambles to the ground and slots himself between your legs, resting his head on your thighs and peering up at you cutely. “Please.”

You feel one of his thumb swipe under the leg of your shorts and you kick him away. “No!”

But he grabs your leg and whines. “Why?”

“I’m saving it for someone I love.” You admit shyly and he has the audacity to retort, “You know I love you.”

“I know.” You sigh, “But not that way… right?”

“Right.” He admits, finally letting you go and you just want to crawl into yourself and cease to exist. It all hurts too bad. You don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself when he clearly will never feel the same way about you. You really should forget all about this. It’s a mistake. A moment of weakness. That’s all it is.

_______________________________

But you can’t hold on to your convictions when he’s drooling over her like that.

“Seriously, Beomgyu, we’re in the middle of studying.”

He snaps his open mouth shut. “What? I’m not doing anything.” He says defensively and you roll your eyes, reaching up to swipe the drool off the corner of his lips.

“You’re staring at her as if you wanna take her right here inside the library.” You retort, hiding the pain from your voice well.

“So what if I do? She’s so sexy. I could just rip that tight, pink dress off her body. It’s barely even covering it. I can practically see her–oh!” His horny tirade cuts off into a gasp as you grab him through his pants.

“What are you doing?” He looks at you, panicked, but his hips still buck up into your hand. He’s such a horndog.

“Keeping you from jumping her in the middle of a public place.” You sneer, though in reality you just can’t bear him talking about her any longer.

“What about you jerking me off in the middle of a public place?” He counters back and you flush at being called out, moving to pull your hand away but he stops you, his large hand encompassing yours and pressing it against his bulge just like he did that first time.

“Did I mention that I’m totally fine with that?” He asks and you let out a sigh of relief. You can’t handle being rejected by him now. This is the only thing you have going for you–that you’re the only girl getting him off. If he doesn’t want it anymore then you’ve got nothing.

Luckily though, getting his dick touched is still very effective at getting him to stop obsessing over her and just focus on you.

“Go faster.” He prompts, but you don’t give him what he wants that easily. You gotta make him work for it so you don’t feel like you’re that easy.

“I will if you can answer this question.” You point to the next question in the quiz you were solving and he groans. “Who cares? Just need you.” He whines, knowing how weak you are for his puppy dog eyes, but unbeknownst to him, you’re too wounded by his flagrant drooling over another woman for this to work now.

“I care. So either you be good and answer or you don’t get to cum today.”

“You’re so cruel.” He whines, but casts his eyes to the paper, making an effort to figure out the answer, his brows furrowing and his lips pulling in a pout as his pretty brain works overtime to answer the question you wanted.

God, he’s so pretty. And you’re so screwed.

____________________________

“Look, baby, look what I got!” Beomgyu yells, shoving a piece of paper into your face enthusiastically. The writing is swimming in front of your eyes and you’re finding it so hard to focus when he is calling you that–baby–something he’d gotten into the habit of saying since you began messing with him.

Luckily, he’s kind enough to tell you what you’re looking at. “I got an A! I never thought I’d get an A in my life, and it’s all thanks to you!” He squeals, gathering you into his arms and smothering you with a passionate kiss that you’re too weak to resist, getting lost in his soft lips. His soft, sweet lips that you’ve been dreaming about for years–his pouty, full lips that you’ve had to hold yourself back from kissing every time he’d pout–his perfect lips that you promised yourself you’d never kiss because you knew it would be game over for you.

Dam it, Beomgyu!

You shove him away. “I said no kissing!” You bark and he cowers like a scolded dog. “But I did so well. Thought I deserved a reward, and you’re just so kissable.” He tries to get another kiss but you’re prepared for him now.

“Don’t say things like that.” You hiss way too sharply and he winces. “Why not?”

“I don’t like it.” You tell him and he frowns. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

He scoffs. “I know that.”

“We’re just fuck buddies.”

“Not even that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you don’t even let me fuck you. How can we be fuck buddies if you’re freaking out over me just kissing you? You’re treating me like a glorified dildo. Why can’t I touch you too?”

You can’t answer that truthfully or you’ll ruin everything, so you deflect. “If you don’t like it then we can stop. I don’t need this. I can easily find another guy to play with. One who wouldn’t whine about getting free handjobs.”

He gives you a betrayed look, but quickly collects himself. “Fine. You do that. I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” He huffs, storming off and leaving his graded paper behind. You grab it, your chest filling with a sense of pride you can’t keep at bay. You did this. You helped him get an A. And he was so happy about it too. He was so happy he kissed you. It was everything you wanted, which is exactly why you had to stop it.

Yes, it hurts now, but it would’ve hurt a million times more if you let yourself get carried away with it. It’s better to stop it now before it’s too late for you.

_____________________________

A/N: whoever has ideas for future scenes let me know, preferably non-smut scenes because at this point the story is entirely smut lmao

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #sub!idol #dom!reader #sub!beomgyu #sub!gyu #fem!reader

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sprytesukii · 2 months

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you know me (better than i know myself)

bakugou katsuki x reader

katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.

rating: mature, 18+, MDNI

wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)

tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T

an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)

read on ao3

the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.

“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”

the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.

“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.

he feels like he might die.

“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”

there it is. fuckin’ kaito.

katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.

part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.

of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.

bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.

he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.

and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.

it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.

perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.

katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.

too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.

but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.

that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.

but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.

he’s moving out.

he’ll be gone forever.

subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.

fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.

“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”

the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.

he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.

katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.

it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.

he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.

fuck.

with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.

“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”

the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.

“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“

katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.

he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.

he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.

he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.

it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.

by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.

kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.

it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.

he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.

nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.

he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.

a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.

(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.

he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.

EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><

katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.

EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you

he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)

the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.

a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.

the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.

it’s sustainable until it isn’t.

a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”

it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.

at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.

most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.

the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.

his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.

it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.

izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.

a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.

when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.

he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.

izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.

“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”

a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.

“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.

with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.

now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.

“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.

“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.

he never deserved any of it.

with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).

“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”

maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.

if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.

katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.

izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).

“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.

he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”

the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.

they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.

katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.

the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.

when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.

after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.

—

that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.

he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.

katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.

the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.

he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.

he posts an ad on craigslist that night.

the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.

“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”

the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.

the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.

katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.

something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.

“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.

the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.

“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”

denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”

he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.

the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.

in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.

katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?

ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested

ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td

ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry

ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back

ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while

ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever

katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.

he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.

katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.

you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.

you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.

you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.

it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.

“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.

you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.

“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.

pretty.

“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”

katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.

“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”

you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.

“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.

“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.

what the fuck?

in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”

your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.

the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.

a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.

katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.

suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.

it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.

“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.

your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”

the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.

“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”

your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.

the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.

you agree.

—

the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.

your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.

(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.

“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”

you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)

your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.

(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)

your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.

(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.

“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.

“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”

your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)

the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.

he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.

after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.

you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.

but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.

“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.

“fuck no.”

“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”

and that’s that.

you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.

it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.

occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.

it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.

“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.

“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.

“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”

what the fuck.

katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.

he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.

he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.

katsuki would not dream of stopping you.

—

it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.

(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.

you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.

“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)

katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.

you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.

when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.

katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.

your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.

“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.

the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.

it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.

it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.

he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.

it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.

the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.

fuck.

katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.

he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.

“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”

katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.

(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.

katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.

denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.

“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)

katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.

kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.

the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”

his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.

at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.

he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.

“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.

“i was in love with you.”

the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.

“wha- bakugou, what?”

“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”

kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.

“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”

katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”

kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.

“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.

“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”

katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”

kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”

after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?

he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.

“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.

“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”

katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.

“i think i’m in love with them.”

kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.

“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.

“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.

he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.

kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.

katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.

he’s home.

you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.

katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.

you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.

he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.

you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.

“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”

katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.

you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.

“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.

“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.

a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”

it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.

the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.

katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.

these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.

he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.

he thinks it’s his.

you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.

katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.

“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”

his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”

and that he does.

katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.

the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.

“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.

he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.

or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.

“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.

you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”

katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”

you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”

“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.

he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.

a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.

“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.

your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.

“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.

“nah.”

“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.

“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.

“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.

you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.

he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.

you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.

“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?

katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.

your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.

“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.

“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.

“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.

if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.

“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.

he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.

of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.

“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.

he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.

his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.

after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.

you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.

“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.

you know, though. you always do.

—

“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.

by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.

“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.

speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.

“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.

you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.

“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.

he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.

“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.

he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”

you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.

katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.

“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”

even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.

he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.

the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.

you already know.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x bakugou #bnha smut #bnha angst #hurt/comfort #[ baby daddy : katsuki ]#[ instant nut : n/sft ]#[ i <3 writing : my works ]

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pizzapizzadickz · 2 years

Text

#probably high rn #diary #high #personal #yknow. i like those little activity messages you can set on some things. like.#i just love being a drama queen in them. but i hate when ppl actually question me about jt #so ive been trying to hold back on it but by god do i wanna #i just wanna say shjt like #or like stupid depressing shit idk.#yknow i think im at the point of high where i domt move much qnd probably basically black out in a bit #haha. psych! thats what i wanted.#...when i get this high i just stop existing. i think rn this is like the closest to death i can get #suicidal ideation #like. or just oblivion ig. idk. thats why ive been wanting to experiment lately. just. i want to fade into nothingness #and really while weed is good i want it more. haha.#yknow. im not sure if im actully sad or if i just wanna be rn haha.#drugs tw #i wish i could bother someone abd have them not care about me.#i want them to listend to drug fueled suicidal ramblings of an idiot.#but. alas. thats dumb and like not a good relationship to have with ppl.#i jsut wanna trigger myelf over and over and over again.#i dont really wanna exist lately. im so tired. i just dont even wanna try.#haaah. i wish i could just die temporarily. like. i need a soft reset on my system lol.#...ill be better at somepoint but rn i wanna self destruct.#i think rly ill only get better when i decide to put in the effort. but its so little return for my hard work.#and im not sure its worth it anymore. so im just sayinh oh well.#argh. im gonna go read bc my thoughts make no sense to me either.

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q1ngqve · 3 months

Note

hi!! same anon here you dont have to take this as a request bc i just wanted to get this out of my chest yandere or at least obssesive averatio where both overstim the hell out of reader (lowkey mindbreak if you're comfy about that??) after reader rejects their advances NOT OUT OF HATE or anything but bc their insecurities got the best of them and either thought the two were just messing w them or they have abandonment issues (i do not have the second one whatever do you mean i am not projecting do not percieve me) no offense to these two but they look like the ppl to mess w your heart n leave you to rot

mb some predator/prey (they both hunt you down after you avoid them both and as ratio wisely said "what do you do with a cornered prey? hunt it to death" AUGHAHSGA) aphrodisiacs, drugging, etc. anyways after that you best bet you'll be too dumb to ever think of something as stupid as that, and sure, yes ratio hates idiots but well..... you will be the only exception given how cute you look all fucked out and broken on their bed with their cocks deep inside you <3

SKLDJALSDJAL HELP i feel awfully embarrassed w writing this lmao scuse me while i bleach my head.

i am very sorry this took so long </3 i wrote this as a fic at first but i lost motivation so now it’s just in the form of brain rot :(

oh no :( poor reader with insecurities from your past relationships thinking every man out there is a liar, especially the two that gave their hearts to you :( running away from them is a smart move because we don’t trust men in this household!

but you forget how annoying they can be when it comes to getting what they want, and they want you (´▽｀) so don’t be surprised when you find yourself feeling scared out of your mind walking home alone and feeling like you’re being watched! or when you find certain luxury items randomly appearing in your room! or the slightest hint of their cologne when you wake up every morning! because you asked for this by running away 😵‍💫

this was supposed to be holiday for you — coming to penacony, but the headache and blurry room before you has you panicking! you best know that no one is coming to save you when you’re running through the reverie hotel like a lost bunny when you receive a letter saying they’ll have you tonight! and if you think you had any chance of escape, you’re so wrong 😖

oh, and don’t let them know that you’re afraid, it only spurs them on! hunting you down through the corridors of the hotel is so adrenaline inducing for them <3 running shouldn’t be so hard though, so why do you feel as if your legs are going to give out any second? oh right, the drink! they probably drugged it, seems like something they would do

an exasperated gasp leaves you when you finally let your body fall, eyes closing, preparing for impact. and the next thing you know you wake up, hands tied above you to the headboard, your body completely bare. you’d struggle with all your might, soft whines sounding at the back of your throat when you spot the two of them hiding in the shadows, staring down at you with those bright, lust-filled eyes

oh, you’re so dead

your body feels like it’s on fire, desperately needing release, needing someone to touch you, anyone. your voice betrays you as whimpers leave you when they stalk towards you, their burning gaze not helping with the burning sensation.

you really did think you could escape! so why’re you here, tied and unable to move? tears fall as you lock eyes with veritas ratio, your fight or flight kicking in when he reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping the tears away. laughter sounds from aventurine on the other side of the bed, you’re just so naive! all he wants to do is to love and break you until you’re a sobbing mess beneath him 😵‍💫 so don’t blame him when he kisses you, he just can’t help it anymore, not when you’re already shaking when all they did was drug your drink and reveal themselves to you after months of stalking :(

the aphrodisiac is making you incredibly sensitive to their touch, which is perfect for them because that would mean hearing your sweet cries of pleasure! you best prepare yourself though, because they’re not stopping until you’re about to pass out 🧎🏻‍♀️ they haven’t had you for months, nobody is going to stop them from worshipping you, not even yourself.

you’ll be so overstimulated by the end of the night that even just innocent touches can have you whining and trembling like a leaf (^^)

“you really think you can run from us?” — veritas ratio

“who you knew you were so filthy, hmm? you wanted us to hunt you down, didn’t you? dirty, dirty girl.” — veritas ratio

“missed you so much, pretty girl.” — aventurine

“stop? now why would we do that? you’re clearly enjoying this. look at you, making such a mess on my cock.” — aventurine

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

Note

the yandere x yandere ask and your answer got me going maaaaaaad....pleeeease just one little story, just a snippet I beeeeg you...

I think I am addicted to your writing ❤️‍🔥

Ok ok you here's your little snippet I am not immune to begging (I am weak)

Word count: 1.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only, Yandere!König x Yandere!Reader, situationship with toxic König, light bondage, slight degradation, crazy idiots in love A/N: *sigh* for God's sake.

"No."

Your refusal echoes in the empty hall as you rush toward your room. The one you are talking to is marching right behind you… A giant Austrian killer, a one-man fucking machine, and a terror to women.

You know you shouldn't have said it today – hissed bitterly on the comms how everyone knows König is good with a gun after the new girl commented on what a good shot your foreign lover was.

You wanted to shoot that girl, and now hated yourself for it. Hated - and loved - how a certain lovesick madman was again following you like an oversized puppy in heat. Had followed you ever since you praised his killing skills (you were the first girl to do that, goddammit), and agreed to go on a date with him. At a gun range, no less.

You try to ignore how your neck tingles as you open the door to your room. Out of breath, you turn to slam it shut, but a strong hand shoots to prevent your strength. It stops the door from moving even an inch.

"No," you repeat while looking up at the blazing blue eyes.

How can such a cold stare scorch your skin? How can those eyes burn your very reason to a crisp…?

"I'll visit you after silence then," he promises darkly, and the tingles turn into a downright shiver.

"No you won't. I'll lock my door."

"I'll break in."

"...You're fucking crazy !"

"You have no idea, Liebling." He steals a peek down at your chest, rising and falling like a wave because you are so riled. You can almost hear how he licks his lips under that hood. "I have to return your strings, oder?"

Rage and thrill fight for your attention as you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"You–you took my…" you gasp, hating the way you sound like a pearl-clutching woman appalled by such indecency. Truth is, you are appalled. And aroused. But you're not a pearl-clutching woman.

"Pervert," you spit the word out with hot pride. He doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink at your insult.

"Ist das so? And who wanted me to tie her up last night? Hmm?"

Shit... Your cheeks pang with heat.

Tight moans and pleas of "Use that paracord on me," and "Fuck me like I'm your prisoner," flood your mind, as does his low growl of "You're mistaken, Liebling. This is no play. You are my prisoner."

You thought he would've tied you into a bed, but no: this pervy lunatic tied your hands to the ceiling, not tight, but tight enough to render you helpless as he gave you a 15-minute edging session with his tongue, followed by more than just one profound fucking session with that ridiculously long Austrian cock.

He raised you in his lap and fucked into you from standing, took you from behind like an animal, used your body any way he wanted to until you were dumb and full of his cum.

He pulled orgasms, quivering breaths and lewd moans out of you while whispering painfully sweet things in your ear – then left you hanging there after he was satisfied. You thought he went to get a towel, which he did... but he also went to get himself a beer.

He drank that pilsner in front of you, wearing only and only that stupid black hood. Surrounded by his guns and knives, this man looked like a god of war: muscles sheened in sweat, heavy cock glistening with your juices, looking at you with smug pride as the warm seed ran down your thighs.

"Let me down," you finally broke before him, pouting and throbbing from the multiple orgasms he just gave you.

"Ask nicely, Liebling."

"Please, let me down… My wrists hurt."

He came to release you from that rope immediately, carried you to his bed, and cooed what a good girl you were, taking his cock so many times like you were made for it. Cleaned you up with a warm, wet towel and promised he would bring you food from the mess if you promised to stay put. (You promised, and he did.) He even offered you a sip of that yucky beer and asked if his prisoner had everything she needed.

But what's worst is that he dares to shame you for what happened last night.

"What kind of a woman wants to be used like that...? You're dirty," he slurs, eyes flashing with desire.

"You're the one who's dirty," you half yell, then snap your mouth shut, knowing half the barracks just heard your announcement.

He just tilts his head as if it's quite normal to have an argument about who's more fucked up in the middle of an echoing hall.

"Eh? I bet you're wet even now." His voice is high and tight from anticipation. "Shall I make an inspection?"

"I will slap you if you do that," you declare with a lift of your chin. Your shoulders draw back and your hand squeezes into a fist, ready to deliver on that threat.

He looks down at your tiny paw – nothing escapes him, not even the slightest movement at the corner of his eye. But when he looks back at you again, his eyes are filled with a sinful dare.

"I'm warning you. If you come inside, I'll–"

He steps forward immediately and catches your punch like it's only a meager leaf in his way. You pout furiously as you send another fist flying, aiming for that hood – quite lousily, to be honest. Of course he catches that too, then spins you around like you two are dancing jive and forces you against a wall with his body.

It's the softest, most loving little shove and pin, and the only thing that's knocked out of air is your pride as his groin presses against your ass and shoves up, hard enough to force you up on your toes.

"You're not a woman, you're a wildcat," he rasps in your ear as the warm darkness of the hood brushes your neck. His hand rests on the wall next to your face like a warning not to squirm while the other is already traveling up the back of your thigh.

He's going to make that inspection, no doubt, shove his hand beneath your belt and into your camos. See if you're wearing another pair of "filthy strings" – or that's what this crazy dude calls the revealing underwear he says is "not suitable for decent women."

The funniest thing is that you started wearing them mainly because they clearly drive him mad...

"König..." you moan your want into the air as he slips that hand down your pants. Your hands got trapped between the wall and your chest as he pressed you there, but you wouldn't try to prevent him even if they were free.

You want to tell him how good he is with his guns, all of them. You want to tell him that you hate the new girl. You want to tell him you'll be his prisoner, always…

He takes a good, long sniff of your neck, causing your ass to grind against the hard bulge in his pants. He doesn't like the smell of gunpowder on you, doesn't like it that you're almost as good with a rifle and a scope as him. He wants to take you away from all harm and make you his little wife.

(The only harm that has ever fallen upon you is this crazy titan who makes love to you like it's the end of the world.)

"Kleine Wildkatze," he murmurs softly in your ear while agile fingers find your soaked cotton, the fragile shield between lust and madness. "I will tame you. Don't you worry about that. One day you will be purring in my lap..."

#könig x you #könig x reader #könig cod #yandere könig #yandere x yandere #könig imagine #konig x you

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beom-pyu · 11 months

Text

i can't swim, idiot ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags: best friends to lovers au , beomgyu is annoying(ly cute) , fake dating? nah... fake married? bingo! , reader is so fed up with beomgyu how is he still alive , fluff , black cat x golden retriever dynamic ??? , hinted bisexual!beomgyu happy pride month , hinted pining , nsfw , some cliche moments bc who doesn't love a good cliche

warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a wife and "mrs" , cursing , playfully (?) threatening each other's lives , soft dom!beomgyu , sub!reader , pool sex , unprotected sex , marking , praise , creampie , cum eating , morning sex <3 , cunninglus (fem receiving) , overstimulation , dry humping , big dick gyu community please gather

a/n: another summer fic for you lovelies!! <3 i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i had fun writing it! (not edited yet!)

song recs: island - youha, spotless mind - jhene aiko, nature feels - frank ocean

wc: 10.7k+

[I THINK WE JUST GOT SCAMMED.]

“wait, wait, wait. you did what?”

you slowly lower your lukewarm cup onto the cafe table before taking out your airpods—no music is playing, but you want to be 100% sure you heard him right. your best friend shoots you a lopsided grin from across the table, stirring his drink with the chewed straw in between his fingers.

“i entered us into an exclusive giveaway for married couples to win a trip to greece for a week?”

one by one, you can feel your brain cells begin to die off at his words, your eye twitching while beomgyu smiles innocently at you.

“beomgyu, i’m going to ask you a simple question and i want a simple answer.” pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale for a second before meeting his eyes with the most exasperated gaze you've ever worn in your life. “why?”

the brown-haired boy is all too quick with a reply.

“why not?” beomgyu shrugs, his tiny grin morphing into something menacing on his lips—as if this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in all of his 22 years of life.

you have the sudden passing thought to throw your coffee at his face, but that’s a precious $6 you’d never get back, so you refrain from doing so. instead, you take a slow, deep breath and momentarily close your eyes. “god, if you’re out there, please, please give me patience.”

“i’m pretty sure the phrase is ‘god give me strength’,” beomgyu retorts from his seat across from you, sipping annoyingly on his nearly empty caramel frappe.

you blink at him once, twice. “if god gave me strength, you’d be in a casket right now.”

beomgyu simply cackles at your response, feigning a scared face with his hands up like he’s being held at gunpoint before he continues to laugh at his own mockery. you kick him under the table, successfully wiping that wide smile off of his dumb face.

“what was that for?” beomgyu whines with a pout, reaching down to rub his shin. a few heads turn to see what the ruckus is about and you shoot them a polite, apologetic smile and bow before turning back to mr. drama queen. the kick wasn’t even that hard.

“did you even think about what would happen if we actually won? we don’t have the time nor the money for a resort in greece.”

“oh, calm down, y/n. you know no one ever actually wins those things, right? they’re all scams.” beomgyu waves you off with his hand before bringing the green straw back up to his lips, your ears bleeding at the sound of his obnoxious slurping. you can’t stand his face.

“and how are you so sure of that?”

“because i entered that nickelodeon giveaway thing when i was 11 and never heard back from them.”

you blink at him again, thrice this time—just in case you’ve been transported into a different dimension and a stupidity demon has possessed your best friend’s body. nonetheless, beomgyu is still grinning idiotically as he chews on his straw, tilting his head at you like a maltese.

“please be so serious right now.”

“i am! plus, even if we do win—which we won’t—and it’s not a scam… shit, that’s a free trip to greece!”

the joy on his face boils your blood to no end. he’s truly dense; you can’t believe you’re insane enough to call him your other half. everything on earth must be balanced out, you suppose—the yin to your yang.

“have you considered the fact that we aren’t married?” you cock your head at him, hands folded on top of the table, speaking slowly as if you’re talking to a child… hold on, wait—you literally are.

“shoot—could’ve fooled me!” beomgyu lets out a puff of laughter. “we might as well be.”

you blink at him again.

“please don’t ever say that again. i think i just threw up in my mouth.”

beomgyu rolls his eyes before snatching his phone out of his pocket with the speed of light to show you the flier he had screenshotted. he shoves the phone in your face, tapping incessantly at the bottom text of the photo.

“look. it says all expenses paid.”

you stare at him with a silent ‘so what?’ and beomgyu sighs dramatically as he lowers his phone. he has the nerve to be exasperated with you? you’ll never understand where men get the pure audacity.

“so you’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t pretend to be my wife for a few days so we can get a free trip to greece?”

you look him straight in the eye. “beomgyu, i’d rather be burned on a stake.”

“yea, 'cause you’re a fucking witch,” he mumbles under his breath, trying to hold in his laughter. you don’t know how much more patience you have with him, so you simply exhale, checking the clock on your phone.

“i don’t have time for this—i gotta get to my lecture,” you huff out, standing as you grab your bag that sits by your feet. beomgyu pitifully whines, looking up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes known to man.

“would you seriously not do it?”

it’s now your turn to laugh, picking up your coffee to take a big sip. you’re gonna need the caffeine.

“those things are scams, gyu—you said it yourself! see you later.”

☆

nights are oh, so serene, you think, as your head hits your fluffy pillow later that night. you’re freshly showered and tucked under your covers, snug as a bug in a rug as you doze off to the lovely scent of your hibiscus air freshener and the quiet waves of your sleep sounds machine. there’s no need to count sheep—you’re completely drained from all of the walking you had to do today. all of your classes just so happen to be on opposite sides of the campus, and you’re sure your step counter is on the verge of exploding by now.

your mattress feels even comfier today, a slight breeze coming through your cracked window, balancing out the heat from your thick duvet. it takes no time at all for you to be tugged under by the lust of sleep, drifting off to a perfect dreamland full of bright colors and open fields and your blaring ringtone.

wait.

your ringtone?

you don’t even bother to open your eyes, patting around your bed for your phone before you feel the cool screen against your fingertips. it takes a few failed swipes to actually answer, mumbling out a half-asleep “hello?” as you lazily press the device to your ear.

“hi, my wonderful bff. my world, my girl, my bro, my home-shizzle! hypothetically, on a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if i told you that the greece trip thing wasn’t a scam? and that we won? and that we leave in 2 days? hypothetically.”

the silence is incredibly loud.

…

“eleven.”

[NEWLYWEDS.]

three months ago, if you were to tell yourself that you would be adorning a fake amazon wedding ring with your best friend’s arm wrapped around your waist as you stand inside some modern insurance firm being interviewed as a newlywed couple—well, you probably would’ve admitted yourself into the nearest asylum.

you don’t know what choices from your past led you to this moment, forcing a smile as a middle-aged woman with the cleanest-cut bob you’ve ever seen enthusiastically shakes your hand before moving on to beomgyu’s. he seems completely unfazed and the thought alone irks your soul to no end.

truthfully, this is all your fault. if you would’ve just told beomgyu that you are not going to pretend to be his wife for a week, you would’ve never ended up in this situation in the first place. but can anyone blame you when he offered to pay for your coffee every single day for the next 6 months, and wash your car, and take out your trash for as long as you ask him to?

right! any sane person would’ve said yes, too!

so here you are as mrs. choi (gag), laughing along as the lady cracks a few jokes, complimenting beomgyu’s silky hair and your bright smile before sighing dreamily.

“my goodness, aren’t you two just the cutest newlyweds i’ve ever seen! how many months has it been?”

beomgyu looks down at you with a soft smile; anyone who is meeting him for the first time would’ve taken the gaze as something filled with pure adoration and undiluted love… but you know him. you see the way his eyes sparkle with mischief, the annoying quirk of his playful grin, and the pure amusement that washes over his features at your subtle glare.

he’s having way too much fun with this.

you pinch his side hard, a small bout of victory washing over you as he flinches.

deserved.

“we’re coming up on three months now?” beomgyu speaks through slightly gritted teeth before looking back up at the short woman, sending a charming smile her way. she squeals, bouncing on her heels and you bite back a grimace at the sheer volume.

“we decided to travel a bit before settling down and buying a home here in seoul,” you speak robotically, following the exact script you both came up with in your notes app on facetime last night. beomgyu hums in affirmation, tapping your side in a silent “good job”.

“awe! how sweet is that? what a wonderful idea to travel together while you're still young and nimble, unlike this old lady right here.” the lady honks out a laugh as she points to herself with her thumbs. you glance over at beomgyu who seems to be having the time of his life and—the regret of saying yes quickly settles deep in your bones. “you pair are such a lovely and beautiful couple!”

her high-pitched and overly enthusiastic voice pierces your ears and you can already feel the headache coming on.

“well, what can i say? it was love at first sight. i knew i had to make her mine and see the world with her as soon as possible,” beomgyu smoothly recites, gazing back down at you with the same look as before. you feel the bile rise in your throat. the words are so foreign to your ears, it’s almost jarring. the lady doesn’t even notice your discomfort and continues on and on about how cute you both are, how you remind her of her niece, and how beomgyu should totally be a model.

you force the fakest smile ever as beomgyu pinches your side, a cue for you to speak up. resisting the urge to punch him for pinching you (even though you had done it first), you simply nod along with an artificial laugh, your hand coming up to rest on his chest in faux infatuation.

ew.

“marrying beomgyu was the best decision i’ve ever made. i’ve never been happier.”

you swear you feel your eye twitch as the lady coos—she claps her hands excitedly, her short bob bouncing with the movement.

“how heartwarming! i’m sure this trip will bring you even closer, shedding a new light on the glitter of your love for decades to come!”

you and beomgyu are silent for a beat—because what the fuck is she even saying?—before awkwardly laughing, nodding along in hopes that she’ll wrap this up quickly. the lady’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as a stiffness fills the air, clapping her hands again as he ushers you two towards the lyft.

“better get a move on so you don’t miss your flight! i hope you have a wonderful time, lovebirds! and congratulations once again!”

the car is absolutely silent as you both settle in after all of your luggage is loaded up. beomgyu has this annoying, close-lipped smile on his face, his lips pursed like a duck—he’s so obviously trying to hold in his laughter as you grumble under your breath, snatching that stupid plastic ring off of your finger.

you glance at him before rolling your eyes. “go ahead.”

in the blink of an eye, his boisterous laughter fills the car, high and squeaky, and you silently empathize with the lyft driver who subtly turns the radio up to combat the intrusive noise. beomgyu’s doubled over, patting his leg as he gasps for air, eyes squeezed shut; and as much as you hate to admit it, your own lips quirk up into a small smile at the sound. curse your best friend and his contagious laughter.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” beomgyu heaves out before another round of giggles leaves his lips. he reaches up to push his hair out of his face before wiping at his eyes dramatically.

“i didn’t think i had it in me,” you agree, giving in to the grin that slowly spreads across your face. you make the horrible decision of meeting beomgyu’s eyes, and it takes less than a millisecond for you both to aggressively burst out laughing, bodies falling against each other's as your limbs grow weak.

“no, that was the funniest shit ever, i swear. we sold it.”

“for a second, i actually thought you were really in love with me.” your laughter slowly dies down as beomgyu lifts himself off of you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath. you’re sure you don’t look any better—you definitely have abs after all of that.

“i just had to pretend that you were i.u,” beomgyu admits with an overexaggerated dreamy look off into the distance. you’re quick to fall into another fit of laughter but for a different reason this time.

“i.u doesn’t date freaks.”

beomgyu’s lips dramatically pout as he crosses his arms over his chest like a little kid, scoffing at your comment. “why do you always have to crush my dreams?”

“i don’t always crush your dreams. only when they’re stupid.”

“so… always?”

“no—yes.”

beomgyu’s quiet for a moment, turning his head to look out the window. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, but the expression quickly smooths out as he turns towards you, uncrossing his arms to play with the fake ring on his finger.

“i’m not taking the couch.”

“what?”

“it’s a couple’s suite. i’m taking the bed since i’m the one who entered us in the first place.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes again—your mother had told you that one day your eyeballs would get stuck in the back of your head, and right now, that idea didn’t seem so bad. beomgyu’s teasing smile is anger-inducing, and you think you might rip it off if you have to look at it any longer.

“what happened to chivalry? i’m your wife now, so as the man, you have to give me the bed.”

“fuck chivalry! you’re mean to me. i owe you nothing,” beomgyu huffs, squinting his eyes at you.

“i’m not mean to you,” you immediately defend, hitting his arm for even making such heinous accusations. beomgyu gasps, reaching up to hold his arm where you made impact.

“see? mean!” once again, the dramatics are almost admirable—there’s no way that hurt. he’s been hitting the gym with his roommate taehyun lately, and you’ve seen the way he’s bulked up from the scrawny shrimp boy he used to be in high school. if anything, the hit hurt you!

“let’s play rock paper scissors, then. two out of three gets the bed.”

beomgyu huffs, but obediently holds up his fist. “fine.”

three games pass by in a blur.

“you cheated!” he whines, pointing his finger at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“how did i cheat? just admit you suck ass, mr. couch.” your triumphant smile results in another whine from the loser next to you, putting his fist back up for a rematch. “no, i already won!”

“you’re lucky i love you.” beomgyu’s quick to give up, a tiny smile appearing on his face at the way you pretend to gag at his words.

those butterflies in your stomach are only because you skipped breakfast that morning—totally not because of the soft gaze he sends your way, mindlessly playing with the plastic ring on his finger as you two fall into a comfortable silence. totally.

☆

this sucks.

today is the first time you’ve ever ridden in first class, and you can’t even enjoy it because of the exhaustion running rampant through your veins. there’s a reason why you picked all afternoon and late night lectures; why you avoid any invitations to go out for breakfast with your friends; and why you have blackout curtains on all of your windows. you are not a morning person, whatsoever, and with that 8 a.m interview and your flight at 10 on the dot, you’re absolutely beat.

for starters, pretending to actually be in love with your best friend in front of a lady who cannot speak at a normal, human volume is more taxing than swimming from portugal to australia with no breaks. you swear. second, beomgyu has apparently never ridden an airplane before and therefore has no idea what airport etiquette is.

(“you have to put all of your electronics in the bins, okay?”

“when i go through the x-ray thing, will they see my underwear? oh my god, no, will they see my dick?”

“no, they won’t see your dick, beomgyu.”

“but how do you know they won’t see my dick? sick fucks.”

“they’re literally doing their job, beomgyu.”

“they can do their job without looking at my dick!”

“they aren’t going to see your dick!”

the lady in front of you covers her kid's ears as she shoots you two the nastiest glare you’ve ever seen. you both bow in apology before you flick beomgyu on the back of his neck.)

you can barely keep your eyes open as you watch some marvel movie on the little screen in front of you, fighting to at least stay awake long enough to order dinner. it’s futile, though, because you’re already blacking out every few minutes, head lulling side to side like a bobblehead.

you finally give up the battle, reminding yourself that there will be endless food at the resort, so you settle yourself into your plush seat, resting your cheek against your neck pillow. from this angle, you have a perfect view of beomgyu who’s in the secluded seat next to you, and—oh.

he looks… he looks softer than usual, only illuminated by the natural light emerging through the circular windows. his hair is slightly mussed from his fingers, his long fringe hanging over his eyes in such a way that he has to keep shaking it out of his vision. he has his earbuds in, watching the sky through the tiny window next to him with his bottom lip in between his teeth—a habit he’s had since he was young. you know he’s thinking, lost in his mind abyss by the way his fingers fidget with the end of his shirt, his leg shaking incessantly.

“hey, gyu,” you call out quietly so as to not disturb anyone else around you. his music must’ve been turned down low, seeing as his eyes find yours at the call of his name, taking an earbud out to hear you better. “you okay?”

if there’s one thing you know about your best friend, it’s when he’s nervous. it shows with the way his leg doesn’t stop moving, even as he nods out a yes in reply to your question, seeing his jaw move as he grinds his teeth together.

“the plane keeps shaking,” he whispers, eyes wide and worried as a little bit of turbulence rocks the cabin right after he finishes speaking. even in your tired state, you can’t help but laugh softly at his animated expression, shaking your head.

“are you scared?” the teasing tone in your voice is apparent—beomgyu rapidly shakes his head in disagreement, but you see right through him as his hand grips the armrest, eyebrows knitted together. everything in your nature tells you to tease him, rile him up a bit, poke fun at him—but he genuinely looks concerned, and you’re too tired to come up with anything witty to say. instead…

“it’s just turbulence. you’re okay, gyu.”

you watch the way beomgyu relaxes ever so slightly, nodding his head as his grip loosens. you send him a little smile, not bothering to wait for him to smile back before turning your head the other way, finally letting sleep pull you under.

[FREE MARGARITAS.]

you don’t get a single moment to look around the resort because as soon as you both lug all of your things into your suite, you’re told a romantic, candle-lit dinner on the beach just down the hill has been reserved for you two as a welcome gift by the company. you’re not complaining of course, but you still would’ve liked to at least get acquainted with the area before indulging in everything.

it takes you an hour and a half to get ready; partially because beomgyu’s showers take forever. he’s in there singing along to some random 70s hits playlist, having the time of his life, while you take the time to look around the suite.

it’s huge, to say the least. a single pod building that sits on a hill full of others alike with pristine white walls and elegant decoration—it’s almost 3 times bigger than your own apartment and you can only imagine how much all of this would’ve cost. wide, open windows line the walls with marbled tile underneath your feet, the furniture ranging from white to beige to a palette of blues, mimicking the colors of the beach in the distance.

outside is a wide patio with a glistening pool and comfy lounge area, complete with a loveseat and a swing. it has the perfect view of the coast, the sun already lowering behind the horizon. it’s absolutely breathtaking, and you make sure to take plenty of pictures, even posting a few on your instagram story (without tagging beomgyu, because you’re pissed at how long he’s taking in the bathroom.)

by the time he comes out, his hair is blow-dried and pushed out of his face with a headband. he looks like casper the friendly ghost with the white facemask he adorns and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

you force yourself to dismiss the way he only has a towel wrapped around his waist, chest completely bare as he strides over to his suitcase—he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence as he pulls out the most formal thing he can find, dropping it onto the bed.

“you gonna shower or what?” he asks over his annoyingly broad shoulder, hands reaching down to undo the towel around his waist. a yelp leaves your lips at the sudden movement, covering your eyes as you rush towards the bathroom.

“you’re disgusting!” you yell before slamming the door shut, locking it for good measure. his cackles ring throughout the suite and you flick him off from behind the wall—he can’t see it, but you want to at least get it out of your system.

halfway through your shower, you realize you forgot to bring your clothes into the bathroom to change. you blame this all on beomgyu—half because somehow every inconvenience in your life is all his fault and half because you just want a reason to ignore the way you keep thinking about how toned he’s gotten recently. you mentally make it your mission to shut down every single gym in his vicinity.

you wrap your towel tight around your body before cracking the door open, the cool air from the a/c attacking your skin like icicles. poking your head out, you scan the room for any sign of your counterpart, but the room seems to be completely empty. you wait a few seconds, just in case he decides to make any unannounced appearances before deeming the room safe enough to enter. the coast is clear.

you rush over to your suite case, unzipping it to find an appropriate dress, deciding on a white one to match the white button-up beomgyu had pulled out. you grab your makeup bag, as well as your perfume and it isn’t until you stand back up to find refuge in the bathroom that you notice the figure in the doorway. you jump in surprise, a small scream escaping your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself defensively.

“you fucking stalker,” you huff as he doubles over in laughter.

“oh my god, you should’ve seen your face,” he gasps, holding his hand to his stomach as his entire body vibrates with cackles. despite the venomous glare you send his way, your eyes can’t help but catch onto the fact that beomgyu cleans up nicely.

you’ve gotten so used to beomgyu’s endless collection of sweatpants and hoodies that the thought of him looking like an a-list celebrity never once crossed your mind. the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest, appropriately decorated with a few layered necklaces. it seems like he decided to trade out his usual dangly earrings and ear piercings for simple studs that shine when the chandelier above you hits them.

those black dress pants hug his legs in a way that makes you swallow, feeling your body grow warm at the way he tucks his hands into his pockets. he cocks his head at you curiously, a jesting smile on his lips—he looks infuriatingly good, to the point where you have to physically rip your eyes away from him.

“like what you see?” he badgers while he strolls into the room, as if he can see right through your little facade. you scoff, holding your stuff tight to your chest as you flee towards the bathroom again.

“what happened to privacy?” you make sure to completely ignore his previous question—he can tell all too easily when you’re lying, and you really don’t feel like being teased relentlessly tonight.

“what’s the issue? you’re my wife now, aren’t you?” his voice is provoking, playful as you burn through him with another intense glare.

“beomgyu, i promise you, i will drown you in that pool if you say another word.” and then you happily slam the door shut in his face.

“no, you won’t! you love me too much,” he singsongs from behind the door. all you can do is roll your eyes because—yes. yes, you do.

☆

you don’t think you’ve ever seen beomgyu act so… gentlemanly ever since he tried to get his 6th grade crush to like him back—but this time, without the weird phrases he stole from western movies and the electric blue braces that lined his teeth.

he’s committed to this husband act; pulling your chair out for you and pushing you in after you take a seat, kissing the back of your hand (you kicked him under the table at that), and even telling you that you look, and you quote, “absolutely stunning, baby.”

you hope your discontentment isn’t showing too obviously through your forced smiles and giggles, that plastic wedding band around your ring finger uncomfortably sticking to your skin.

you can’t deny the fact that the dinner is really nice, though. never in your life would you have thought you’d be drinking expensive wines and eating 5-star cuisine on a beach with your childhood best friend—you’re pretty sure 14-year-old y/n would’ve complained about how it should’ve been choi soobin from 4th period instead of beomgyu, but you’ll take what you can get.

in all honesty, it simply feels like a normal dinner out with your best friend. you both still laugh and joke as usual, reminiscing on the time when beomgyu forgot to take out his retainer before his band performed at the school festival in 10th grade, resulting in a slurred rendition of sk8er boi by avril lavigne and a crowd full of giggling onlookers. (if you had to threaten a few people to leave beomgyu alone about it afterward, then so be it.)

the thing is, it’s not hard to let go around beomgyu. you’ve known each other since you were in diapers; defending beomgyu from bullies in elementary, attending all of his self-made band’s concerts, and hanging out on your rooftop eating popsicles and gummy worms. you could complain all you’d like about his teasing, his constant, exuberated nature, and his inane questions, but there’s no one else that you’d put your life on the line for, other than the puppy-like man in front of you.

his eyes sparkle with the reflection of the candlelight as he rambles on about how he genuinely thought planes did a loopty-loop before taking off and your heart aches with a sort of warmth you’ve been trying to dismiss for so long.

the dinner ends all too quickly, and by the time you down your last glass, you realize you’re slightly tipsy. you’ve always been a lightweight, but you really didn’t think you drank that much—you must’ve been too distracted by beomgyu’s crazy stories to acknowledge the waiter constantly filling your glass after every few sips. at least it was free.

you slightly wobble on your heels as you take a stand in the sand, a little noise of surprise leaving your lips as a warm hand meets your hip, swiftly steadying you. you look down and automatically recognize the amazon ring, your head turning to meet beomgyu’s gentle eyes.

“don’t tell me i have to carry you all the way back.” and even though it’s a joke, there’s a layer of genuineness in his tone as you stumble again.

“‘m not that drunk,” you reply with the slightest of slurs, quietly giggling at the simple image of beomgyu carrying you bridal style to the bed. now that would truly sell the act, for sure. beomgyu shakes his head with a small smile, but his hand doesn’t leave your waist as he guides you back towards the suite, his touch firm and sturdy.

you’re almost across the beach when you stumble again, but this time, your heel actually gives out as you trip, a tiny yelp leaving your lips right before you hit the ground. you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact—but it never comes.

“yep. i’m carrying you.”

you crack an eye open to see beomgyu with an amused smile on his face, both of his hands holding onto your hips. turns out you weren’t even close to hitting the ground at all… okay, maybe you are drunk.

“piggy back ride?” you ask with a little giggle. you’re reminded of that time beomgyu had to give you a piggyback ride all the way back home from the park after you sprained your ankle trying to do a backflip off of the swing in elementary school. what a time.

beomgyu rolls his eyes fondly, but gives you a little nod, letting go of your waist to kneel down by your feet. “give me your foot.”

you give him a quizzical look, cocking your head at him in pure confusion before he pats his thigh, motioning towards your leg. still a bit out of it, you hold onto his shoulder as you lift your foot, feeling a weird sensation rush up your spine at the way he gently holds onto your calf to slip your heel off of your foot. he does the same to the other without a word, completely unfazed by the way your mouth remains slightly ajar in shock. his fingers are gentle and soothing against your skin, despite being mildly calloused from his guitar back home.

it’s enough to throw you off, swallowing as his eyes meet yours again. his eyes are incredibly soft as he smiles up at you—he motions towards his back with a quiet “hop on”.

you obey, only faltering slightly as your arms sling around his shoulders. with the new proximity, you can smell his cologne, something sweet and woodsy. his hands grab onto your thighs—one decorated with high heels hanging off two of his fingers—before hiking you up a bit. he begins walking, saying something about how he thinks there’s 10 tons of sand in his shoes by now—and if he notices you’re too distracted by his hands on your legs to process what he’s saying, he doesn’t mention it.

☆

the view is absolutely breathtaking through the glass tall windows of your suite, the rays bouncing off of the pool as you watch beomgyu wade in the water, his eyes shut. it’s weird seeing him like this—fully relaxed, calm, and still.

it seems like ever since you met beomgyu, all chubby-cheeked and busy-bodied, he’s always been on the move. whether it be to sprint down the road to meet you at the corner so you can walk to school together, or high in the air as he jumps on your trampoline… and even when his body is physically still, his mouth still runs a mile a minute, talking about anything and everything in the entire universe, letting his thoughts run wild around you.

as much as you truly do adore his silly side, him being the main reason why you were able to break out of your shell in the first place, you can’t help but be slightly fascinated with this alternate side of him.

it’s morning now; the yellowish-white hue of the blinding sun bounces off of his skin as he soaks up the moment, his brown hair getting so long it falls down the back of his neck in soft layers. you feel like a creep, watching him like this, but something about the entire atmosphere makes your eyes unable to look away as you slowly sip on the complimentary margaritas.

your best friend has always been attractive—that’s one thing you cannot deny. he’s had his fair share of flings, and partners (and even a throuple once) throughout the years while you’ve only endured a few situationships here and there. he’s been called handsome his entire childhood and well into his adult years, taking the compliment in stride. he never let it get to his head or fuel his ego, though; for some reason, that fact makes him even more appealing.

he’s always just been your best friend, and you both are incredibly okay with that label—you know each other best, and that’s all that really matters. never mind the way his eyelashes flutter like monarch butterflies, or the way his cheeks flush when it’s too cold outside, or the way his leg bounces when he’s excited or nervous, alike. you try to ignore the way his laughter always manages to make the sun come out, and the way he always orders for you at restaurants because he knows you aren’t a fan of talking to strangers, and the way he seems always to know what you need, right when you need it.

he’s truly the yin to your yang. but there’s something else bubbling under the surface that you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to acknowledge yet.

a loud call of your name grabs your attention, your vision focusing on a grinning beomgyu waving you down from the edge of the pool. you don’t even have it in you to huff at the prospect of moving from your comfortable lounge chair, standing up to make your way to the large patio. sliding the door open, you poke your head out, immediately feeling the muggy air of midday wrap around you like a heated blanket.

“get in with me! the water is super warm,” he calls, motioning you towards him with his arm, the action flicking water everywhere. you frown a bit, looking at the pool behind him before meeting his eager eyes again.

“you know i can’t swim, idiot.”

beomgyu’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as he shrugs, holding his hand out.

“then i’ll do the swimming for you.”

the offer is so light-hearted and casual—it shouldn’t make your heart lunge in your chest, your gut twisting with anticipation at the simple implications of his words.

you’re already in your bathing suit from the mirror selfies you took for simply the aesthetic—a simple blue bikini tied tightly around your frame. you really don’t want to waste your time here; when else will you get the chance to stay in greece for free with your best friend?

so you let your feet carry you to the stairs of the pool, your fingers wrapping around the metal railing as you slowly step in, foot by foot. by the time you’ve made it waist deep, you begin to feel the fear creep into your bones.

“i won’t let you drown, y/n,” beomgyu laughs as you suspiciously eye the deep end of the pool, unable to even see the bottom of it. your hand tightly grips the rail as beomgyu wades his way toward you, holding his hand out for you to take. “i promise. just hold on to me.”

you nibble on your lip as your eyes flicker down to his hand, feeling the water move gently around you. drowning has always been one of your biggest fears, and because of that, you’ve always stayed far away from any body of water capable of swallowing you up whole.

but beomgyu’s eyes are warmer than the water, the most delicate of smiles resting on his soft features. there’s no room to be scared—not with the way his hand is so grounding as you take hold of it, squealing a bit as he tugs you closer.

“do you trust me?” and when he speaks, his voice is just barely above a whisper, his face so close to yours that you can individually count his eyelashes. his margarita-tinted breath fans over your lips and you find yourself unable to cringe away, nodding cautiously in response.

your hands tightly grasp his shoulders as he wraps a strong arm around your waist, holding you close to him as he uses his other arm to swim deeper into the pool. his doesn’t let up, even slightly, his grip sturdy around your figure as he utilizes one arm to keep you both afloat.

“here, wrap your legs around me,” he speaks, tapping your thigh under the water. you’re sure your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline, your mouth bobbing open and shut like a fish out of water.

“wha… huh?” you question oh, so eloquently, the rumble of beomgyu’s laughter transferring against your skin. his nose crinkles up in the way it always does when he finds something to be a bit too entertaining, his eyes forming those pretty crescent moons as his eyelashes tickle his cheeks.

“it’ll make this easier. i’m not trying to carry a dead weight,” beomgyu speaks as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. you’re still dumbfounded, blinking at him blankly—so he decides to take matters into his own hands, reaching down to situate you against him by himself. “there, that’s better.”

a persistent heat surges through your stomach as your brain slowly registers the position. beomgyu’s arm tightens around your waist as you adjust your hips in a way that makes your clothed core brush against his bulge. you almost see the way his eyes darken, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his bottom lip. it’s quiet, still as the distant sound of the beach’s waves and the gentle trickle of water fills in the silence.

your arms slowly come up to wrap around his neck—you don’t know what possesses you; some weird entity that makes beomgyu’s lips look all too kissable, and his eyes sickeningly alluring. his adam’s apple bobs as his eyes flicker across your face. you don’t register the way he slowly wades you both toward the wall of the pool, effectively caging you in as your back gently presses against the tile.

you have the chance to run, to push him off of you, and go back inside—to pretend your core doesn’t pulse with want as he presses his entire body against you. his chest is warm and his eyes are blown out, and you can say no.

but you don’t want to.

his eyes search yours for something before they trail down to your lips, his hips meeting yours in a way that renders you slightly dizzy with the proximity.

“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop, right now,” he whispers, his fingers leaving a ticklish feeling against your exposed skin under the water. you swallow.

“i want this, please.” and his lips are on yours before you can take another breath.

it’s nothing gentle; as if he’s been starved for your taste for all of eternity. the kiss is bruising as he nibbles on your bottom lip, his tongue meeting yours as you gasp into his mouth. he takes control easily, his hips moving against yours as the water moves around you, the sound mixing in with your quiet moans and beomgyu’s sparse grunts.

he swallows all of your sounds, holding you down against him as he bucks up into your core, his dick hard and heavy in between your legs. you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist as you match his movement to the best of your ability. you’re nearly unable to think straight as he kisses the oxygen out of you, your mind growing hazy as pleasure shoots up your spine when he rubs against your clit just right.

beomgyu breaks the kiss to dive into your neck, sucking and biting small marks onto your unblemished skin before kissing over the soon-to-be marks. he can’t keep his mouth off of you as he trails his lips under your jaw, over your clavicle, nipping at your cleavage. your own voice sounds foreign in your ears as every lick and bite shoots straight to your core, feeling that knot in your gut tightens with every thrust.

“think you can cum just like this, hm? just from humping my cock?” beomgyu pants against your skin as his lips brush over your cheek, his breath fanning your ears. the head of beomgyu’s clothed dick catches onto your slit for the slightest of seconds, and you have to clench all of the muscles in your body to not cum on the spot.

“ye—yes, please don’t stop,” you whine, tilting your head back to invite his lips back to your neck. you’re sure you’re leaving marks on beomgyu’s shoulder blades from how hard your nails dig into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, it makes his hips work faster against yours, pressing you full-on against the pool walls.

“so good for me, fuck.”

beomgyu kisses up your neck, a low groan leaving his lips at the way you’re bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat, clawing at his skin as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“gyu, ‘m—can i cum? please, please, please.” you can’t hold on anymore—not with the way beomgyu laughs against your skin, his free hand reaching up to grab your chin, forcing your lips against his again. he licks into your mouth with fervor, your teeth clashing together. your spit-slicked lips slide against each other, wet and messy, and he finally decides to take pity on you.

“go ahead, cum for me, baby.”

your brain goes blank as you finally come undone, blindly sinking into beomgyu’s lips and his faltering thrusts. your entire body tenses up as you moan against his lips, feeling like a ragdoll in the way he leaves soft kisses against your lax mouth. a low, rumbling groan emits from his chest as his hips still, twitching against yours subtly. he exhales once he finally pulls away from your swollen lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

it takes a second for you both to catch your breaths and when you finally blink your eyes open, beomgyu’s puppy-like eyes are already on yours.

“you okay?” his voice oozes with a type of concern; care that feels all too intimate. his pupils are blown wide, alluring and deep as they scan your face. you nod with a small sigh, leaning forward to drop your head onto his shoulder. you feel his torso shake with a chuckle at the action, feeling an unnamed emotion run through your chest.

you don’t pay any mind to it, though. not while you're ruminating in a cum-contaminated body of water.

“we should probably call someone to clean the pool.” and the laughter that bubbles out of beomgyu’s mouth is enough to distract you, just for a moment.

[I DO.]

it’s a weird, strange domestic feeling waking up to a fluffy head of brown hair resting on your shoulder, caged in by gentle arms around your waist. beomgyu’s always been a cuddler, and a week ago, you would’ve cringed at the simple thought of indulging him.

but now, a warm feeling blooms in your chest like a hydrangea as your fingers slip into his mussed hair to play with the strands. you’ve been cowed by your emotions, unable to fight off the fond smile that climbs onto your lips at the sight of the teddy bear-esque man clinging to you in his sleep.

you don’t know what to do with all of these butterflies swarming in your chest, flapping against each other, kicking up a sandstorm of admiration that runs wild through your veins. he’s your best friend—and at this point in time, you know he’s more than that.

it’s crazy to think that romantic feelings can accumulate overnight, and you’re starting to suspect that maybe these feelings have existed all along. he’s the only one capable of rendering you speechless, whether it be from the crazy things he says or the way his eyes sparkle with a sense of youthfulness that tethers you two together. he’s the only one who can make you feel so carefree and in the moment—you don’t worry about the future or what’s to come with beomgyu. you simply enjoy the now, soaking up his blinding smiles and outlandish stories.

he’s waking up, you realize, as he mumbles under his breath, nuzzling closer to you. his lips brush your neck, his hair tickling your cheek in a way that makes your nose scrunch up with a small giggle. you feel drunk despite the fact that all of the alcohol has long dispersed in your body overnight—you blame it all on the fact that the sun sits high in the sky, shining kindly through the wide, open windows. it lights beomgyu up in a way that squeezes your heart painfully, the white sheets strewn across his waist making him look so soft and gentle.

“good morning,” you mumble with a tiny smile as beomgyu begins littering faint kisses against the expanse of your neck, brushing over the previous marks he’d left there yesterday. he simply hums in response, his arms loosening from around your waist to trail up the side of your body—his touch is so delicate, you let yourself get lost in the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he softly nips at your skin.

he situates himself so that he’s hovering over you and you open your eyes again, feeling the sudden urge to shy away from his gaze. you’ve never seen such a look in his eyes—something so heavy and raw. as if he’s prying you apart and putting you back together again. it makes a shiver run up your spine.

“good morning, beautiful,” he finally replies and you can’t help but giggle again—you feel like a teenager, the way your stomach flutters at his morning voice, all deep and raspy and sultry. his brown eyes are half-lidded from sleep, his skin warm as his fingers brush your cheek.

the tension in the air isn’t incredibly prominent—it still lingers but with a less demanding presence. it’s natural and easy in the way it always is with beomgyu. existing with beomgyu is just so uncomplicated.

you feel yourself melt into the sheets as he presses closer, molding himself into you perfectly—as if he was destined to be right here all along. his nose brushes yours as he leans in, and when his lips touch yours, any thoughts clouding your mind immediately disperse, making room for the sun itself. your arms come up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, feeling his heartbeat against yours. you feel safe, lax, content; all things good in the world.

his lips are unrushed as they move against yours, silently speaking a thousand words as he cups the side of your face, his hips subtly moving against yours. you sigh into his mouth, tilting your head to deepen the kiss—you don’t care about morning breath or the fact that you probably look a mess with your ridden-up shirt and tired eyes. and beomgyu doesn’t care either, licking into your mouth as if you’re a rare delicacy, grinding down against your thin panties.

he’s half-hard in his pants, desperately rubbing against you to chase whatever pleasure he can get. it’s endearing almost, the way he moans into your mouth as you reach down to slip your fingers past his waistband to trail a light touch over his dick. his voice is deeper than normal, stirring something inside of you that makes your legs clamp around his hips.

“i want you, gyu,” you breathe out once his lips finally leave yours, pumping him slowly. his lips catch in between his teeth as your fingers run over the head of his dick, feeling your fingers coat with sticky precum.

“hm? gotta be more specific than that, gorgeous,” beomgyu teases despite the way he’s slowly thrusting into your hand, smiling down at you in a way that usually would’ve pissed you off—but right now, it only makes your pussy drip with want.

“i want you inside of me. want you to fill me up,” you whine out as his fingers rub your clit over your panties, moving lower to press against your damp entrance. his resolve crumbles all too quickly as you peer up at him with your doe eyes, lips parted as you whine softly, moving your hips against his fingers.

“fuck, okay baby.”

you let him move away to strip himself of his sparse clothing as you pull your shirt over your head. the butterflies return quickly as you realize this is the first time you’re seeing each other completely unclothed and—oh god. he’s huge. your half-asleep state didn’t realize the sheer amount of dick between your fingers, but now that you’re seeing it in the morning light, you aren’t even sure if it’ll fit.

beomgyu makes his way back over to you, his fingers hooking onto the band of your panties to drag them down your legs. his eyes are almost predatory as he takes in your glistening folds, unable to stop himself from running his fingers over your cunt, collecting your juices.

“you’re dripping,” he awes, his eyes flickering up to yours with a small smile. a heat rushes up your neck, shyly covering your face with both of your hands. beomgyu’s small laugh resonates throughout the room, feeling his clean hand come up to gently move your arms away.

when you meet his eyes again, they’re filled with a sort of fondness that makes your head spin, makes your heart stutter—it’s horrible and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips as his fingers return to your cunt, slightly dipping into your hole, soaking them even more.

“i want you to look at me. can you do that?” beomgyu gently requests and you’re nodding before you can fully register his words. he flashes you a proud smile before he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean of your juices. an airy, surprised moan leaves your body against your will at the sight, and his smile broadens. “you taste amazing, baby.”

his middle finger enters your entrance with no resistance, and you feel yourself clench down as he curls it upwards to gently explore your walls. it’s all too much and not enough all at once. he’s going incredibly slow, as if you two have all the time in the world, but you can’t wait. you need him now.

“please, just fuck me. ‘m ready,” you demand through a whine, pleading with your eyes, an action that effectively softens beomgyu's gaze. he doesn’t remove his finger, but instead adds another alongside it, his thumb coming to brush against your clit. you buck against his hand with a small moan as he moves up your body, trailing kisses from your hipbone, to your breasts, and finally your lips.

it’s a chaste peck, but it’s enough to leave you wanting more, chasing after his lips once he pulls back. you whine at the loss, already feeling your brain turn to mush with the way his fingers slowly drag against the walls of your cunt, his thumb just barely applying pressure to your swollen nub.

“are you sure?”

“yes, yes, ‘m sure. want your cock, gyu. just—” you’re nearly hysterical as your hips grind down on his fingers. you can already feel the frustrated tears brimming your eyelashes, reaching up to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his. “please, please…”

“shh. it’s okay, baby,” beomgyu coos, pressing a few soft kisses to your lips. you quietly gasp as he removes his fingers from your hole. he kisses your cheeks all too delicately, his forearm resting by your head to steady himself. “i’ll take care of you. just relax.”

you almost cry happy tears with the way you feel the head of his cock tease your hole, dipping in but not fully entering. his lips find yours again as he drags his dick in between your sopping folds, swallowing his low moan at the feeling. “my perfect girl. so pretty, so wet for me.”

when he pushes in, your arms tighten around his neck, your enter body locking up at the intrusion. you feel like a virgin again, his girth stretching you open almost uncomfortably. his thumb rubs your hips to soothe you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss to distract you from the feeling. he stops for a second, letting you get used to his dick as he peppers kisses across your face.

“fuck, it feels like you’re splitting me in half,” you blurt out and beomgyu can’t help but laugh softly, his forehead resting against yours. “i think i can feel you in my throat.”

“can you stop making me laugh so i can fuck you stupid, please?”

his words are lighthearted, but the thought of being fucked to the point where you can’t even speak has you shutting up in no time. you whine quietly as beomgyu continues pushing into you until he’s fully situated inside of your cunt—you’re fluttering around him like crazy, feeling the faint pain slowly dispersing into pleasure as he kisses your jaw.

“you can move now,” you mumble, and beomgyu wastes no time pulling out, almost all the way, just to snap his cock back into you with a force that rocks the bed slightly. you can’t cover up the choked-out gasp that leaves your lips, eventually turning into a stream of moans and whines as he quickly sets a brutal pace.

his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, your mind clouding over as pleasure fills your bloodstream, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. he places one last kiss on your lips before sitting up, both of his hands moving wrapping around your thighs. you’re so wet that his dick easily glides in and out of you, wet, squelching sounds filling the room as you drip around him.

“you’re so tight, god. letting me fuck you raw like the needy slut you are,” he chastizes, groaning as he pulls your body in to meet his hips. his strokes are so deep, you already feel yourself nearing your high.

“yes, yes, yes. need you,” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets. “so big, gyu. ‘s too much, i can’t—”

“you were the one crying for my cock, so you better take it.” his sudden demeanor change sends a tingly rush up your spine, leaving your brain a muddled mess. his bangs have fallen into his eyes, his cheekbones flushed with a slight pink from the physical exertion and the warmth of the sun beaming through the windows. his stomach contracts with every thrust into your wet heat, low moans and sharp gasps leaving his lips as his eyes fall shut, his head lolling back at the feeling.

your core throbs, gut tightening with every passing moment—at some point, he brings his fingers down to circle your clit, whimpers leaving your mouth at the overwhelming feeling of it all. you clench down around him, hand stretching out for something, anything; and it only takes a few seconds for beomgyu to notice. his fingers interlace with yours, giving your hand a grounding squeeze.

“gonna fill you up—gonna make a mess of this pretty pussy,” beomgyu pants out, a low moan leaving his lips as his hips slightly stutter.

“‘m gonna cum, gyu, ‘m cumming,” you babble out, your head rolling to the side as your eyes shut, the immense pleasure coursing through your body becoming all too much. somewhere through your muffled ears, you hear beomgyu praising you for taking him so well, but by that point, you’re already gone.

the moan that leaves your lips is nearly pornagraphic, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your orgasm washes over you. all the air is punched out of your lungs and beomgyu thrusts deep into you before settling there, a low groan leaving his lips as his dick twitches inside of you.

“fuck, baby, i love you. i love you so much,” he breathes out as he cums—you feel the hot streaks of his cum painting your insides, shooting places you weren’t even sure existed inside of you. it leaves your mind hazy, unable to even process the way he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you and onto the white sheets.

the feeling of a hot, wet tongue against your entrance makes your hips buck up—you let out a surprised gasp that’s quickly overtaken by a whimper, your hand reaching to entangle itself in his hair.

“wait, gyu—fuck, i’m sensitive,” you whine, feeling your eyes brim with tears at the overstimulation. his tongue flicks against your abused cunt as he cleans up his own cum, fucking it back into you with his tongue.

“you can take it, baby. i know you can,” he pants against your pussy before his lips encircle your clit, sucking and nibbling ever so slightly. you can’t control the noise leaving your lips, whining and moaning as your legs clamp around his head. beomgyu simply chuckles against you before two of his fingers enter your pussy, teasing and prodding at your sentive walls.

“gyu, i can’t, i can’t…” you sob, tears running down your cheeks as the overstimulation sends painful shocks up your spine. you’re gushing around his tongue, the sheets beneath you completely soaked through. your brain fights against itself, your body unsure of whether to press closer or pull away. you can’t think about anything other than beomgyu’s fingers and mouth, eyes squeezed shut as your body racks with sobs.

“yes, you can. cum on my tongue, pretty girl.”

and you do, your back arching as you moan loudly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as your hips frot against his face, waves of pleasure washing over you, drowning you. your entire body trembles with shocks as your mind goes blank, flopping back onto the bed as you attempt to catch your breath. tears are still running down your cheeks—your entire body feels like it’s floating. you’re completely wrung out. that was probably the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

you don’t even register beomgyu’s soft hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears away, his lips pressing against your forehead, your nose; anywhere his lips can reach. it’s grounding as you slowly come back down to earth.

“you did so well for me, baby. so, so perfect. so beautiful. you took it all, i’m so proud of you.”

you blink your eyes open at his words, feeling those butterflies flock with the way he’s watching you so attentively, his eyes flitting across your face quickly.

“i didn’t go too far, did i?” beomgyu’s voice is almost nervous, low and quiet in your ear as he strokes the side of your face. you crack a small smile at how cute he looks, reaching up to brush some of the hair out of his eyes.

“no, not at all. i liked it,” you reassure, your fingers trailing down his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. he visibly melts into your touch at the words, shoulders slumping in relief.

“thank god,” he breathes out, slumping on top of you—you half-heartedly protest, but the weight is nice, loving the way it feels to have his chest rise and fall against yours, his head resting in the crook your neck. you wrap your arms around him with a little giggle, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“you big baby,” you tease. he’s completely unbothered, though, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder before settling against you again.

“only around you.”

the quiet is relaxing, hearing the calm waves of the beach down the hill and the slight buzz of the air conditioner. as much as your brain wants to believe that you imagined it, his words from a few moments ago ring like a mantra in your head. words that make your chest tight, and your mind spin, and your stomach flutter. having him in your arms like this makes you sure that what you heard wasn’t made up in your mind.

“you said you love me.”

a beat of silence.

“hm?” he hums inquisitively as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.

“when you, um—when you… came…” you whisper the last part, feeling the vibrations of beomgyu’s laugh fill your own chest.

“you’re still shy after all of that?” beomgyu asks incredulously as he lifts his head to look at you. a tiny, playful smile sits on his lips and you pout, nudging him softly.

“stop changing the topic!” beomgyu laughs again as he relaxes back into your hold.

“okay, i did say i love you. because i do. i love you.”

the words hit you deeper this time, now that your mind is clear—he sounds so sure of himself, and the confidence seeps into you, confirming your own feelings that have been threatening to spill over these last few days.

“i love you too.” you pause for a second. “ like, love love you.”

beomgyu chuckles against your skin, his arms tightening around your frame as he nuzzles in closer to you, despite already being skin to skin. he’s cute, you think.

“i’d hope ‘love love’ is what we’re talking about right now,” he speaks almost sarcastically and you lightly tug his hair for being a smartass—you get the opposite reaction you were searching for though because beomgyu dramatically moans at the action just to rile you up even more.

“oh my god, you’re insufferable,” you huff, but the smile on your face is telling enough as he lifts his head once again to meet your eyes—his hair is all messy and strewn about, lips bitten red and raw, cheeks flushed; and that fact that you’re in love with your best friend full sinks in. he’s everything to you.

“but you love me.”

you sigh.

“yea. i do.”

a blinding smile breaks out on beomgyu’s lips as he leans in to peck yours a few times, your body melting as he kisses you with so many emotions, it makes your heart get caught in your throat, your skin buzzing with contentment.

he pulls away, sitting up to climb off the bed, searching for his sweatpants.

“come on. time for me to do my husband duties and run you a bath.”

“you’re still comitting to this, huh?” you giggle as you sit up too, watching his figure retreat towards the bathroom. beomgyu turns slightly, the smile on his lips absolutely menacing.

“so? i gotta practice for the future.”

your future, you brain tells you.

and that idea isn't so bad, you think.

reblogs and feedback are highly cherished!

tags! @grayscorner @banggyu0308 @huckleberrykai @agustdiv1ne @yunhorights @nes-caf @1921choi

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#txt #txt imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #txt x reader #txt x y/n #beomgyu imagines #beom-pyu #beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu hard hours

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grandline-fics · 8 days

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Hi can i request a Luffy x fem!reader where the pair are just two dumb idiots together like the reader has a personality like his (overly enthusiastic and optimistic) and they do everything together but they both dont realize that the like eachither (bc again dumb idiots) and the crew works tgt to make them both realize and get them to confess to eachother?

DESCRIPTION: You’re just as clueless as Luffy and the crew have to intervene to make you both realise your feelings

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,734

A/N: Thank you for this request. I honestly didn't know how to make this work in the beginning but I'm happy with how this fell into place. Hopefully you like what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Once upon a time the Strawhat crew believed that their Captain was one of a kind. They took his energetic nature, clear motivation to only do what he wanted as his current mood directed without any thought beyond that, stubbornness, and still unwavering joy in the face of most things as the concoction that could only be Luffy. However they were all collectively shocked when you crash landed into their lives and promptly made them realise that everything that made Luffy his loveable yet exhausting self was also very clearly what made you you too and when you and Luffy first interacted it was like two points finally connecting, never to separate.

All their adventures before you came along seemed like such a breeze, how naive they had been in those days to consider it difficult to keep up with Luffy’s optimism and spontaneity. After you joined the crew if felt like double the work. It didn’t matter if they had eyes on one of the chaotic pair you two created because without the vigilant supervision over both of you, it only assured a disaster that could have been avoided. It never mattered to you or Luffy because at the end of the day you two would be laughing and telling the drained crew that it had worked out in the end and that there had been nothing to worry about. After a while it wasn’t the lack of thought to the crew and their wants of an easy time on an island to explore that frustrated them, it was the fact that you and Luffy still hadn’t realised you had feelings for each other and continued to act like oblivious morons every single day while also so clearly showing them and anyone else you interacted that you were two idiots in love.

“They’re doing it on purpose.” Nami muttered one day, arms folded tightly across her chest as she glared at you and Luffy running about the deck of the Sunny, laughing and chasing Chopper without a care in the world. Suddenly Luffy grabbed one of the masts and propelled himself through the air. Chopped managed to dodge but you ended up being the one Luffy tackled loudly onto the ground. There was a beat of silence before the two of you burst out into loud laughter once more, doing nothing to move out of the position you were currently in. “They have to be doing it on purpose. They’re evil geniuses.”

“Don’t give them so much credit. They’re both just blind to how they really feel.” Zoro disagreed from his spot in the shade, opening his good eye to look you and Luffy’s way. “Don’t know how many times the stupid cook and I have brought it up. Luffy just believes he loves them the same way he loves us as his crew.”

“Oh no, that’s a very different kind of love compared to what he feels for us.” Usopp said with a small shake of his head. He supposed that the only reason this whole matter hadn’t been resolved yet was because of your personality. Anyone else would have been more aware of the difference and clear feelings and actually talked things out with their Captain. Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of exhaustion and resignation. All of them wishing-more for their own selfish peace of mind more than anything- there was something to be done and help you both realise your feelings.

It wasn’t until a week later that the crew stopped at a new island to relax and enjoy while they waited for the Log Pose to set. While some took to resupplying the ships, others took to exploring. You weren’t exactly annoyed that you hadn’t gone with Luffy, you were just confused at why Usopp and Nami insisted on you joining them on their shopping trip and no one else coming with them. Had they had a fight with some of the others on the crew that you weren’t aware of? You certainly hoped not, you didn’t like the crew fighting amongst themselves.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Nami whispered to Usopp as they remained a couple paces away from you. Operation: Divide and Conquer might have had a good name but the strategy didn’t seem all that good except try and get you to confess to Luffy by either making you jealous or straight up lying. If they couldn’t get through to you, they would try the same tactic with Luffy.

“It has to!” Usopp hissed back, quickly throwing you a nervous smile when you looked over your shoulder with a curious tilt of your shoulder. “Hey let’s go in here!” He called out in a panic, pointing to the closest store. You stopped and shrugged, going along with whatever the sniper wanted. You had nothing to buy on this trip so you were just here for company and fun. Still this wasn’t what you’d thought would be on his or Name’s shopping list.

“Is someone getting married?” You asked, looking around the store filled with elegant gowns, robes and suits. Suddenly your eyes lit up as you hurried to hug Nami and Usopp tightly, so this was why they had insisted on you coming with them. You couldn’t fully understand why they were being so secretive but it didn’t matter given how overcome with happiness for them. “You guys! I’m so happy for you both! Have you told the others?! Are you getting married on the island?”

“WHAT?! NO! ” Nami blurted out in shock while Usopp could only shriek at the implication. “We’re not getting married!”

“Oh…that’s a shame.” Your smile fell slightly. “I always thought you two made a nice couple. Guess I was wrong. So who is getting married?” You asked, staring intently on your friends who stammered and struggled to think of something. Operation: Divide and Conquer was crashing and burning around them and their brains all but blanked as together they rambled together while you patiently listened. Neither of them really knew what they’d told you or knew if it made any sort of sense but you seemed to accept it and continued with your day with the frazzled pair.

When you returned to the Sunny later that day you went to your usual perch of the railing near Sunny’s head. Silently you thought over what Usopp and Nami told you and were beginning to work it out in your head when Luffy appeared beside you with a bright grin. “Hey, what’s got you so frustrated looking?” He asked, oblivious to the rest of the crew on the deck; all of them pretending to go about their business when they were only making sure they were close enough to hear.

“I’m thinking about Usopp.” You explained in a dazed tone, absently running your fingers along your bottom lip, deep in thought. Luffy frowned slightly while different sets of eyes glanced Usopp’s way, all confused about what he and Nami did while they were alone with you. “I’m trying to work out this wedding.”

“Usopp’s getting married?” Luffy asked. On the one hand he was happy but on the other hand he thought Usopp would have told him personally. “To who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to work out.” You mumbled before taking a deep breath, deciding to start from the beginning. “Usopp’s enemy wants him to marry their princess to avoid a great battle but he doesn’t want a fight or to get married so he needs to make them think he’s already married so they don’t get angry right? He needs Sanji to cater the wedding, Brook to preform the music, and Zoro to be his bodyguard so they’re out. Nami said because she’s giving Usopp the money for the wedding that’s the only favour she’s doing and won’t marry him as well because that’s not fair. Usopp said he can’t marry Franky or Robin because they’re like his parents and Chopper’s a reindeer and that’s weird. Which leaves us.”

The more you explained the situation the more Usopp and Nami shrank towards the floor out of despair and embarrassment. Why had you believed that nonsense enough to now relay it to the entire crew who were now looking at them in bafflement. Through it all Luffy hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. He didn’t want Usopp to be forced to be married to someone he didn’t like but it didn’t stop him from quickly turning on his heel and looking to his friend. “Usopp I’ll marry you!”

“You can’t marry me dumbass!” Usopp shouted back making Luffy glare, all but standing in front of you to block you from Usopp’s stare.

“Well you’re not allowed to marry them. So it’s me or the princess.” Luffy told him with defiance in his eyes.

“Why can’t he marry me?” You asked curiously while getting to your feet, watching Luffy blink as he only now considered his fierce sense of protectiveness and possessiveness towards you.

“Because I don’t want him to?” He suggested with a shrug. “I don’t want you to marry him, I don’t like it.”

“Well I don’t like you being married to Usopp.” You added, voicing your own reluctance and unhappiness at the thought of Luffy marrying…well anyone. There was a silent exchange between you and Luffy as though you were communicating in your own way through a look alone. Together you both grinned with a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you both whipped your head towards Usopp and declared in unison. “Usopp you’re marrying the princess.”

While it hadn’t been the grand romantic epiphany the crew had been expecting to witness, they could tell that a shift between you both had occurred. There was something a little more intimate between you both while you both remained your happy, energetic selves. No one on the crew had the heart to tell either of you that Usopp had been completely lying about the arranged marriage so they never mentioned it again. They were however all in agreement that if it ever was brought up it was to be brushed aside and explained as a story Usopp had been thinking of writing and nothing more. But from the looks of things slowly developing between you and Luffy they could all see that it was shaping up to having a happily ever after.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #luffy x you #luffy x reader #one piece x you #one piece fic #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy one piece #luffy op #mugiwara no luffy #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader

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jackhues · 6 months

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Now I can’t get Luke’s friends flirting with youngest!hughes out of my head… like I know me and my older brother fight all the time but the second one of his friends flirts all my brothers are ready to throw hands

ohh, i love this!! using ethan edwards and luke as the brother and bestie (should i make this a new au?)

you pulled a chair from the dining room, using it to climb up onto the table.

gripping the top of the fridge for support, you leaned over to grab a pack of pasta and a can of pasta sauce.

"don't fall, sweet cheeks."

ethan's voice caused to jump, nearly banging your head on the cupboard and almost dropping the pasta.

"ethan, you asshole," you muttered. "can't you see i'm in a dangerous position? stop being annoying."

"stop calling her sweet cheeks," luke added. "that's gross."

you rolled your eyes at the two boys' banter, climbing down from the countertop.

"here, let me help," ethan held out a hand, helping you climb off the counter, before putting away the chair you grabbed earlier.

"thank you, eddy," you smiled, before glaring at your brother. "unlike some people, those related to me by blood, you helped me out."

"anytime, sweets."

"okay, that's enough," luke said, quickly stepping in between you two. "none of that. not in here. y/n, leave the kitchen."

"what? no," you held up the packet of pasta. "i'm making my dinner. you leave."

"but-"

"you're the one who has a problem with ethan and i-"

"ethan and you?" jack repeated, entering the kitchen, pointing between the two of you. "is that a thing?"

"it's not-"

"-oh it's definitely a thing," ethan said, putting a hand over your shoulder.

"stop that, stop that," luke walked between the two of you, dragging a laughing ethan out of the room.

jack glared at him, following the duo to try and 'intimidate' ethan.

it wouldn't make a difference. ethan had been around too long, he was immune to their threats.

"are you making pasta?" quinn asked, entering the kitchen, shaking you out of your thoughts.

you nodded.

"okay cool. make me some."

"no."

"i want the sauce mixed with the pasta, not poured on top."

"do you want cheese too?"

"obviously," quinn said. he motioned to the door that luke and jack dragged ethan out of. "what's going on with those three?"

"ethan was being nice to me, and luke thought it was flirting, so the two dumb butts are trying to intimidate him," you summarized. "they're so stupid."

quinn nodded slowly, "on an unrelated note, i'll be back."

you watched him head towards the boys, sighing to yourself.

idiots, they were all idiots.

#hughes!sister #youngest!hughes sister #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #platonic!reader #platonic #hockey imagine #ethan edwards

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heartpascal · 1 year

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FATHER FIGURE JOEL, I’M LOVING IT. Can you make some comfort from father figure joel, pleaseeee???

so far from it

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you get into some trouble, luckily, you know who to call for help.

▹— a/n: aghhh i don’t like it!! but gotta give yall something while you wait for the part two’s! ALSO IM SORRY THIS ISNT AS MUCH COMFORT AS I MEANT FOR IT TO BE

▹— warnings: father figure joel, violence, blood, swearing, reader gets attacked, needles, stitches, a smidge of comfort at the end

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Ever since you had joined Tess and Joel’s operation, things had been going pretty smoothly. Though they had argued on multiple occasions over your age, having various disagreements over your capability in this job, you had proven yourself time and time again.

It didn’t faze you. Nothing did, really. You could shoot an Infected point blank in the head without batting an eye, could dig through dirt and muck to find supplies you needed, could travel for hours upon end and Joel and Tess wouldn’t hear a peep coming from you.

That was life in the apocalypse, you supposed, the complete lack of any remorse for what could’ve been had you just been born a few decades earlier. This was your life.

Sometimes, it was a life you didn’t particularly want, but you continued, especially after working with the adult duo for so long, it had become increasingly clear that they needed you. You could get into places they couldn’t, your small size allowing those tight squeezes, and the strength in your arms helped towards moving things away from blocked entrances.

In return for your services, Tess had formed an agreement with Joel, that you could stay at their apartment with them, sprawled over their couch, and they’d provide you the ration cards you needed to survive. A roof over your head and food was more than generous, and you had known even back then that you’d be an idiot not to take it.

Especially when considering the power that Tess wielded in the QZ, with a network of informants spreading all throughout it, and with Joel, you knew nobody would dare look to steal from you. Everybody who was anybody in the QZ knew what the two of them were capable of, and considering your affiliation with them, you were sure nobody would even attempt to come for you.

You had prided yourself on being smart for a very long time, smart enough to survive in this world, smart enough to escape FEDRA school despite having no parents, smart enough to team up with adults who held some sort of power. You had never considered that that pride would be a bad thing.

But today, whilst out with Joel and Tess, you had decided to head a little further away from them than you would usually go, determined to use your ration cards for something you wanted. It was stupid, really. You wanted a dumb book, and thought your smarts were enough to trade the dealer for it, thought you were smart enough to avoid any tricks or cheats.

You knew there was something very wrong when two men stood behind you, one leering over your shoulder as you looked down at the object of your desires, and you repressed the urge to turn your head towards him.

Instead, you kept your eyes to the table, and shoved your hands in your pockets, one going to grip on to your ration cards, the other holding the handle of the knife Tess had given you.

It was when the seller nodded at the two of them that you knew you were fucked.

Trying to pull the knife out backfired, and the blade ripped your coat as the man on your right grabbed your arm, twisting until you felt your grip involuntarily weaken, and then the seller snatched it from your hand. The man on your left grasped your other arm, squeezing so tight you felt the bruises forming beneath his hand already.

It didn’t take a genius to realise you were in some deep shit, especially after being disarmed so quickly, and so you did the first thing that came to your mind.

“Joel! Joel, help—” Your yells were cut off by the left man slapping his hand over your mouth, and you bit his fingers, spitting as he hissed and pulled his hand away. You struggled, opening your mouth once more, but you were stopped before you could even begin again, as the right man grabbed your head, slamming it into the rickety table below.

Your vision swam, and you could only just register being pulled away from the street, down an alley nearby. Your ears were ringing, like they did when you fired your gun, and you weakly tried to reach up and hold your head, stopped by the hands grasping onto your arms even now.

The duo dropped you to the floor, and you just about managed to put your arms out to stop a second blow to the head, that would most likely have ended in a concussion.

Hands digging into your pockets were the next thing you became aware of, and your attempts of pushing them away went pretty much unnoticed.

“Fuck you, man.” You spat out, your voice garbled as you realised your mouth was filled with blood, and you could feel it oozing out of your lip and cheek. The metallic taste was disgusting, and it made you feel sick.

The two men pulled you to sit up against the brick wall, and you spat at the one you recognised to be righty, a glob of bloody spit landing on his knee as he crouched beside you.

“This fucking bitch,” He began, but was cut off by lefty, who shook the man’s shoulder with a sense of urgency as he looked towards the end of the alley.

You drew your gaze in that direction with some effort, and felt a grin light up your face. “Oh, you’re so fucked.” You laughed, blood still dripping from your mouth, and even the dizziness that overcame you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as the two men realised they’d dragged you into a dead end, and their only way out was blocked.

The fighting was a blur, if you were honest, the adrenaline leaving you as your body recognised that you were safe, Joel was here. It was only when his face was looming in front of you that your awareness came back, blood still pooling under your tongue.

“Shit, c’mon, kid. Let’s get you home.” Joel murmured, hands placed on your cheeks as he looked at your head injury, a wince on his own expression. Your head lolled, about to fall towards your chest if Joel hadn’t been holding it up, the weight feeling impossible all of a sudden.

You tried to help them stand you up, Tess having arrived at some point during the commotion, but you were likely more of a hindrance than a help. With an arm over either of their shoulders, you stumbled your way out of the alley, the FEDRA guard across the way turning his head to look away from the three of you.

You couldn’t remember much of the journey back to the apartment, which was probably good for your pride, as you could imagine it wasn’t easy. You probably looked like an idiot, unable to keep your own head up half the time, but Joel and Tess got you back safely, which you had never doubted.

“Concussion?” Joel asked Tess, after the two of them had settled you down on the couch, your neck resting against the arm of it, holding the weight of your head up for you.

“Let’s hope not,” Tess replied, handing Joel the bottle of alcohol and the rag that was left on the counter for times just like these. “I’m going back out, gonna go find those pricks and see what the fuck they were doing.” She announced, shouldering her backpack once again and frowning at you, before she turned and made her way out.

You could almost see the anger rolling off of Joel, the one emotion he never bothered to shy away from, and even as he tried to be careful, you still cringed and pulled away from the rag he was attempting to disinfect your injuries with.

“Sorry, kid, it’s gotta be done.” He grumbled, sounding the slightest bit sorry, and pressed the rag against your forehead, wiping away the blood that was still weeping from there.

You sighed, the taste of your own blood still lingering in your throat, but the wounds in your mouth had stopped flowing now. You couldn’t recall spitting out the rest of the blood, but you figured it must’ve happened on the journey back.

“Got me pretty good, huh?” You asked, your words slurring even though you were thinking of them with no problem, and you blinked your eyes shut in annoyance.

“Could’ve been worse.” Joel muttered, his hands moving your face to check it over for any further injuries. You could feel your eye and eyebrow swelling up now, and frowned at the sensation.

You should have never gone to buy that stupid book. It wasn’t smart, and you were always smart, so you couldn’t quite understand what had happened. That was childish, you realised, the feeling dawning on you suddenly, the shame, the embarrassment.

That was one thing you had always made sure to deny yourself of, those childish feelings, the spontaneous decisions that came with naivety, those were things that you couldn’t risk in the apocalypse. You couldn’t afford to — clearly, you had gotten too comfortable here, the impending doom that came with living in a world like this had started to feel far away, with Tess and Joel at your side.

It was embarrassing, having shown such a weakness, and for a moment you were worried it was going to cost you everything, but Joel finally returned to your side, having been to put away the alcohol and rag he’d used to disinfect your injuries. He was quiet for a few moments, and then started pulling something out of his backpack, the crease between his eyebrows deep.

You looked over at him, your brows drawing together when you saw the book he’d pulled from his pack, the blade of your knife stuck between the pages like some kind of violent bookmark.

The two of them were far too observant, and you swallowed nervously, frown growing deeper as you looked away from the book you had wanted so badly. That part of you, the childish part, the one that got you into this mess in the first place, wanted to reach out and pull the book from his hands, but you pushed that desire away like you should’ve done to start with.

“What? This not what you were after?” Joel asked gruffly, something like confusion catching in his tone.

“It was stupid,” You said in response, feeling anger warm your chest the longer you thought about the whole thing. From here on out, you were never gonna give in to such childish wants. “I was stupid.”

Your admission seemed to surprise Joel, if the way his eyebrows raised told you anything. He remained in silence for a few moments more, before he put the book down on the table to the side, and turned back to you. “You weren’t stupid,” Joel denied, about to continue before you cut him off.

“I was!” You said loudly, the words the clearest of any you’d said since getting back to the apartment, and you blinked away tears, blaming the head injury for making you more emotional. “I didn’t think. I put myself in danger because— because of what? A damn book? How childish is that—”

“You are a child.” Joel said, stopping you before you could continue your rant, your words getting more intelligible as you went on. You stared at him, the tears filling your eyes once more, and he carried on at your expression, “That’s not a bad thing. You’re allowed to want things.”

“I want to stay with you.” You told him, voice shaking and watery, “I don’t wanna have to leave because I act like a kid.”

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere, kid.” He spoke firmly, and with a bit of a hesitation, he reached out, moving the hair on your head away from the cut that had started to bleed once again. “Swear it. We’re gonna sort those guys out, and nobody’s ever gonna come after you again.”

You nodded, feeling the slightest bit relieved at his words, though no less ashamed of yourself.

“Alright?” You nodded once again, “Good. I’m sorry for this, kid, but that’s gonna need stitches.”

Your face fell, and he sighed through his nose, understanding your pain. He held the suture kit in his hand, and you realised he must’ve gotten it when he put the alcohol away earlier on.

He grabbed your hand, squeezing slightly, and kept his grasp on you when he started stitching, letting you grip on to him tightly each time he pushed the needle through your skin. “I hate getting stitches.” You murmured, when he was finally done, letting him take his hand back to put the suture kit away.

“I know.” He acknowledged, and ruffled your hair as he stood up. “Sit up.”

You did as he told you, swinging your legs so you were sat only on one side of the couch, and you furrowed your brows as Joel got comfortable on the other side. You finally realised what he was doing when you watched him reach over to the rickety wooden table and grab the book he’d taken from the seller.

“C’mon, let’s see what this fuss is about.” Joel grumbled, pulling the knife out of the pages and handing it to you, making you smile lightly even despite the pounding of your head.

“Thanks, Joel.” You told him, eyes still watery.

“S’alright.” He responded, letting you settle at his side as he looked through the book that had caught your attention. “Puns, really?”

You laughed at his less than pleased reaction, setting your head against his arm as you looked at the jokes in the book, laughing to yourself over some of them.

He just shook his head, pushing down the smile that wanted to rise to his lips as he listened to you laughing.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #tlou angst #tlou fluff #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal one shot #joel miller x platonic!reader

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