#so now I finally know where this guy comes from lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshigray · 7 months

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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”

“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh.

A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year.

But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.

Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement…

“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”

And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?”

That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive.

“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.

However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer.

Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”

No words, only tapping keys.

“Y/n?”

The keys become louder.

“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?”

Louder.

“Y/n!!”

A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.

The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”

You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.

“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”

“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”

You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?”

“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”

You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”

“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.”

You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…

After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry.

“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty.

“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?”

“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”

“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…

Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”

“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”

The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.

“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.

"I know you are."

"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.”

No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”

“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”

“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”

You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.

“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“

“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”

“…….Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“

“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”

Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”

“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”

Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye.

You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets. Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.

….Three Hours Later….

The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed.

Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up.

The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.

What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.

Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!

Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.”

A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”

“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.”

Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further.

“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”

He? Wait, wait, we??

The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.

“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?”

You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”

It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.”

You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?”

The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?

“…Yes, I do.”

“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”

Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”

He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.”

The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”

“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.

“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”

You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”

Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.”

“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.”

So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life!

You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!

“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.”

Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!

“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”

“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.”

Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!”

Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.

“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going.

As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.

So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night.

Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can.

“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”

You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck.

Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you.

“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished.

He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like.

Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”

“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…

He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.”

Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt.

It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”

“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock.

And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!

“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment.

Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”

When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!

“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!

…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.”

With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time.

It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!

“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”

Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.

“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”

You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…

Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?

You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.

A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body.

And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.

Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡

Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?

Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened.

You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…

However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents.

And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.

Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.

SR + TF

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

11K notes · View notes

star-sim · 4 months

Text

"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha hyungs

☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen hyung line x fem! reader ☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience. ☆ genre: fluff, jealous and whipped boys... kinda dumb lol ☆ warning(s)? no! just fluff!! and attempts at humor :( ☆ reblogs and comments are appreciated :D also not proofread lol

maknae ver.

heeseung ☆

i like to think that hee would be a gaming youtuber

posts maybe like once or twice a week, has about 3 million subs

he sometimes likes to stream, just to get to know his fanbase better and to just hang out

normally he texts you to let you know abt it, but today he totally forgot

you came home from work and you saw his office door closed + heard the sound of his loud ass keyboard clicking.... my guy beats that shit UP atp

that was normal tbh

you were probably like "my little keyboard warrior ❤️" and went to go wash up in your shared bathroom and bedroom

you were going to just pop into his office, say hi and maybe give him a kiss

meanwhile... heeseung is taking a break from gaming, just talking to the chat

he definitely didn't notice you coming home... probably bc of that bigass head set that's creating a fucking valley in his skull... (btw have u seen those videos where gamers take off their headphones and they have a dent on their head 😭)

anyways you open the door, ready to say hi, but heeseung is visibly surprised, looking like a deer in headlights

you look at him, then at the back of his monitor, then back at him, then at his monitor

"should i come back another time...?"

hee's already taking off his headphones, leaning back into his gaming chair--

"no no no!" he grins, glancing at the chat, which is now blowing up

"who is that?"

"yooooo"

"HEESEUNG IS THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?"

"gf reveal?"

"she sounds so pretty"

heeseung pats his lap, "cmere, baby, i wanna introduce you to the stream"

of course you comply <3

you take a seat on his lap, his arms slithering around your waist

it takes you a moment to take in what's on his screen: obv there's your reflections, then the chat boxes and announcement pop-ups

the way that the blue-purple light of his screen reflects onto your skin, casting a glassy gleam over your eyes-- and the way that your pretty eyes look at the monitor so curiously, lips parted ever-so-slightly-- made you look SO beautiful

heeseung himself has to angle his head in a way so that he could see your face properly.... and a soft grin unknowingly began to spread over his lips

he presses a soft kiss to the crook behind your ear, before looking back up at the stream

"hey guys," there's a clear smile in his voice, "this is my girlfriend, [name]."

you take that as your queue to introduce yourself

honestly, you're a little shy and softer-spoken now, bc you're not in front of a camera nearly as often as your boyfriend is, "hi.. i'm [name], and... uhm..." you give the webcam a clumsy, awkward (but very cute) smile, "i'm hee's girlfriend"

the chat blows up immediately

"SHE'S SO CUTE"

"i've never seen heeseung look so soft"

"[name] you're so pretty :)"

"this might actually be one of the most beautiful women i've ever seen im not joking guys"

"chat is she real... bc why is she actually GLOWING oh my lord🧎🧎🧎"

those comments make you a lil shy and bashful, and you feel your cheeks kinda warm

you just giggle reading them, unable to contain your smile

heeseung, on the other hand, is feeling prideful

"that's right, guys," he squeezes your waist, puffing his chest out, "my girlfriend is so beautiful" "i know i'm so lucky to have such a wonderful woman as my girlfriend"

he's overjoyed by all the compliments you're getting... it makes him so happy that he can show you off and that everyone gets to see that YOURE his gf

in fact, he's reading a lot of them aloud, and following it up with "i agree with you"

like he'll read "'[name] is absolutely stunning, like wow..." and heeseung nods and is like "i agree with you, xXdragontittysucker23Xx 🤓☝️"

but then a comment stops him in his tracks...

"heeseung is your girlfriend single by any chance?"

his face drops immediately

"hey... who in the chat asked if [name] is single?!"

he's actually offended, putting a dramatic hand on his chest and scoffing

"how rude!" heeseung pouts against your shoulder when even more of his viewers begin saying similar things

"[name] are you free this weekend"

"hi [name] (i'm 6'2 and drive a lamborghini and save orphans every weekend)"

"heeseung get out i'm trying to have a moment with your girlfriend"

you're actually such a cutie, becuase you're just giggling as more and more comments come trying to rizz you up

"what do you have to say for yourself?" heeseung asks you half-sulkily and half-defensive, pushing his face into your neck and pouting

your eyes glimmer with a little mischief, wanting to tease your boyfriend a little bit

"i mean... " you pretend to think

and then someone named jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 says in chat "please [name] i'll rock your world so hard just one chance"

you laugh

"jungkooksleftpinkytoe562, i'm free tomorrow at 5, you should take me out on a date" and you wink playfully and laugh again

chat blows up like

"WOAHHHH"

"AYOOO????"

but if there's anyone that's scandalized, it's heeseung lee himself

"HEY! HEY! WHAT?!!?!" he's squinting and scrolling so fast in the chat to find jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 that you can hear the scroll-wheel oh my god

"you guys better back off," heeseung says, pulling you even closer. he presses a kiss against your shoulder, then gently clutching your face to kiss your chin, "she's mine!"

heeseung's eyes narrow, "especially you, jungkooksleftpinkytoe562..." your bf gives you a quick peck on the lips, "i'll kick your ass if i see you flirting w my girlfriend again >:("

im gonna be fr... none of his viewers care

in fact they keep flirting with you

and the fact that you keep playfully flirting back adds fuel to heeseung's flames

but he'd never blame you <3

he's pouty after the stream lol (but he knows it's all in good fun) so kiss his cute lil pouty lips

i think this definitely goes viral on twitter

like #[name] or #heesgf trends for a good 48 hours

jay ☆

my guy is a cooking channel

i think jay would try to be more private abt his personal life to his viewers, just given the nature of his content

though, it's no secret that jay has a s/o to his viewers, and i think they'd know your name

but yk how at the end of cooking videos, after the chef cooks, they try the food...

i think in a few of his videos, there's clips of you and him trying his food, but while jay is usually in-frame, you're either behind the camera or just barely in the frame so that most people have really only heard your voice and seen your hands

the comments are usually tame, like

"[name]'s voice is so pretty!"

"i want someone to look at me the way jay looks at [name]"

"my parents!"

but one day

for one of his subscriber milestone specials

let's say 2million subscriber special

jay does a cooking challenge

it's "cooking a meal but BLINDFOLDED"

he starts the video explaining the parameters of the challenge and what he's doing, etc

but then he reveals that you're behind the camera to supervise him

obv bc he's in a kitchen with ovens and knives and he's blindfolded...

throughout the video, you kind of just guide your bf

"omg jay move your hand or you'll cut your fingers off!"

"turn on the stove-- no the other way!!"

at some point, jay is cutting up onions

and normally he's a pro at it, and you never question his abilities

but because he can't see and he's using the knife so quickly, you're freaked out like "babe!!!!!! that doesn't seem safe!!! 😰😰😰"

so then behind the camera, you're heard fussing about it and it's cute lol

then you take it upon yourself to help him

you go behind him, slithering your arms around him so that your hands were places on his

you guide his hands to cut the onions slowly

"babe, i got this," jay says, but tbh he's not complaining because he gets to be close to you :D

"nonono i don't want you to die!!" you say, and it seems like you're more concentrated on cutting the onions than him

this is the first time that your face is in-frame for one of his videos lol

when you're done, jay tries to kiss your head, but he can't find you so you raise yourself on your tippy toes for him

its a quick peck but you giggle and place a kiss behind his ear

when he's done cooking his little dish, it's time to garnish and decorate it with sauce

jay's plan is to use the sauce to write "happy 2 million subscribers" on the dish

but because he's blindfolded, the writing is so fucked up

it's completely unintelligable and just a glob of sauce 😭

and then he tries to draw a dick on it but it's also super fucked 😭😭😭😭

when you see this, you burst out laughing so hard

and this makes jay laugh too

anyways the video goes up, it's very cute and well-received

now.... the youtube comments are still tame

"[name]'s laugh is so cute!"

"i screamed when she popped into frame... she's gorg"

"the way that [name] looks at jay when he's blindfolded is everything"

"[name] looks so beautiful"

but uh

it gets crazy on twitter

as it always does

"jesus fucking christ if a woman like that wrapped her arms around me and kissed me i would fall to my knees and die happily"

"jay CANNOT handle allat.... but i can!!!! me next!!"

"god... when is it my turn to have a pretty woman kiss me"

"[name] i'll treat you so well PLEASE"

i think the clip of you helping jay cut the onions kinda goes viral, just because you look so attractive doing it

like the way you popped into frame as you rolled up your sleeves and the way you smirked at jay's inability to see... ZOOWEE MAMA!!!!!

and i think this eventually makes its way onto tiktok

like pretty standard videos of ppl being like "JAY'S GIRLFRIEND HELLO???" with comments like "she's so beautiful," etc

jay honestly thinks its funny

he knows that people are joking and he sometimes actually plays along with them

he loves that people are appreciating your beauty (but he loves even more that he's the only one that actually gets you)

when you first go viral, you're kinda shy about it, but jay just pulls you close, kisses your cheek, squishing them, and says "my baby is so beautiful"

youre like "jayyyyyy stoopppp"

he only chuckles and starts to pepper your face with more kisses, despite your lil whines for him to stop

but then while you two are cuddling one night, you laying on his chest with your face in his neck

a tiktok appears on his fyp

its just some teenager being like "hi does anyone know if jay's girlfriend is single?" while showing off a black BMW in the background... and then jay's directly tagged in it

he takes this as his opportunity to strike back

he stitches that tiktok, and makes his own tiktok in response

it's just a really short video where jay shows you all snuggled up against him completely silent before he just says "No, she is not single. 😐."

the caption's like "i'm taking [name] out on a date tomorrow shhh don't tell her"

everyone thinks it's really sweet tbh

jake ☆

truthfully i think jake would be into youtube commentary

something like danny gonzalez or jarvis johnson

he looks at troom troom videos and makes fun of them lowk 😭

speaking of, troom troom or troom troom - adjacent content usually has crazy ass lifehacks

so for one of his videos jake is testing out troom troom life hacks

and for one of them, he has to drill a hole in a skateboard or something and put pasta noodles in it idk i'm pulling this out of my ass but its not surprising if this is a legitimate troom troom life hack

unlike heeseung and jay, jake's viewerbase doesn't rlly know about you

again, given the nature of his content, jake never rlly found it necessary to mention his personal relationships

anyways jake is in the middle of your living room floor drilling a hole into a skateboard and putting spaghettie in it when you come home from work and see that shit

jake is in the middle of talking to the camera but the moment the door cracks open he trails off

he gives you that smile-- the one that a puppy gives when their owner catches them doing something they shouldnt aw

when you take in the sight before you, you let out a laugh, not noticing the camera rolling

you place your things down and slink toward your boyfriend

"what's going on here, jakey?" you ask him with a cocked brow, loving the way he chuckles nervously

you crouch down beside him, poking the skateboard-spaghetti abomination with your foot

"i'm testing out troom troom life hacks" he sounds defeated lol

anyways you give him a kiss on his cheek and leave him to his own devices

in the final video, your little interruption is only like 15 seconds bc jake cut it down-- but he def keeps the part where you kiss him

HOWEVER.

because jake's audience didn't know he had a girlfriend

they were all like WOAH WHO IS THAT GORGEOUS WOMAN

a few of his fans look at who he's following on instagram, and they find your account

your ig is public, but it's definitely small and personal

they find pictures of you and jake doing cute couple things, a lot of mirror selfies, matching costumes, and cute pictures that you take of jake

but...

they also find your own personal pictures

ones of you in a bikini at the beach, ones of you with the golden sun on your face, ones showing off your outfit and hair, ones of you in the morning, ones of you being a baddie

and lets not mention jake in the ig comment sections hyping you up like a teenage boy like "YOURE SO HOT [NAME] 🔥🔥🔥🔥"

jake and you see all the comments and tweets about you

so jake decides to take it upon himself to clarify everything

he posts a picture on instagram of you and him with the caption "yes, that's my girlfriend"

safe to say that it becomes his top post LMAOAAO

his ig comments are flooded with support

"you guys are so cute"

"i'm glad to see jake have someone that he loves"

etc

YOUR ig comment section on the other hand?

flooded with support

and thirst

HELP

his fans are respectful but they REALLY love to compliment you

"woahhh you look so good in this one!"

"gorgeous 😍"

"[name] will you marry me?"

but i do think a few are outright insane omg

"[name] you're my sunshine in the ran, the tylenol when i'm in pain, when it's burning hot on summer days you're exactly what i need"

i think they pull out poetic shit omg

like shit like

"the memory of you is a tapestry I had decided to wrap myself in until it suffocated me, to such extent that in the morning, people will not find my body, but a new silhouette woven within its threads"

"there is a city in my heart where you are its only population"

"if i could remake universe, i would replace you as the moon amongst the stars after your time, so i may gaze upon you every night"

jake is NEVER escaping

you appreciate the hype

but jakey?

he loves that you're being appreciate but YOU'RE HIS

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE AND WHY DO THEY THINK THEY HAVE A CHANCE W U

"jakey they're just being nice"

"no they're trying to STEAL YOU"

like a day later he posts a picture of you on his instagram with the caption "she's mine btw"

his comments DO NOT CARE 😭😭😭

when someone comments

"jake is your gf single and can i take her out on a date"

jake straight up responds

"NO."

what a cutie

sunghoon ☆

i actually don't think sunghoon would be a YOUTUBER youtuber

instead i think he'd be a famous ice skater, but he has YOUTUBE interviews and is active on social media

definitely the type of athlete that's very personable

like sunghoon is def in touch with his fanbase and interacts with them on twt and stuff

his fanbase knows that he has a gf, but that's basically the limit

anyways sunghoon is doing one of those "WIRED answered the web's most searched questions"

you're actually in the studio with him during the interview, kinda there for support

the questions are tame like

"sunghoon park height" "sunghoon park winter olympics 2018" "where was sunghoon park born" etc

sunghoon's killing it

until one of the last questions on the board is "does sunghoon park have a girlfriend?"

he immediately lights up

"i do have a girlfriend!" he says, looking off-set at you, "her name's [name] and she's the most beautiful woman i've ever met"

you chuckle quietly at his comment, flashing him a pretty smile

sunghoon continues- "she's actually here with me today" and he points to you, making the cameraman pan over to you, who is sitting off the set

you just give the camera a thumbs up

you thought that would be the end, but sunghoon asks, "baby, do you want to do this interview with me?"

ofc you agree

he makes u sit on his lap lol even when the camera crew is bringing another chair for you

instead of answer more questions sunghoon just talks about your relationship the entire time

he's giving an entire history lecture about your relationship

you don't say much, but you listen to him intently

when this interview goes up

a lot of his fans make edits of it

sunghoon is already known as a quiet typa guy, but when he talks for like 2 minutes straight about your relationship everyones like "oh god this guy really likes his girlfriend 😭"

in fact

the official interview cuts down sunghoon's tangent about you to 2 minutes, when the original clip was actually 10 minutes

i like to believe that WIRED released an uncut version of his tangent 😭

his fans make short edit videos like "sunghoon being whipped for [name]" or "sunghoon really likes his gf"

i think his fans also make edits of YOU

even though you're honestly in a very short clip of his interview

the way you look at him and listen so intently is SO GOOD

like you were definitely giving him 'the look' as he talked abt your relationship yk?

that once-over, maybe a little lip bite, MMMMM SO GOOD

now....

ik i said that heeseung was the keyboard warrior but like... i think sunghoon is the real one

he's out here fighting BATTLES with his keyboard oml

when stan twitter sees this.... sunghoon starts to fight them

there's tweets like

"the more i listen to sunghoon talk about his gf i more i feel like i'm falling for her"

"the woman that you are, [name]..."

"when she looks at the camera i feel shy"

"omg SHE WANTS ME"

sunghoon gets petty OH MY GOD

he responds to all the tweets about you

"she does not want you 😐." "you have no chance with her. 😐." "too bad she's mine 😇"

it's def in a playful joking way and it's really funny, but sunghoon is out here defending your honor

i think at some point sunghoon stops responding with words and just begins responding with pictures

someone tweets "sunghoon is your gf single"

and he straight up just responds with a picture of him staring blankly at the camera

LIKE HE'S DRILLING HOLES THROUGH THE CAMERA WITH HIS EYES

an absolute cutie if i do say so myself

on valentines day he posts a picture of him holding your hand to be extra petty lol

maknae ver.

5K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 5 months

Text

nonsense... or is it? | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

based on this request: sooo, anyways,,, i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is playing the guy who Milo was and this obviously breaks the internet even more and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush and now they're dating bc of them getting know each other more bc of the music video. sorry if this is all over the place but yeah. - @whoreks

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,200,441 others

yourusername: holla babes !!! the feather music video is heading your way fast xxx if only my real boyfriends were like my music videos ones ...

view all comments

user1: MOTHER

user2: finally music videos are back baby !!

taylorswift: you can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

yourusername: thanks to you baby

user3: oh to be able to call taylor swift baby

user4: y/n's shade is so underrated - i too wish her boyfriends were as good as her mv ones

user5: she's got such a good eye for casting why can't she do this in her actual love life

user6: okay but he's hot based off a single shoulder i'm excited

user7: you got that from a SHOULDER?

user8: he's TALL?

user9: babe y/n is like 4'2 she makes everyone look tall

user10: say what you want about the catholic church, they got the aesthetic down pat

yourbff1: so we aren't asking the mv boyf out? boring.

yourusername: we have lil things called phones? USE IT HOE

user11: charles leclerc in the likes

user12: so true of him

user13: unless he's... the guy

user14: babe he's way too short lol

user15: have yall seen the sky ad? baby aint acting any time soon

yourusername

liked by yourbff1, charles_leclerc and 1,763,550 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: OMG you guys blew the feather music video up !! i'm sure it had nothing to do with this random guy i found off the street? jokes, thank you charles for being the perf mv boyf xx

view all comments

user17: HOLY FUCKING SHIT

user18: celeb crush inception no one touch me

charles_leclerc: thank you for my music video debut, maybe you can return the favour one day?

yourusername: i'll return any favour you want

yourbff1: dial down the desperation babe

charles_leclerc: what if i want her to dial it up please?

yourbff1: do NOT encourage her

yourusername: please encourage me :)

user19: Y/N STAND UP PLEASE

user20: actually y/n is so real have yall seen that man YUM

liked by yourusername

user21: y/n is a genius for fancasting her future bf in her music video

danielricciardo: THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT? SHARL WHEN I CATCH YOU

pierregasly: and me :( i thought our friendship meant more ....

charles_leclerc: it was a secret

yourusername: he doesn't kiss and tell xoxo

alexalbon: WHAT ??????

charles_leclerc: okay we can stop joking now

yourusername: fine...

user22: the way charles was defo typing that through tears

user23: y/n make the move we believe in you

user24: believe in her? she can get anyone she wants he's gotta STEP UP

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 2,099,441 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: had a blast filming for my first ever music video, thank you y/n !!

view all comments

user25: i'm feeling a new unhealthy attachment forming

yourusername: feel free to come back any time soon

charles_leclerc: or maybe you can come to me?

yourusername: is this my paddock debut?

charles_leclerc: make sure you're wearing red and it sure can be

yourusername: let me check the wardrobe

user26: i will pass away if we get y/n at a race... in the ferrari garage ???

pierregasly: let it be known i am still angry that you didn't tell me, especially after all the weird rants i've listened to

alexalbon: me too

georgerussell63: me too

landonorris: me too

danielricciardo: me too

carlossainz55: me too

maxverstappen1: me too

charles_leclerc: why is max here?

maxverstappen1: that's what you're taking from this?

charles_leclerc: yeah why are you in my business

maxverstappen1: you make it my business you talk about her all the time

yourusername: oh really ???

charles_leclerc: HE'S A BIG FAT LIAR HE'S ALWAYS BEEN A BIG FAT LIAR ALL HIS LIFE INCLUDING WHEN I MAYBE ACCIDENTALLY PUSHED HIM IN A PUDDLE

maxverstappen1: YOU DID PUSH ME IN THAT PUDDLE

yourusername: what is going on here?

user27: poor y/n being thrown into the grid drama

user28: poor charles with the grid trying to expose him

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,334,661 others

yourusername: clearly was feeling myself this week

view all comments

user31: lol why is max here

maxverstappen1: doing my due diligence as an investigative journalist

charles_leclerc: choke.

user32: is that charles? are we in the soft launch?

user33: let's not get ahead of ourselves, we know charles doesn't dress that well

user34: consider this: girlfriend effect

user35: girlfriend effect is gonna have to do some heavy lifting when it comes to charles' wardrobe

yourbff1: you think you're so slick don't you

yourusername: maybe. maybe not?

yourbff1: you're so annoying

yourusername: annoyingly cute?

liked by charles_leclerc

yourbff1: keep your nose out of women's business leclerc

charles_leclerc: SLANDER

user36: i mean they seem to have the same sense of humour

user37: not to sound insane but they are perfect for each other and i will be passing away if they are not together

pierregasly: interesting

danielricciardo: add it to the folder

charles_leclerc: folder ???

maxverstappen1: leave us journalists be

charles_leclerc: can you even read?

yourusername: GET HER JADE

maxverstappen1: add that as well

charles_leclerc: why can't we win?

user38: what is going on in the house of commons

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,331,663 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't believe in soft launches

view all comments

user39: we been knew... but OMG PARENTS

user40: i am crying they're so hot

yourusername: hawt bf obtained

charles_leclerc: sexy gf in my inventory

yourusername: you're such a cute patootie

charles_leclerc: i cannot speak my mind or instagram will censor me

yourusername: ...oop hurry up and come back :(

charles_leclerc: about to break all US speeding laws xoxo

yourusername: not you in your charli xcx era

user41: he's with her ... in the US ... could we get y/n paddock debut in vegas ???

user42: would only be right i fear

user43: the scheduling just about makes sense before she has to go back to opening for taylor in south america

user44: now why did vegas not get in their bag and get y/n to perform at the opening ceremony?

pierregasly: way to ruin the investigation

danielricciardo: yeah we were in our sherlock holmes era

maxverstappen1: have to spoil everything don't you charles 🤨

charles_leclerc: i thought you guys wanted to know who my girlfriend is?

alexalbon: yes, but we wanted to expose it :(

yourusername: CORNY

pierregasly: oh no. he has someone on his side now

yourusername: damn right frenchie. i can hear your asshole twitching from here

pierregasly: WHAT ???

charles_leclerc: idk what that means but YEAH PIERRE TAKE THAT

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 2,114,762 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: gutted not to be on the top step but an overall great weekend in vegas. glad to have y/n by my side this weekend before she's off again to slay the stage xx

view all comments

user48: charles unironically using the word slay, the girlfriend effect knows no bounds

user49: the sky camera zooming in on y/n watching the podium

user50: i think we watched her fall in love in real time

user51: i mean look at the material... podium charles hits so different i think I FELL IN LOVE

yourusername: you're a winner to me babe

charles_leclerc: and that's all that matters

yourusername: NOPE STAY HUNGRY GET THEM POINTS AND DESTROY THE REST OF THE FIELD

charles_leclerc: okay :)

yourusername: good boy

pierregasly: never say that in public again

maxverstappen1: is this why he's blushing so much in the press conference?

charles_leclerc: NO. NO REASON

yourusername: you sure?

charles_leclerc: i am the unluckiest driver ever and am screwed over at every turn sue me if i like a lil praise

user52: charles is so real for that i also want y/n to tell me i'm doing a good job

alexalbon: enough time has passed. @yourusername can lily get some extra tickets for the eras tour

yourusername: of course. anything for my new bestie

lilymunhe: thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu. charles you have amazing taste

charles_leclerc: i know :)

yourusername: i mean i got you, so who's the real winner here?

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,667,982 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & taylorswift

yourusername: my leg of the eras tour has come to an end :( this was such an insane opportunity, thank you so much taylor xx but this also means i can go annoy charlie until he has to go back to work !!

one last nonsense outro:

i met this lovely boy named charlie,

he races round the world for ferrari,

giving it to me everyday like ari

view all comments

user53: i think y/n might actually be winning in life

user54: is she referencing everyday by ariana grande which is literally just a song about having constant sex?

yourusername: yes and what about it? f1 drivers have great stamina

arthurleclerc: DELETE ASAP

yourusername: no can do baby leclerc

user55: fave outro for real

charles_leclerc: i am blushing !!

pierregasly: she just told millions of people all you do is fuck and now you're blushing ???

yourusername: i don't think mr doggy emoji is talking right now

charles_leclerc: at least y/n did it in an artful way

pierregasly: believe me i know YOU WON'T STOP SINGING IT DOWN THE PHONE YOU MENACE

yourusername: you sing my songs :) ?

carlossainz55: ALL THE TIME

yourusername: i don't like your tone mr 🤨

charles_leclerc: i am just showing my love :(

yourusername: @pierregasly @carlossainz55 you made him sad APOLOGIZE IMMEDIATELY

pierregasly: sorry?

carlossainz55: sorry i guess?

charles_leclerc: thank you :) i shall continue to sing to my heart's content

yourusername: good.

taylorswift: you were amazing !! i'll see you soon my love xx

yourusername: i'm hearing double date ??

taylorswift: i'm sure that can be arranged

charles_leclerc: OMG

user56: charles and travis are really the top tier himbo bfs and i love them for that

fin.

note: i really loved writing this so i hope this was everything you imagined and more!! i'm just getting into sabrina's music but i was a girl meets world stan so... i hope i did the nonsense outro justice xxx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic

3K notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 24 days

Text

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

part one | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were.

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you.

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive.

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later.

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost.

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go.

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question.

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you.

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet.

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong.

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours.

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms.

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close.

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want.

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel.

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart.

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you.

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you.

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure.

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger.

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes.

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies.

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch.

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes.

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way.

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak.

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear.

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you.

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to.

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him.

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise.

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important.

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra.

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him.

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked.

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands.

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Not right now,” he agrees.

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides.

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown.

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range.

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff.

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight.

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles.

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing.

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs.

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought.

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning.

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you.

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together.

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles.

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage.

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair.

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess.

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you.

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you.

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this?

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself.

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches.

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply.

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone.

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck.

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him.

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff.

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again.

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod.

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze.

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction.

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him.

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions.

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core.

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry.

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious.

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest.

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him.

Thankfully, he delivers.

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl.

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you.

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds.

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second.

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh.

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer.

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit.

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair.

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light.

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous.

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning.

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan.

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it.

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection.

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat.

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core.

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first.

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen.

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

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celestie0 · 1 month

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach.

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her.

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?”

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.”

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long.

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore.

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you.

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights.

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.”

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you.

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give.

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes.

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong.

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.”

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth.

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck.

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field.

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed.

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too.

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!”

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before.

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck.

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.”

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.”

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?”

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess.

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that.

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair.

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.”

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.”

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.”

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand. “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry.

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—”

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does.

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.”

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done.

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you.

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look.

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing.

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness.

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing.

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused.

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging.

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist.

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along.

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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sturnioz · 1 month

Text

‘THIS IS (NOT) EASY’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, fluff, angst

word count. 13.7k

❝being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as i thought it would be...❞

content warnings. friends with benefits au, crack humour, explicit content, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, p in v, unprotected sex (creampies), big dick matt, doggy position, alcohol consumption and mentions of weed, flirty!chris,

—authors note. i've actually written this before but for a different person on another blog. so if you happen to stumble across that somehow and notice the similarities, its me lol. i just liked the plot so much and i wanted to use it for matt.

“Wait, you what?!”

You gasp out loud, not caring about the loudness of your tone, voice piercing throughout the library alongside the squeaking legs of your chair across the wooden flooring as you abruptly straight up in your seat.

Other students with their heads shoved in books and laptop screens peek over in curiosity while one irritated classmate leans over the table to shush you angrily, warning you about the volume of your voice but you pay them no mind, gaze fixed on Matt who sits across from you sheepishly.

Matthew Sturniolo—one of the heartthrobs on campus, the quiet and mysterious type that turns curious heads, and undoubtedly the kindest guy in class has been your best friend for the past few years. You met during a practice hockey game where fourteen-year-old Matt had tried to score a goal to impress his brothers and newfound friends, only for the hockey puck to come flying over the glass barrier, hurling straight towards your face and leaving you with a swollen eyeball and a busted up nose.

Matt was unbelievably apologetic, going to extreme lengths by buying candies and ripping up flowers from potted plants to give to you whenever you both crossed paths, begging for your forgiveness over and over again desperately until you socked him in the face, giving him a hefty nosebleed and a bruised cheek in return.

A toothy grin spread across your cheeks and you finally had accepted the gifts out of his hands, a happy ‘now we’re even!’ leaving your lips as you had ripped open the candies, offering him a treat, offering him your friendship.

The two of you became inseparable and if someone saw one of you, they knew that the other would be trailing along behind them. You were two peas in a pod—the dynamic duo. You were so joined at the hip that when you both enrolled for college, you tried signing up for a dorm on campus, wanting and hoping to be roommates.

It didn’t happen.

Matt ended up rooming with one of his friends, Tyler, while you got stuck with some girl you didn’t even know but had become acquainted with over a short period of time.

Still, you and Matt never strayed far from each other even with your roommates in the picture. He sleeps over at your place every now and then, and vice versa. You’re certain that he’s even claimed a whole drawer in your dresser, filled with his spare shirts, sweatpants and underwear.

A lot of your mutual friends, including his brothers, found it suspicious how you two could be so close without anything going on between you both, complaining how the two of you can’t be just friends. It was partially the truth.

You are not just friends, you’re best friends.

“I’m just saying, that you’re complaining about not hooking up with someone for a few days while I haven’t slept with someone for, like, a month,” Matt repeats to you with flushed cheeks, adjusting the black cap on his head with one hand while the other skilfully twirls a pen around his fingers, “Times are hard, kid. I got assignments up to my ass—”

“There’s no way you haven’t hooked up with someone lately,” You hiss through gritted teeth, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth when he’s talking about such nonsense.

A nearby student from the table next to yours shifts around in their seat in annoyance to look at you, pressing their finger aggressively against their lips to tell you to quiet down and you scoff in response, throwing them the middle finger with your own irritancy and annoyance.

“Can you not?” Matt scolds as his hand firmly wraps around your own, squeezing in warning as he guides it back down to the table. He offers an apologetic smile to the student, and as always, it works like a charm as they shyly smile back and resume their work. Another scoff leaves your lips and Matt turns his attention back to you. “I’m telling you the truth, you know.”

“Bullshit,” You murmur, sending him a glare. “That girl from my study group was over at your dorm last weekend—I saw her Snapchat stories.”

“Dude, we’re both in the same study group. She came over for some of my notes and ended up staying longer because Tyler offered her an ounce of his ‘premium weed’,” Matt explains, adding a sarcastic emphasis around the word ‘premium weed’ which has you snorting, knowing that there was nothing premium about Tyler’s stash. “She eventually ended up staying over and hooking up with Chris anyways.”

Your face contorts into a look of confusion at that, “What? Chris? He isn’t even your roommate.”

“I know. Tyler’s sheets are still in the dryer,” Matt grimaces. “But Nick has had this ‘sex-free’ policy on his and Chris’ dorm ever since that guy screwed him over last weekend.”

“Oh…” You pause, amused at Nick’s new policy, but then the realisation finally hits you. “So that’s why Tyler didn’t have any sheets on his bed when I came over on Monday.”

“Y—wait, you came over Monday?” Matt snaps his head towards you, eyes narrowing as he jabs his pen in your direction. “Did you fuck in my bed?!”

“No. Of course not,” You gasp, deeply offended by his accusation and Matt lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders as he leans back into his chair. “We actually fucked on the couch—”

“Are you fucking kidding me—”

“That’s besides the point!” You cut him off before he can grill you, silencing him by raising your hand in front of his face when he tries to retaliate again. “The fact remains, Matt, is that you haven’t fucked anyone in a whole month. And that’s like… I don’t know, it’s like blasphemy!”

Matt deadpans, his expression devoid of amusement. “I’m pretty sure that’s not blasphemy.”

“Whatever. You know what I mean,” You dismiss, shoving your books and pens as far away from you as you possibly could, no longer interested in studying the endless amount of words on that page now that you’ve discovered your best friend hasn't hooked up with anyone in so long. You sit comfortably in your chair as you fully give him your attention, tucking your legs beneath you. “I can’t believe it…”

“You’re telling me,” Matt huffs, deciding to set aside his own studies too. He rubs his face in frustration, groaning beneath his palms. You console him with a frown, reaching out to rub his shoulder in sympathy. Matt’s hands drop to his lap, and he shoots you a glare, “I can’t believe you didn’t believe me. Why would I lie about something like that?!”

You’re quick to defend yourself, “You fuck more than I do. Of course I'm not gonna believe a word you say when you tell me something like that!”

And it’s true, Matt does have a higher number of sexual encounters compared to you. His boyish charm and adorable face doesn’t hide the fact that his body count is probably in the twenties, and that his online bank statements are likely to reveal the frequent purchases of packs of condoms (and maybe a few Plan B pills for extra precaution). Matt has always been cautious and responsible, which doesn’t surprise you. He’s not one to take unnecessary risks or potentially impregnate someone, especially a stranger.

“You didn’t have to say it out loud like that…” Matt mutters under his breath, cheeks dusting a slight shade of pink as another student turns around in their seat to glare at the pair of you, but her eyes widen comically as she sees Matt. Shyly, she tucks her hair behind her ears with a kind smile that Matt reciprocates. You lean back in your seat with a roll of your eyes just as Matt brings his attention back to you, “Are we done with this conversation? I’d rather talk about something more interesting than my nonexistent sex life.”

“Fine,” You relent. “Are you going to Nate’s later?”

“No, kid’s got some important hockey meeting or something, so we’re hanging another time,” Matt sighs softly, removing his cap to run his fingers through his hair before readjusting it. “Would you be cool if I came over yours?”

“Sure,” You grin, already shoving your belongings into your bag, eager to leave the library as soon as possible. Matt’s lip curls up in amusement as he follows in suit, packing his own things into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

As you glance over, you notice the girl still staring at Matt and a mischievous smirk forms on your face as you slam your hand on the desk in front of her, capturing her attention.

You jab your thumb in Matt’s direction and you teasingly offer, “If you want his number. I can give it to you. He’s been stuck in a dry spell recently, so—”

Before you can finish your sentence, Matt’s fingers curl around your elbow, yanking you away from the bewildered girl with a huff, “Move.”

“I’ve been thinking about something…” You break the comfortable silence between you both after a few hours of binge-watching a series and indulging in takeout, dropping your pizza crust into the cardboard box and pushing it aside. Matt sits beside you on the couch, his own pizza in hand, gaze fixed on the TV screen, listening to what the characters are saying.

Matt glances at you with a quick, pointed look as he chews, “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Wow. Funny.” You deadpan with a roll of your eyes and he chuckles under his breath, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “Anyway, and hear me out before you say some dumb shit. I’ve been thinking about something that relates to that little problem we both have, and I may have come up with a way to fix it.”

“Why are you still hung up on this?” Matt complains between mouthfuls. “I don’t want to be constantly reminded that I’m not having sex—”

You quickly raise your hand to hush him and he goes cross eyed to stare at your palm in confusion. “I said hear me out.”

“Fine.”

“Great!“ You exclaim with a grin, “Okay, so, you and I are the best of friends, right? We always help each other out and—”

“Where is this going?”

“Hear. Me. Out.” You warn once more, emphasising each word. Matt sighs, nodding his head for you to continue. “We always help each other out, correct? And there’s no awkwardness between us, which is what also makes us so close. Remember that time we had to make out in front of Jeremy so he would stop hitting on me? And that time I pretended to be your girlfriend so Gracie would get the hint that you didn’t want to sleep with her anymore?”

“Well, yeah, but that didn’t exactly work out because we ended up hooking up with them a few days after it happened—”

“That’s not the point,” You say as you frustratingly rub at your temples. “The point is that we always help each other, no matter what the situation is, because we’re best friends. So, as best friends, I think we should help each other out with our little situation.”

“And how can we help each other out?”

“By fucking each other.”

The second those words leave your mouth, Matt chokes on his food, banging his fist against his chest as he coughs, his eyes watering and face turning red. The sight of his reaction has you cackling, wishing you had your phone nearby to take a picture.

After a few moments, Matt manages to regain his breath, reaching down to grab his bottle of water from the side of the couch and gulping it down almost immediately.

You click your tongue against your teeth, a playful smirk on your face. “That was a little dramatic.”

“And you’re crazy,” Matt shoots back, water droplets trickling down his chin as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you realise what you just said?”

You nod your head, “Perfectly.”

“We are not fucking. It’ll be weird,” Matt says, you instantly find offence to that, your jaw dropping in disbelief. Matt rolls his eyes at your reaction. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t do that type of shit—Stop looking at me like that!”

You huff, turning your head away from him childishly. “I’m just trying to help us out. I don’t think it’ll be weird… people have done weirder.”

“Are you aware of how many friendships have been ruined because they fucked?” Matt questions you and you take a moment to ponder, wincing as you can easily name a few from the top of your head. “Exactly. As much as I find you attractive, I’m not going to ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for too long.”

Your head slowly turns back to Matt, who’s already looking at you. A grin spreads across your face as you flirtatiously bat your eyelashes at him, “You think I’m attractive?”

“My god, you’ve un-fucking-believable, I swear…” Matt trails off, muttering under his breath as he rubs at his forehead in frustration. You beam at the thought of getting under his skin, but eventually you roll your eyes and reach over to press your foot into his side, playfully nudging him to bring his attention back to you.

Matt looks over at you with a deadpan expression and you continue to grin at him, tilting your head to the side as you admire the view.

Truthfully, you’ve always found Matt attractive even if it was in a friendly way and you’d be lying if you said that hooking up with him has never crossed your mind, but that’s mainly because you’re nosy and want to see what all the fuss is about when you constantly hear the girls fawn about what he’s like in bed.

Some say he’s extremely giving, tending to their needs in all ways possible. Some also say he’s demanding and rough, one hand curled into their hair as he’s fucking them from behind, spitting out degrading words into their ears. But you’ve also heard that he sometimes comes across as needy and desperate, begging for his cock to be sucked and to be made a mess out of.

It piques your interest a lot… maybe it’s wrong of you to think that way about someone you know so well, but you’re human after all, sometimes you can’t help the way you think about certain people.

“Look,” You speak up first, letting out a sigh. “What I said was just a suggestion, okay? If you don’t want to do it, then that’s fine—”

“How do you know that it won’t ruin our friendship?” Matt cuts you off and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the question. “We’ve been best friends for, like, six years or something right? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to throw that all away because we messed up and decided to fuck each other just because we’re ‘sex deprived’.”

“We’re not going to get into anything super serious,” You reassure him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, we’re probably going to end up in some type of friends with benefits situation, but we’re not going to include any of that official or exclusive title bullshit. We just hook up for a release when we can’t find it anywhere else, it’s as simple as that. No complications.”

“So…” Matt purses his lips in deep thought. “We can still fuck other people?”

You scoff, “Of course. You think I’d drop Tyler for you that easily?”

“Fuck you.”

Your lips curl into a smirk, “I’m hoping you would.”

Matt stares at you for a brief moment before chuckling, shaking his head as his tongue prods at his cheek. The little action spurs something within you but you remain seated, wanting Matt to be the one to make the first move if he was game in fucking you to help relieve the stress you’re both feeling… maybe Matt a little more considering that you fucked Tyler a few days prior, but you were desperate to be filled again.

You watch Matt sit in silence for a moment, seemingly deep in his thoughts as his eyebrows knit together, thinking about the pros and cons. His hands come up to pull the cap off of his head completely, his hair messily falling in front of his eyes and your thighs press together as the thought of seeing it between your legs with your fingers threading through the locks.

You internally laugh at how deluded you sound.

“What time does your roommate get back tonight?” Matt questions you, his low tone bringing you out of your own thoughts and your body buzzes with excitement, fumbling as you reach over to snag your phone off the coffee table to check the time, informing him that she won’t be home for another three hours. “Alright. Good to know.”

“So?” You press, dropping your phone back down as you look at him expectedly. “What’s it going to be?”

Matt takes a deep breath, “No titles.”

“None at all.”

“We can still fuck whoever we want.”

“Whoever, whenever.”

“And most importantly…” Matt pauses with a deep sigh, leaning over the couch closer to you and he holds up his hand, his pinkie outstretched. “We’re still best friends.”

“It’ll be like nothing ever changed.” You promise softly with a smile, curling your pinky finger around his own, squeezing it tightly to keep your promise.

It’s silent between you both for a while, and you can clearly see the cogs turning inside Matt’s head as he thinks about his next move, yet you’re the one that decides to take that initiative.

You rip your hand away from his to throw your arms around his shoulders, fingers buried into his locks as you drag him towards you to eagerly plant your lips on his. You’re surprised at how fast Matt responds to the kiss as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The plenty drunken kisses you’ve shared with Matt to help each other out of sticky situations is nothing like the kiss you’re experiencing right now, and it catches you extremely off guard. You were expecting him to allow you to take control of what was happening and lead him through it considering you were the one to bring it up, but with the way Matt’s pushing you backwards to lay you down on the couch and crawling between your open legs with his lips still attached to yours, you’re stumped.

“Wait,” You stop him, pressing your palm against his chest to push him back and Matt moves away with raw, wet lips, his fingers hovering above the waistband of your shorts. “Why are we doing this on the couch? I have a bed we can use.”

Matt glares down at you, “That didn’t stop you and Tyler from fucking on my couch.”

“Actually, there were no sheets on Tyler’s bed, so—”

“Think of this as payback,” Matt smiles at you sweetly and you snarl, knocking your leg against his side with force and he laughs through clenched teeth, “Besides, you’ve probably fucked a lot of people on this couch… Do you really care?”

You blink up at him. “Are you implying that I’m a slut?”

Matt shrugs, “Maybe, yeah.”

“That’s so hot of you.”

Matt chuckles and leans down to reconnect your lips, fingers unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs with your underwear, carelessly throwing them somewhere to the side and you hiss at the cold air that hits, yearning for warmth.

Matt’s lips trail down your throat and to the collar of your shirt, nipping and sucking at your skin, heading south to where your thighs shake in anticipation. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you watch him shuffling down to lay between your legs, hands pushing against your knees to spread you further apart, the coldness of his rings prickling at your skin.

Your own hand reaches down to thread your fingers through his hair, trying to tug him closer but he barely budges, gazing up at you with his brows knit together.

You whine, “Hurry.”

“Are you always this impatient?”

“Of course,” You look at him like he’s stupid. “We’re both doing this for a reason and it’s to cum, not to take our sweet little time and—Oh shit…”

“Fucking yapping. You talk too much.” Matt drags his tongue through your folds, the pink muscle swirling over your clit and your body jerks in shock at the sensation, a gasp fleeting past your lips as your grip on his hair tightens, feeling his tongue wiggle between your folds and licking upwards to flick over your clit before his fingers tease at your entrance.

Your body goes slack against the couch cushions, mouth stuck open as he eases two digits inside the warmth of your pussy, curling his fingers upwards as his lips wrap around your sensitive clit and you whine, tugging at his hair a little harder which causes him to groan, the vibrations causing goosebumps to shoot up your spine.

You’re in shock at how well Matt actually uses his tongue and fingers. Of course you’ve heard stories from your girl friends and even Matt himself, but you didn’t expect him to be this good and it completely catches you off track, unable to control the noises that rip from the back of your throat when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt while using his tongue to work wonders on your clit.

“Matt,” You whisper his name with a moan, thighs twitching and closing in around his head. You feel him smirk against your pussy and you squeeze your thighs in warning. “Stop it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?” He asks, his tone a little condescending as he raises his head, mouth glistening with your arousal. His fingers continue hitting that spot that has your toes curling and back arching against the cushions. “You can cum, if you want.”

“You’re so fucking cocky,” You tut, fighting the urge to smile but you amusement ends up slipping away and is overcome b y pleasure as he pumps his fingers a few more times, the tightening band in your stomach snapping as you cum all over his fingers, gasping through high pitched whines and trying to control the convulsing movement of your body.

“That’s it,” Matt hums, pressing a quick kiss to your pussy. “Good job.”

You choke out your words, unable to come up with a full sentence as your hand falls limp onto his shoulder, fingers twitching over the material as you breathe heavily. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Me eating you out,” He answers matter-of-factly, a hint of smugness in his tone as he pops his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean. Your mouth drops in shock at the action and he meets your gaze, “You good?”

“Yeah… good.” You nod dumbly, completely astonished at how nonchalant Matt is acting as you watch him tug his sweatpants and boxers down his legs awkwardly when he sits up, eyes automatically zoning in on his cock that slaps against his stomach once freed from its confinements.

Honestly, you have seen Matt naked. He’s comfortable with stripping in front of you and changing without any thought. But… you’ve never seen Matt hard, and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering.

Your best friend is huge.

“Okay,” Matt mumbles to himself, crawling forward and hooking his hands under the back of your knees to pull you closer to him, his thumbs caressing your skin. “Are you sure you’re ready? You know there’s no turning back from this, right?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” You grin as you wiggle against him excitedly. “Give me what you got, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” Matt clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head as he slowly eases his cock into you. Slowly, your eyes start to widen at the stretch, the burn obvious in your core and thighs, and your hand flies down to his in hopes to slow down his movements despite him going as slow as he possibly can.

You try to breathe steadily through your nose, lips pressed together tightly as your wince at the uncomfortable ache that spreads, your pussy clamping down on him as if you were trying to prevent him from pushing any further.

“Ow.” You whisper, twisting your hips to try and get comfortable and relax but you wince at each movement you make, causing Matt to raise his gaze from where you’re connected to look into your eyes, his own pooling with concern.

“Are you okay?”

You hum with a curt nod of your head, “Nothing of that significant size has been up there before, you know? I’m just… feeling uncomfortable, that’s all.”

Matt’s lips curl into a grin, “You calling my dick big?”

You send him a hardened glare, “Not as big as your fucking head.”

Matt laughs loudly and he lays his hand flat across your lower stomach as he adjusts himself between your legs, head ducking down slightly to watch himself slowly push into you once more, but the second your legs tense up, he sighs apologetically and strokes your stomach, sliding his cock out of you and you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, looking at him with a pout.

“Give me a second, okay?” Matt orders you, gently grabbing your waist to help turn you around on all fours. The brows pinch together at the new position, but your body seems to relax when you feel his hands slide around your back and press down tightly, arching it to hold you in place as you feel his cock at your entrance once more. “This should feel better. But tell me if it hurts? I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Just—” You grit your teeth together. “Just fuck me, Matt.”

“You got it.” Matt whispers as he pushes himself back into you again at a slower pace and you gasp, your fingers gripping the arm of the couch, head dropping low to rest on the cushions as you try to control your breathing. The new position was definitely better than the last, but you can still feel him stretch you out to fit you around his cock. “Is my dick really that big?”

“Are you asking because you’re concerned or because you want me to boost your ego?”

Matt smiles, “Maybe both.”

You don’t even get the chance to retaliate with your own snarky comment as Matt fills you up completely, hips pressing to your ass and cry out at how full you’re feeling, unable to think properly as he pulls back, leaving the tip nestled in your cunt before thrusting back in.

Matt curses loudly behind you, fingers digging into your ski as he rocks his hips into you, his thrusts sending your body jerking forwards. You squeeze around his cock and he grunts, changing his pace and you can’t help but fuck youtself back onto him, whining and panting at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin is enough to have your eyes rolling back in pleasure, driving you even closer to the edge along with his rapid thrusts and continuous cursing. You’re positive you can even hear him praise you a little bit, muttering about how tight your pussy is.

You would’ve never guessed he was into such dirty talk. Matt continues to amaze you.

Your pussy clamps around his cock when you feel his hand sneak beneath your body to reach between your thighs, the pads of his fingers rubbing diligent circles on your clit and you mewl, your own hand coming down to latch around his wrist.

“Shit,” You slur your words, drool seeping past the corner of your lips. “So good—fuck, Matt, don’t stop—s’good.”

“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna stop.” Matt chuckles behind you and you can feel the tears build up in your waterline as Matt leans over your body, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the couch, his other still rubbing circles on your clit. You gasp as how deep he’s nestled within you and it has you seeing stars, your toes curling and your body tensing up as his cock fucks into your cunt, repeatedly hitting that spot over and over before your second orgasm of the night hits you violently.

Your screams are muffled by the cushions, walls pulsating around his cock as you cum, struggling to hold up your own weight as your body falls limp on the couch. Pleasure buzzes through your veins and it sends you mind whirling as Matt fucks you through it to reach his own high, moving his hand from your clit to rest on your lower back, arching your ass up to fuck you deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He pants heavily, thumb stroking the bottom of your spine. “Fuck—tell me where I can cum.”

“Anywhere you want.” You slur your words, craning your head to the side to look at him, capturing how his eyes widen slightly.

“Anywhere?” Matt repeats as he slows down his movements and you nod your head, only to yelp in shock when he pulls out of you completely and flips your body around once more. You stare at him in surprise as he crawls up your body, resting a hand on your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. “Here?”

You don’t give him a verbal answer, instead you open wide, welcoming him and Matt grins, pushing the head of his cock into your mouth and sighing as your lips close around him, suckling on his tip as he cums in long spurts down your throat, brows knitting together in pleasure and moaning softly as your tongue presses against his slit, swallowing everything he gives you.

There’s a comfortable silence as Matt removes himself from above you, choosing to drop down in the limited space between your body and the couch, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he tries to catch his breath.

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened, staring between Matt’s naked lower half and yours before you abruptly sit up, rolling onto your knees that pop as you stare down at him incredulously.

“Matt!” You screech, punching his shoulder with such force that has him wincing.

“Ow!” He hisses, rubbing the area. “Why—”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were that good?” You immediately cut him off, not allowing him to finish as you shake your head quickly. “We should’ve done this ages ago!”

Matt rolls his eyes in annoyance despite the grin that spreads across his cheeks as he throws his arm over his face, “Shut up.”

“Okay, so, let me get this straight,” Nick pauses to chew and swallow his sandwich, pointing between you and Matt on the opposite side of the table. “You two decided to hook up last night because neither of you have hooked up with anyone in a long time, and now you’ve made some sort of deal that when you can’t find release somewhere else, you’ll go to each other?”

“Yeah.”

“What the actual fuck?!” Nick exclaims, looking at you both as if you’ve grown an extra head before abruptly turning to Chris and Tyler who are sitting beside each other silently, watching everything unfold. “Why are you guys saying anything?!”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Chris shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before he turns his attention to you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Although, I am kind of offended you didn’t ask me to fuck you.”

You grimace, “It makes me queasy thinking about where your dick has been, if I’m honest.”

“When was the last time you got tested?” Matt teases his younger triplet, a slight smirk curling at the ends of his lips as he leans back into his chair, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he manspreads. Chris rolls his eyes and retaliates by throwing him the middle finger.

“And you’re okay with this?” Nick questions Tyler who slowly nods his head as he rolls a blunt beneath the table, lips pursed in concentration.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tyler questions back, lifting his gaze to Nick and raising a brow before looking back down to his lap. “We just fuck, that’s it. And besides, sometimes I get so faded that I can’t even get my dick up. She needs good dick and I can’t give it to her when I’m that out of it.”

You gasp in awe, reaching across the table to grip his arm. “You are so thoughtful!”

“So I’m the only sane fucking person that thinks this is a stupid idea?” Nick shakes his head in disbelief, biting into his sandwich with a deep sigh. His eyes suddenly widen, a piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth as he erratically pats his pockets. “Where’s Nate? Somebody text Nate right now.”

“Please, you know damn well Nate isn’t going to give a shit,” Chris cackles with a grin, adjusting the beanie on his head. “Pretty sure he fucked his girl best friend last year.”

“Yeah? And where is she now?” Nick looks at all of you expectedly for an answer and you frown, sinking into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest. “Exactly.”

“Come on, kid, it’s not like that…” Matt tries to explain. “We talked about it. We’re not doing any of that exclusive or official title stuff. We’re not making it weird.”

“Meaning we can still hook up with whoever we want.” You add on, eyes flickering over to Tyler and you give him a pretty smile, only for him to look back at you with a smirk and give you a flirtatious wink.

“So, what I’m hearing is,” Chris pauses, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he bats his eyelashes at you. “There’s still a chance for me?”

Nick immediately plugs his ears as he repeatedly mumbles, “I don’t not want to hear this. Stop it immediately. I hate it.”

“Hate what?” Nate’s voice interrupts from behind and you whiz around in your seat, grinning widely as you see Nate approaching your table with his hockey jersey in one hand and his books in the other.

He greets you all with a smile, placing his belongings down on the table before grabbing an empty chair from another, the metal legs scraping across the floor as he drags it to place beside Matt, slapping his hand down on Matt’s shoulder in greeting as he sits down.

“What are you talking about anyway?”

“They hooked up,” Nick immediately jumps straight into it as he points at the two of you and you sigh, throwing your head back in frustration. Matt laughs beside you. “And they’re going to continue to hook up whenever they don’t have anyone else to go to, so—”

“Oh, nice man.”

Nick stares at Nate, “No. Not nice. Not nice at all,” Nick shakes his head. “You’re all helpless. Dumb and helpless, every single one of you.”

Nate pulls a face, “I mean, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be—”

“That’s what I said~” Chris sings.

“And besides, they’re grown adults. They can do whatever they want.” Nate’s words make your brows raise with little surprise, watching as he flips open his book and grabs the pen that rests behind his ear, biting the cap off with his teeth before looking at you. “I’m surprised it took you both this look to actually hook-up… I thought it would’ve happened months ago.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just means I thought you two would’ve fucked months ago.” Nate smiles and shrugs his shoulders innocently, blowing the cap out of his mouth and watching it with his hand before he begins to scribble on the pages. You roll your eyes, glancing over at Matt who shrugs his own shoulders, not fully understanding the meaning of Nate’s words but chooses not to dwell on it any longer as he reaches for his drink, sipping through the straw as he gives his attention to Chris who angles his phone in his direction to show him something you could barely see.

Nick shakes his head, still in disbelief as he shoves the last remaining bite of his sandwich into his mouth before grabbing his book out of his backpack to take notes alongside Nate. He then comically raises his head up to point his pen at you and Matt.

“Also, just to let you know, I don’t want to hear any complaining from either of you when this whole situationship bullshit ends up going to literal shit,” Nick warns before he slowly turns to the pen to point to himself, “Because I will laugh in your face and simply say, ‘I told you so’.”

A scoff leaves your lips as Matt speaks, “Relax, kid. Everything is going to be fine. Plus, this whole thing could just be a one time thing… It might not even happen again,” Matt turns to look at you. “Right?”

A smile finds its way onto your face as you lean your elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you give him an affirmative nod. “Right.”

“Fuck, Matt.” You moan out his name repeatedly, back arching off your bed, gripping the pillows resting behind your head with your mouth wide open. Matt’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy, squirting over his hand and splashing onto the bed sheets below you.

He laughs as you shove your face into the crook of your arm, body trembling and breathing whines slipping past your lips from the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you with his fingers.

Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he’s already prying you back open with the other, holding them down to the bed as his fingers curl upwards, almost bringing you to tears at the pleasure in the pit of your tummy.

“There we go…” Matt hums softly, milking you for every drop you can give. You quiver and gasp when Matt comes to a stop, the grin on his face evident as he pulls his fingers from your cunt and you whine, struggling to raise your foot and kick him in his side. He captures your ankle in his grasp, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You good?”

“You good?” You mock him, tone nasally. Your arms flop to your side as you take a deep breath, ignoring the way Matt’s laughing at you. “That was intense… I felt like I was going crazy.”

“Thank you,” Matt grins, eyes twinkling as he slips off your bed. “Your need to change your sheets though.”

“Wow. So gentlemanly of you to offer to help.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath, clicking your tongue against your teeth. You stand up from the bed and your knees buckle beneath you, causing you to panic and immediately reach out and grab onto a surface to steady yourself, throwing the middle finger up in Matt’s direction when he chuckles.

He tells you to go shower while he takes care of the sheets and you immediately oblige, patting his arm in a quick thanks as you wobble out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, eager to clear yourself up after previous activities.

You take longer than usual to shower, taking your time to scrub your body clean and even wash your hair, not even caring about what Matt could be doing inside your home as he waits for you, but you pause your routine when you actually begin to think about your relationship with Matt.

It’s been almost three weeks since you started hooking up with Matt, showing up at each other's places whenever you’re in need of sex, getting it over and done with before hanging out properly, before even getting a bite to eat or binge watching a series.

You still sleep with Tyler. You’ve even fucked Tyler and Matt on the same day. Matt doesn’t care, of course he doesn’t, and personally neither do you. But there have been a few moments where you start to recall the amount of times you had chosen Matt over Tyler… and it was a lot.

You and Matt are supposed to fuck whenever you have no one else to go to. And yet, give the choice… you still chose Matt.

A loud call of your name and a fist banging against the bathroom door startles you out of your thoughts, “I need to piss. Hurry up!”

“Just come in!” You yell back at him, frowning as you face the stream of water to let the soap run off your body as you mumble, “It’s not like you haven’t barged in before.”

You hear the door creak open behind the shower curtain and you poke your head around just in time for Matt to unzip his pants to relieve himself, his head tilting back with a sigh of relief.

His eyes meet yours when he turns his head and his brows knit together, giving you an odd look. “What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” He blinks before giving you a quick nod. “Are you still fucking other people?”

“Yeah,” That answer relieves you a bit. “I was with Sadie last weekend.”

“I have another question.”

“Why are you—”

“I’m asking the questions,” You cut him off and Matt laughs, nodding for you to continue as he zips up his pants and washes his hands. “Has Sadie, or any other girl, been available on the same day that I’ve been available? Or asked you to come over?”

“Uh…” Matt ponders for a moment, bottom lip poking out his deep thought as he dries his hands on a towel. “Yeah, I think so.”

“And who did you end up choosing?”

“You.”

It shocks you at how fast he answers your question and you grip the shower curtain for support, the slippery floor of the shower almost making you tumblr. He chose you too… is that wrong? You’re uncertain and it makes you feel a little uneasy. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation to why you choose each other instead of fucking other available people.

“Why are you asking me that anyway?”

“Curious,” You answer quickly as you close the curtain to block him out and continue showering, ignoring the way he’s mumbling under his breath how strange you are. “Wait. I have another question.”

“Ask me when you’re down showering.”

“Why?” The tone of your voice turns sultry as you smirk, “Is knowing I’m naked behind this shower curtain turning you on?”

Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, his arm shoots out from behind the curtain, hand curling around the faucet tap to turn the temperature of the water, laughing like a maniac as he hears you scream from the cold water that splashes your skin.

You hated birthdays.

Actually, you hated your birthday.

You hated knowing you’re getting older each year, desperately wanting to go back to the ages where all you worried about was not making a fool of yourself in front of someone you had a crush on, or not knowing the biggest high school gossip about who was seeing who behind whoever’s back.

Now, at your growing age, all you worry about is failing college and not being able to get a good enough job to provide a future for yourself.

You wish nobody knew it was your birthday, but having such a close group of groups who knew you better than you knew yourself, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you almost spun around and darted out of campus when you saw Chris twirling a gift bag in hand with helium balloons that spelt out ‘birthday girl!’ in big, bold letters tied to his wrist.

“There she is!”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up.

“Happy birthday!” Chris yells loudly when you reach their circle, letting your backpack drop to the grass beside Tyler who looks up at you with a dopey smile. Chris shoves the gift bag into your hands when you finally sit down, huffing at the weight of the bag. “I bought you something.”

“I told him not to, I promise,” Nick tells you as he applies chapstick before he leans in close, “But as always, Chris doesn’t fucking listen.”

“And I never will,” Chris grins, untying the strip of balloons from around his wrist to tie them around your own, ignoring the dark glare you give him as he smiles at you cheekily. “Look inside. It’s all the essentials you need.”

“I swear to god, if you—”

“Shh,” He pressed his finger against your lips. “Less talking, more looking.”

You roll your eyes, swatting his finger away from your face before peering into the bag. A soft, genuine laugh leaves your lips when you first see two bottles of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a few chocolates, but you immediately cease all laughter and amusement when you see a pack of condoms and a Plan B box sandwiched between the pair.

Tyler peeks over your shoulder to drop a pre-rolled joint and a few gummies into the bag for later, but makes a funny noise when he sees the condom pack. He dips his hand inside the bag to pull it out, throwing it back at Chris who fumbles to catch it.

“Hey—”

“She doesn’t use condoms.”

Chris gapes, slowly turning his head towards you with widened eyes. He leans forward, nose brushing against yours as he speaks, “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?”

Nick yells and covers his ears, threatening to punch his youngest sibling in the throat as Nate and Tyler snort.

“Positive,” You giggle and pat his cheek, causing him to whine and slump back into his own space in defeat. “I’m thankful for the gifts, but please… you know I hate celebrating my birthday. And were the balloons really necessary too? Did you have to make it more obvious?”

Chris frowns, tugging at the string. “But the balloons are pretty.”

“She doesn’t like balloons, kid.”

Your head whizzes around so quickly you’re positive you could hear it crack at the speed, a grin spreading across your cheeks when you see Matt standing behind you looking at your balloons in disgust. But your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see Sadie standing beside him.

You greet her with a wave and she reciprocates, wishing you a quiet happy birthday which you thank her for and motioning for them both to join you in your circle, but Sadie shakes her head with an apology, announcing that she has to be somewhere else.

You watch as she places her hand on Matt’s bicep, asking if they can meet up later but Matt shakes his head, telling her that he already has plans and her face deflates for a moment before nodding, bidding him and the rest of you a goodbye before leaving.

Matt lets out a huff as he drops down to the grass, stretching out his legs and knocking his foot against yours, mouthing you a quick happy birthday and you smile in gratitude.

“Sadie seems to be hanging out with you a lot recently,” Nate points out and Nick nods his head in agreement. “You like her?”

Matt shakes his head, “No. She was just asking me if I wanted to do something this weekend.”

“Are you?”

“No,” Matt mindlessly starts plucking the glass, avoiding everyone's eyes as they zone in on him. “I don’t have the time. Got some assignments to finish for my classes.”

Hearing him say that he hasn’t got the time sparks interest in you, and you begin to wonder if Matt would end up asking you for some well needed release. It excites you, especially when you realise you haven’t been under him or on top of him in a few days and you press your thighs together at the thought of possibly getting dicked down sooner rather than later.

It’s a birthday gift, you say to yourself when you try to give an excuse to why you’re so needy to be fucked by Matt. It’s just a birthday gift… yet, you have Tyler right beside you, someone who’s easily available and someone who used to be frequent in giving you the best birthday sex of your life.

You could ask Tyler to come over tonight, but why wasn’t the question being asked? Why does it feel like you’re stopping yourself from asking something so simple and easy?

Perhaps you’re so used to sleeping around with Matt that it doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone else anymore. Tyler doesn’t seem bothered, maybe because he’s been getting his fix elsewhere too, so why does it bother you?

A quiet call of your name brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head towards the source, gazing landing on Matt who is looking back at you with a kind smile.

He shuffles further into the circle to get closer to you, voice dipping low. “Come home with me later? I have something for you.”

“What is it?” You instantly ask back, excitement evident in your tone. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of celebrating your birthday and receiving gifts, there was no doubt in your mind that Matt was probably one of the best people to receive gifts from, knowing he usually goes above and beyond to give you the most memorable birthday.

You smile when you remember the three-day spa voucher he gave you last year when he and his brothers had taken you away for the weekend, it was the most breathtaking cabin you had ever been to. The sunset above the lake was still photographed in your memory, so was the midnight drive he took you on when Chris and Nick were sleeping.

The sights were beautiful, and you were grateful to have seen it with your best friend.

“You’ll find out.” Matt tells you with a smile, refusing to give you a hint of any sort as he turns his attention to Nick to engage in a conversation. You pout, shoulders slumping in defeat and Chris knocks his arm against yours, voice teasing as he whispers in your ear;

“Looks like my gifts will come in handy after all—OW!”

“This is actually fucking ridiculous.” You giggle as you’re blindingly walking into Matt’s dorm, his hands covering your eyes to prevent you from seeing even though you’ve tried countless times to peek through the gaps between his fingers.

Matt’s chest rumbles against your back as he laughs, waiting for you to toe off your shoes at the entrance before leading you further into the room.

You have the layout completely mapped out in your head from the amount of times you’ve been at his place, already knowing that he’s leading you into the kitchen just by the cold marbling that you feel beneath your feet.

You almost trip as Matt shoves you down onto a chair and whispers a countdown in your ears before he removes his hands from your face. Your vision is blurry for a moment and you try to adjust to your surroundings with a few blinks, jaw dropping in complete awe as the splotches begin to disperse and you see what’s presented in front of you.

“Are you kidding me?” You whisper softly in astonishment at the gifts that are laid out across the table. You spot a few of your favourite scented candles stacked on top of each other, a bottle of perfume that you were one hundred percent certain that was sitting in your wishlist on an online store you were browsing a few days prior, and a miniature bag with the logo of your favourite jewellery store.

You feel extremely overwhelmed, the urge to cry becoming harder to keep at bay as your eyes water and string, throat tightening over how thoughtful Matt had been.

You turn your head towards him with your bottom lip quivering and Matt snickers, pulling a party hat from god knows where and advancing closer to you.

“You asshole…” You insult jokingly, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe at your eyes, hoping that the tears wouldn’t dare fall as Matt secures the hat on top of your head. You point to it, “Isn’t this a little cheesy?”

Matt rolls his eyes, snapping the elastic band against your chin for extra measure and you hiss at the slight sting it causes, punching his arm in retaliation but he pays no mind, smiling to himself as he turns his back to you for a moment to open the refrigerator door, pulling out a white squared box.

He balances it on the palm of his hand with ease, using his foot to kick the door shut as he makes his way back to you.

You’re grinning widely at the thought of what could be inside the box, even though you’ve already guessed it’s a cake. Your hands rub together excitingly as Matt places it on the counter and gently slides it over to you, the box still in his grasp as it stops in front of you, drumming his fingers on the cardboard.

Sensing your eagerness, Matt lifts the lid off of the box and the excitement on your face drops almost instantly, expressionless as you peek inside to see the miniature spongebob themed cake staring back at you.

You raise your head to see Matt already grinning at you, tongue poking at his cheek as he opens up a drawer to retrieve two plastic forks, twiddling them between his fingers.

You deadpan, “Are you sure we’re not celebrating your birthday right now?”

“Be quiet, you like spongebob just as much as I do,” Matt scoffs as he hands over one of the plastic forks and you take it with a smile. You go to cut out a piece for yourself but freeze when Matt makes a weird noise, gazing up at him in alarm. “Wait. Hold on—my god—let me take a photo first.”

You roll your eyes but happily oblige as Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and angles it towards you. You pose, pointing to the cake with a wide smile, almost blinded by the flash when Matt takes the picture and you immediately rub at your eyes, trying to get rid of the blotches while spitting a few creative curse words that make him giggle.

He quickly takes the opportunity of you being blinded to slide beside you, holding his phone high to take a selfie and you poke out your tongue, using your free hand to cup Matt’s cheeks while he rests his on top of your head.

Before you have the chance to complain about how hungry you are, you gasp in shock when you feel the coldness of the cake’s frosting rubbed on your cheek and the shutter of the camera goes off when Matt takes another photo, capturing you mid chaos as you dig your fingers into the side of the cake to smush a piece against his own cheek, grinning evilly as the yellow frosting covers his skin.

“Alright, alright. I deserved that,” Matt sighs with a lighthearted laugh, making sure his phone is tucked away and out of the icing zone. “Makes a good blackmail photo though, don’t you think?”

“If that goes anywhere, I will kill you.”

“You already know that’s going on my Instagram, sweetheart.” Matt teases you and you scoff jokingly, shaking your head as you reach for the napkins that are laying conveniently at the side, trying your best to wipe away the frosting before it drops and stains your clothing.

Matt manages to clean himself up pretty easily and decides to help you out when he notices you struggling, plucking a spare napkin from the pile and he takes a hold of your jaw, facing your towards him as he gently wipes at your cheek, careful not to rub too hard at your skin.

You’re suddenly awkward of the close proximity and you grow silent, watching as you cleans you up diligently. The concentrated look on his face is what causes your stomach to whirl and heart bloom with warmth, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze zoned in on the area he needs to clean, tongue licking over his bottom lip.

“Matt…” You call out his name quietly to grab his attention and he pauses, staring right at you. He seems to slowly take notice of how close you both are, taking in the limited space between you both and he goes to remove his hand away from your face but stops himself short with a noise, bringing his hand back to finish the job.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Matt whispers to you once he finally wipes away the frosting from your cheeks, smiling down at you with adoration swirling in his eyes and your breathing gets caught at the back of your throat for a moment at the sudden affectionate gaze, unsure of what to say or even what to do with him looking at you the way he is.

Your hands move up to take the birthday hat off of your head, dropping it to the side carelessly as your arms curl around his shoulders, pulling him into your embrace. Matt’s arms slide around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crevice of your neck and exhaling deeply.

“I’m so thankful,” You admit, squeezing him tight as the emotions within you struggle to be contained. “For real, Matt. I’m really grateful too… thank you for making this birthday special again.”

“It’s not over yet, you know…” Your hear him mutter in your ear and you go to pull back, to question him on what more he could possibly give to top everything else he’s down for today but he’s already bending his knees, arms falling low to lock around your thighs and throwing you over his shoulder with a huff, smacking his hand roughly against your ass as he carries your giggly self to the bedroom.

Friday nights will always be your favourite nights to let loose and party.

Dressing up in your prettiest outfit that makes you feel confident and sexy, decorating your body with the shiniest of jewellery you own and drinking the most intoxicated drink you could find while mingling with your friends.

Talking with your girls face to face after a week of classes had unfailingly lifted your mood, catching up with all the gossip you missed or only briefly discussed over the phone, finally adding your own two cents into situations which they eagerly agree with a nod of their heads, tapping their cups to yours before taking a sip.

“Speaking of unusual relationships,” Sarah, one of your dearest friends, turns to look at you with a grin, “How's it going with you and Matt? Have things turned awkward yet?”

“Nope,” You shake your head, buzzing happily. “We’re fine. The whole ‘hooking up with your best friend’ culture isn’t as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. Everyone gets dramatic about it for no reason.”

Kendall lets out a heavy sigh, nursing her drink in her hand, “I don’t know how you do it. I can’t even imagine hooking up with Isaac. I mean, he’s attractive, but we’ve seen and know too much about each other to get physical on an intimate level… props to you.”

Anna shifts her gaze to you next, “Do you still fuck Tyler?”

“On occasion,” You admit. “But honestly, I’ve been so wrapped up in assignments—”

“And Matt.”

You give Sarah a smirk, “I haven’t really had the time to call up Tyler and ask him to fuck. He doesn’t mind anyways. He’s been busy smoking and selling weed for some extra cash.”

“What about Matt? Is he still fucking around?”

You pause at that, lips pursing in deep thought before you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know. I haven’t asked recently if I’m honest.”

Kendall gestures over your shoulder, “Looks like you’re about to find out the answer.”

You crane your neck to follow the direction she’s pointing in, noticing Matt standing near a back wall with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Sadie who’s smiling, locked on each word he’s speaking to her.

Feeling your eyes on him, Matt looks up to meet your gaze, raising his drink in greeting and you grin, lifting your own cup before he resumes back in conversation.

You take in his appearance with interest; a black fitted tank top paired with some loose fitted jeans and shoes you’re certain he definitely stole from Nick’s closet. The silver chain deer hangs from his neck and silver rings adorn his fingers. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he looks good.

“Take it easy with the lovey dovey eyes,” Sarah teases, nudging your shoulder to bring your attention back to her and you laugh, tipping your head back to finish the contents of your drink. “He does look good though, so I don’t blame you.”

“When was the last time you fucked Matt?” You direct your question towards Anna who shrugs her shoulders in response.

“I don’t remember,” She smacks her lips together. “Definitely more than two months ago, that’s for sure… No disrespect to you but god, I miss his cock. How he walks around with that thing completely baffles me.”

Kendall’s eyes widened slightly, “Is Matt’s cock big?”

“Yes.”

You and Anna share a knowing smile and high give each other. You drone out the complaints Kendall makes about wanting to fuck someone with a big cock and how Isaac always sets her up with people who are both shitty in bed and lack personality, you being too focused on looking around the room to find a clear path to get more drinks and you dismiss yourself from your girls for a moment as you spot Nick and Tyler pouring vodka into each others cups.

You bound over to your favourite boys, throwing your arms around their shoulders and startling them with your presence, but Tyler hazily smiles you when he sees it’s you and presses a chaste kiss to your temple as Nick hugs you tight in greeting, offering to fill up your cup which you happily give him.

“Where have you been?” Nick asks you as Tyler takes your hand in his to twirl your around, whistling as he eyes your dress. “You look pretty.”

“Catching up with my girls because I spend way too much time with you guys,” You explain, but cheesily grin at the compliment you received on your outfit. Nick hands you your filled drink and you thank him, taking a quick sip as your eyes glance around the room, “Where’s the rest of the guys?”

“Chris is around here somewhere trying to get laid and Nate is talking to this girl he likes from his classes,” Nick informs you before he laughs. “Matt’s been talking with Sadie for the past hour—-sweet girl is trying to make her move.”

“And why aren’t you showing off your charms tonight?”

Nick’s face immediately drops, “Please. I’m done with boys. All they make me feel is absolute regret and disappointment.”

You smile in sympathy, “You’re looking at the wrong guys.”

“No,” Nick shakes his head. “They’re all the same. Everyone of them. Disgusting.”

You loop your arm around his, tugging him into your side, “What if I introduce you to this guy in my class? He’s tall… handsome… sweet…”

Nick eyes you, clearly interested in what you’re telling him and he holds his head high, “Maybe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Chris!” You greet him happily as he appears beside Tyler, staring at you all with a confused look but grins when you throw yourself into his arms to hug him tightly, swaying you both back and forth. “I thought you were trying to get laid?”

“I was,” Chris sighs as he pulls away from the hug, but keeps an arm wrapped around your middle. “But she has a boyfriend and he’s, like, scary looking and I didn’t feel like getting nightmares for life.”

You frown, patting his shoulder. “What a shame. The dry spell continues for you.”

Chris leans into your touch, batting his eyelashes prettily at you with a smirk, “You can change that for me if you want.”

Nick fake gags behind you as you smile, “In your dreams.”

Chris sighs jokingly, dropping his head low. “Guess I’ll keep on dreaming then.”

“Dreaming about what?”

The sound of Matt’s voice has you spinning around, beaming happily as your eyes meet his but it falters slightly when you notice the fake smile he’s sporting, wanting to question him and ask him what’s wrong but you bite your tongue, not wanting to bring attention to the subject, knowing it’ll make Matt uncomfortable putting him on the spot.

You reach out and touch his arm, giving him a comforting squeeze which makes him seem to relax, using your grip on him to tug your into his side and for Chris’ arm to slip from your waist.

“Chris is saying weird ass shit about her again,” Nick fills Matt in, wafting the smoke that Tyler blows in his face teasingly when he takes a hit of his joint. “How’s Sadie?”

“Fine,” Matt replies simply, licking at his lips as he turns to you. “Do you want to get out of here? Just me and you?”

Chris immediately takes offence to that, “What about us? What are you going to do without us?!”

Matt goes to answer but Nick immediately raises his hand, silencing him. “Don’t answer that. Just don’t.”

You’re in complete bliss with Matt holding himself above you, your back is arched, bare chest pressed to his as he nips and licks at your neck, his hips lazily grinding into yours, cock hitting deeper than he’s ever been.

The pace is slow, something that you’re not used to when it comes to Matt, but you don’t find the voice within you to complain, enjoying it a lot more than you’d admit with your fingers tangled in his hair, cries spilling from your lips with your legs hooked over his waist.

He’s grunting in the crevice of your neck with each deep thrust, one hand caressing the side of your face while the other finds a place beside your head, holding up his weight.

You’re whining from the loss of contact when he moves his head away, missing the feeling of his teeth against your skin, the slight stubble scratching your face and you look up at him pleadingly, but he’s frozen as he stares down at you, despite his hips thrusting automatically into you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so pretty…” You barely hear him mumble and your heart pounds against your ribcage at the complement, body feeling more heated and warm.

“Matt—”

He cuts off your words by planting his lips on yours with the most sweetest and softest kiss he’s ever given you, and you melt into the touch, fingers untangling from his hair to cup his cheeks in your palms, gasping through the kiss as Matt's cock cock slowly pulls out of your pussy before pushing back in, sending a shrill up your spine.

The band in your tummy tightens with each slow but powerful thrust he gives you, thighs shaking around his frame, unable to keep up with his kisses as your mouth falls open with short gasps and whines, white specks flickering in your vision as your feel yourself inching closer and closer over the edge.

“Cum,” Matt whispers, breath fanning over your face as he pants, “Do it. Cum on my cock.”

You wail as the band snaps, orgasm crashing down on you violently. Your body convulses, pussy squeezing around his cock, keeping him buried deep which has him moaning, his own hips stuttering as he cums. You feel him pulse inside you, filling you up with everything he gives.

Matt’s head slumps down on your shoulder as you try to steady your breathing, wincing as you feel him slowly move his hips back to pull his cock out of your sensitive cunt, your hand falling from his face to drop down at your pussy, gathering his cum that pools out onto your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Matt apologises against your skin, “I’m sorry, I—shit. I should’ve asked if I could—fuck. I got too overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s kind of cute that you’re apologising,” You admit, gently pushing him off of your body to sit upright. “But you don’t need to apologise… this isn’t the first time you came inside me, Matt.”

“I know,” Matt runs his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I usually ask...”

“Matt. It’s fine,” You reassured him, placing your palm on his bicep. “I’ll forgive you a thousand times more if you help clean me up though.”

Matt smiles and nods his head as he slips off the bed, disappearing out of the room for a moment and returning with a wet towel. He sits between your parted legs, gently cleaning up the mess, whispering apologies and apologies every time you wince when he presses down on sensitive areas, thighs closing around his hand which he carefully pries open to resume his job.

You sit in silence, watching him, frowning at the troubled look you see on his face, not used to seeing Matt being so closed off with his feelings and emotions, especially towards you. He hasn’t been open and honest with you in the past few weeks, he hasn’t come to you and asked for your reassurance or help.

It makes you feel a little bit defeated.

Something is different, and you struggle to pinpoint what it is.

The questions lay on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be brought to light and asked, and even more desperate to get the answers you’ve been craving. Your relationship with Matt has changed since the proposition you’ve made about sleeping together, but he’s still your best friend.

“What’s going on?” You finally ask and Matt freezes, fingers clutching the wet towel in his grasp tightly. “And please don’t lie to me… I can tell when you’re being truthful or not—”

“What am I to you?” Matt suddenly asks and you’re a little thrown off at your question being answered with his own question. He takes his hand away completely as you blink at him, feeling confused. “Even with all this going on… what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend?”

Matt seems to frown deeply at that, “So nothing has changed? At all? Even with us sleeping together? I’m still your best friend?”

“Wh—of course!” You’re baffled, assuming that with the way Matt is speaking about your situationship, that he is worried that you have gained some negative feelings towards him. It hurts you, and you’re eager to reassure him, to let him know that everything is okay. “Matt, you’ll always be my best friend. We promised nothing would change, right? I’m keeping that promise.”

Matt closes his eyes as his shoulders sink in defeat, “I…” He drops his head with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore.”

You bring your knees up to your chest, “Do what?”

“This,” He gestures between the two of you. “I just… I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t continue sleeping with you.”

“Oh.” You swallow thickly, feeling something heavy weighing in your throat. “Why?”

“Things have changed,” His voice is quieter now and it makes your heart shatter at the tone. Does he hate you? “I can’t continue whatever this is and be your best friend at the same time, it has to stop. It—” Matt sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” You mutter as your chin rests on your knees, hugging your legs closer to your chest to cover your modesty. You refuse to even look at him now, finding interest in the sheets below you as your throat tightens up more, feeling sick at the thought of him hating you so much that he can’t even continue sleeping with you. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me, but I—”

“Wait what?”

“—I’m just so sorry. Especially if I came across too forward and for putting you in such a position, I know you were so hesitant about this in the direct place.” You’re babbling now, unable to take control of yourself due to the overwhelming feeling that washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Matt.”

“Wait… I don’t—”

“Can we not tell the others right now?” You raise your head to meet his eyes this time. He’s looking straight at you, confusion and disbelief swimming in his irises but you ignore it, chewing the inner skin of your cheek. “Mostly Nick. I don’t really want to hear him laugh in our faces and give us the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he threatened us with at the start.”

Matt calls out your name and extends his hand to touch you, but you’re already climbing off of the bed, searching around for your underwear and dress that was thrown across the room earlier.

You’re too embarrassed to continue on with the conversation, to ask him what exactly you did to make him grow to hate you so suddenly. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to dwell on it too much, the pain of losing someone like Matt already making your heart ache.

You just wanted to go home—to be in the comfort of your own bed and curse yourself out, and probably cry to the point you might just forget everything that just happened. You are feeling a little teary, but you wouldn’t dare cry in front of Matt right now.

“I’ll, uh, see you around or something,” You sniffle, shoving the heels onto your feet and casting one final look his way. “I’m sorry.”

It’s been almost two weeks since your last encounter with Matt.

You shouldn’t be avoiding him like you are. It’s childish, you know that. But you can’t force yourself to face someone who used to be your best friend and now seemingly hates your guts.

Maybe you should’ve waited a few more minutes, to give him enough time to explain the entire situation and how he was feeling but you were selfish, you didn’t want to hear him explain in full detail what you had done to make him change his feelings towards you so negatively.

You miss him. Of course you miss him. For years he’s been your best friend—your other half, more like. There was no you without Matt and vice versa. You weren’t exactly sure on how you could continue moving on without Matt by your side, as dramatic as it sounds… but you’ve always been a little dramatic.

His brothers, Nate and Tyler have been blowing up your phone—-courtesy of you ignoring them too, not wanting to hear Nick rub it in your face on how the ‘friends with benefits bullshit’ you had with Matt actually did go to shit. You also didn’t want to hear the others continuously ask questions about what happened and what had changed.

Even your roommate, someone who keeps herself out of your business and hardly ever bothers you, had cornered you one morning at breakfast, asking why you looked so glum and why the ‘shirtless and tattooed Boston fuckboy’ wasn’t joining you both anymore.

You’re not the type to let anyone know your worries, so you’re surprised when you find yourself explaining to your roommate about what happened in full detail.

She gave you an unimpressed look, calling you a little stupid for not staying behind and listening despite you letting it be known that you couldn’t bear to listen to why his feelings turned negative towards you. Your face twisted and turned, offended by her harsh words but you allowed yourself to let her talk and not interrupt even though you desperately wanted to.

“You jumped to your own conclusion,” She told you when she was collecting the dishes. “You know, for two close best friends who talk to each other every second of the day, you have some major miscommunication issues.”

So, that’s what leads you to now; you sitting alone in the living room with your phone in hand, staring down at yours and Matt’s chat with your thumb between your teeth, biting down on the skin anxiously as you try to figure out how to start a conversation, to let him know you’re ready to listen.

from you: i think we should talk….

from matt: good because im almost at your house anyway. I had to go get something.

from you: ???? u coming over

from matt: yes from matt: i was going to make you listen to me from matt: its kinda important kid.

You snort at his message, sending a quick thumbs up emoji before throwing your phone to the side, awaiting his arrival. Your leg nervously shakes in the corner of your vision and your eyebrows knit together, placing your hand down on your knee and squeezing tight.

As if that will stop you from being nervous.

You’re about to hear the reasoning behind why Matt's feelings had changed for you so negatively, nothing can prepare you for it.

Just bite the bullet. Take it like a champ.

The rapid knocking on the door rips you out of your thoughts and your head slowly turns with a confused look sketched upon your features. Was that Matt? Matt never knocks—he freely walks in like it’s his own place usually, always making himself at home.

You push yourself up from the couch and make your way towards the front door, taking a peek through the peephole to see Matt’s form, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth nervously. You grow even more confused and concerned, pulling open your door to face him fully.

“Why did you knock—”

“Hate you?!” Matt suddenly cuts you off with a shout, startling you with the loudness of his tone. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, full of disbelief. “Hate you, I—fuck—how could I hate you?! I’d never hate you… god, you’re so frustrating sometimes.”

Your lips quirk upwards, “Nice to see you too?”

“I don’t hate you. At all. When I told you that things have changed, I didn’t mean anything bad by it… I pretty much meant the opposite…” Matt’s words trail off and before you can even get the chance to ask him to explain exactly what he means, air gets caught at the back of your throat and you struggle to speak as he pulls his hands from behind his back; a bag of candy in one and a handful of ripped up flowers in the other. Your heart thumps rapidly. “I’m going to tell you something and I just… I need you to listen to me.”

You barely whisper, “Okay.”

“Being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as I thought it would be,” Matt tells you, his honesty making you pull your attention away from the gifts in his hands to meet his gaze. “We promised each other that we’re not going to involve any titles to make it complicated for us… yet here I am, standing in front of you with the same candy and flowers in my hand from when we first met, about to confess my fucking feelings to you, I’m so—”

“You’re rambling.” You cut him off, a smile creeping onto your lips.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Matt laughs at himself, shaking his head as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck before he straightens out, keeping his eyes on yours. “I fell for you. Hard. I think I sort of realised it on your birthday but I didn’t want to say anything just in case whatever I was feeling wasn’t what I thought it was… but when we were at that party and I saw you from across the room, talking with your friends, I realised how much I actually do fucking like you and that it wasn’t just my dick talking.”

You snort as you repeat, “Dick talking.”

“Shut up,” Matt smiles at you, his own laugh fleeting past his lips before he sighs, “I like you. I’m falling in love with you, and I get it if you want to reject me because of how fucking weird this whole thing turned out… but I would actually like to continue being with you, not just as a best friend but as your boyfriend.”

You’re too busy repeating his confession in your head to notice that Matt is waiting for an answer, bottom lips tucked between his teeth as he bites down nervously, visibly shaking out of excitement or fear due to the fact he just confessed his entire feelings—you weren’t sure which one was right.

The silence from you kills Matt and his face drops when you step forward to quietly take the flowers and candies out of his hands, taking a step back inside your house. His shoulders slump in defeat, taking your nonverbal response as a rejection to his proposal of him being your boyfriend.

He goes to turn around, to get the fuck off your doorstep and drive home, hoping that the intense embarrassment he feels coursing through his veins is enough to make him disappear.

But he freezes mid escape when he hears the rustling of you ripping open the pack of candies, spinning around to see you looking at him with the prettiest smile.

He watches, heart thumping wildly, stomach fluttering with nervousness and excitement as you extend your arm out, angling the bag in his direction and a grin spreads across his face, unable to control the happiness that bursts from within.

You’re giving him a treat, you’ve giving him a relationship.

©sturnioz

#©sturnioz #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut

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joontroverted · 24 days

Text

of course other women want your boyfriend

pairing: nanami kento x reader

tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.

"your dad's kinda hot."

the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.

you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.

no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.

and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.

"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.

her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"

you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.

"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"

"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.

"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.

that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.

"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"

"there you are, sweetheart."

kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.

nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.

almost.

"ken!" you breathe.

"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"

"hey!"

his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"

"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.

"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"

"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.

"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.

"sweetheart, i think- "

you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.

"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"

"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.

"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."

she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.

kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.

"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"

aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.

you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.

"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."

his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.

deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.

kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.

"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."

warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.

"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.

aiko!

you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"

aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.

DO NOT REPOST

yay first fic!!!

likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷

#nanami x reader #nanami #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #yves tells you a story ✩🕯₊˚.📖⋆🌙⋆⁺₊✧

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hyunnie04 · 5 months

Text

cat and mouse

summary: your co-worker has been on your case ever since you've started your time at the company. a strange turn of events and circumstance changes all that.

pairing: coworker! lee know x reader

trope: enemies to lovers <3, office au

genre: slight angst, smut, and fluff

warnings: fem-bodied reader, oral, creampie, overstim, unprotected sex, bulge kink, spitting, etc. 18+ mdni

word count: 9.8k

a/n: a little practice piece for you guys, i hope i did well;; so sorry this took me so long to write :( i also hope it's cohesive enough, i keep writing this fic on and off sleep deprived lol

tick…

tock…

tick…

to-

“the clock isn’t going to speed up just because you keep staring at it.” the cubicle beside you chirps in, momentarily shaking you out of your thoughts. by now, you’ve trained to pay him no mind as you keep your focus on the clock that reads 4:56 pm, almost taunting you in a way.

a few more minutes and you’ll be home free for the weekend. maybe you can finally relax and get away from your dreaded paperwork. perhaps look through your shopping apps since you had nothing else better to do for the weekend, or better yet- you could run a well deserved bath with that bath bomb you always wanted to use but never got a chance to. all the possibilities sounded heavenly although all that would have to actually wait until you get home.

one other thing that you had been anticipating all day was having that dinner after work with jeongin- your close friend and coworker from a different department. he had been begging you for ages to finally try that one soba place that opened up nearby with him. you being a good friend, agreed.

“you might actually melt the clock if you keep doing that y’know.” your cubicle neighbor- lee minho smirks, now standing and leaning over your workspace.

"what do you want?" pointedly asking him.

"oh, nothing. nothing."

“you just don’t ever shut up, do you?” you deadpan and tilt your chin up to stare at him, minho just offers a sly smirk in return. he always liked to bother and butt into your business for some odd reason.

minho shrugs, “it’s fun teasing you. you do that thing where you scrunch your nose when you get riled up.” a vain visibly pops up from your forehead, but turn to your computer, hoping to drown him out with your typing.

you knew better than to give him a reaction. if you had a penny for how many times that particular vein popped from your forehead because of minho, you’d probably be a millionaire by now.

“oh, one more thing-” the brown haired man saunters back to his desk, and comes back to yours with a huge stack of papers. he unceremoniously plops it down, the annoying feline-like grin on his face.

“what’s…this?” raising an eyebrow at him, you hope it's not what you think he's planning. you have plans. he crosses his arms and pushes his framed glasses back.

“paperwork, of course.” you wanted to strangle him. “yes, i’m well aware that this is paperwork. why is it now on my desk?”

before you could protest any further, “they want this finished by next week.” he leans to practically whisper in your ear. minho grins mischievously after he sees your pink flustered face take a step back.

the humongous stack was already on his desk, so your boss most likely assigned it to him in the first place. you furrow your eyebrows and turn to him, worst fear coming true.

"ohh no. not in a million years." you get up from your seat, avoiding the offending pile. he starts going back to his desk, neatly placing his things in it's organizers.

“why can’t you finish it? you- what are you doing?” but minho was already grabbing his bag and blazer and looking at his wrist watch.

“would you look at the time- thanks for covering for me!” aaaand he's gone.

plopping down on your chair, you bury your face in your hands, stopping yourself from pulling out hair. frustration creases on your forehead. well, you could kiss that dinner with jeongin goodbye. now you definitely want to strangle him.

lee minho. if you were to find a personification of the word annoying, the brunette would certainly be it. that man has done nothing but annoy the hell out of you ever since you started your time in the company. other people in your department often regarded him as one of the most reliable and polite employees here.

you would inwardly scoff at the frequent mention of minho and his apparent “reliable-ness and politeness” since all he was, was just the opposite. to you at least. it was hard to believe at first.

but then you actually saw the way he carried himself with effortlessness and composure, handled business affairs, and how he mingled so seamlessly with fellow colleagues. it was nothing short of professional.

so you had a theory that he was only like that towards you. a complete dick only to you. you although weren’t quite sure why.

the girls in your department would often talk about him as well, mostly for his appearance. you really weren’t one for gossiping but you would listen in sometimes, curious about what they see in him. it was hard not to when they would gush about their workplace crushes and love lives so openly, a tinge of envy seeps through your bones every time it would be mentioned. you have got to get laid one day.

“he’s totally my type, you think i should ask him out?” your other cubicle neighbor says quite loudly during her break. her friend beside her shakes their head, “no, no you can’t.”

“why not? isn't he hot and available?” she asks absentmindedly. you start to zone out for a minute, only catching bits and pieces of their conversation. but you contemplate about what she said for a second, you would be lying if you said that lee minho was unattractive.

far from that actually. distinctly remembering catching a few glimpses of him from your first day, intrigued and interest piqued. his sharp nose and cheek bones, features were like sculpted by michaelangelo himself, his toned and lean figure accentuated by the perfectly well fit suit that he always seem to wear.

you definitely found him attractive at first.

that was until he started annoying you, so all of that was quickly out the window.

but you would probably end yourself before admitting that to anyone. you let out a disgruntled sigh, appearance wouldn’t really matter if he wasn’t such a knob to begin with.

as you approached your dimly lit street, all you could think about was that feline faced jerk. what was he thinking, dumping all that work on you last minute? you felt really bad about cancelling on jeongin, texting him earlier about the sudden change of schedule. the dark haired man you've come to know just replies with a little;

'we'll just try again next week lol'

you breathe out a relieved sigh, thankful that he wasn't mad. kicking the pebbles on the side of the road, you imagined that the little rocks were minho's face. you could not wait until you get home.

“stupid paperwork, stupid minho, stupid…”

your muttering fades and you suddenly stop in your tracks as your elderly neighbor waves you over from her front door, grandma lee or just grandma- as she insists you call her instead.

you bowed and greeted her, “hi grandma, did you need something?” you were quite close with the sweet old lady, her gray hair swaying lightly in the wind.

the elder would often check up on you after hearing that you traveled all the way from your hometown to the city, almost taking you in as her own. you were grateful for the company since homesickness would often creep up. she would also often bring you comically large jars of kimchi which you appreciated greatly.

she smiles as she gestures to the multiple bags she was holding, "i just need a little help getting these inside the house, dear." you take the heavy bags from her hands. what were in these, rocks? grandma claps her hands together in remembrance.

“have you had dinner yet? i made extra.”

grandma sets a bowl in front of you, the sight of seaweed soup instantly brings you comfort. your stomach grumbles as you dig in. she watches you intently as you practically inhale the soup, starved from the long and terrible day you had.

you sent her a polite questioning look. “i want to ask you for a favor.” she finally starts, flicking through the channels of her tv. the weather was on, the forecaster droning on about rain happening this week in the same monotone voice for the past 10 minutes. you look at her and nod immediately, she had done so much for you, doing a few favors aren't going to hurt.

“do you have a car, dear?”

blowing on the steaming hot seaweed soup, you nod again at her question, wondering where this conversation is heading.

“i need someone to drive me to my son’s house tomorrow, i'm staying over there for the weekend and my bags are a little heavy. would that be alright with you, dear?” you’ve heard about her family from her stories when she would have you over like now, little bits and pieces. you smile and agree.

a cheshire grin graces your features after a moment. “what’s in it for me?” it was a joke of course, grandma knew it too. having spent a large amount of time with her, your humor must’ve rubbed off at some point.

you didn’t expect her to actually answer but she replies, “actually, i’d like you to meet my grandson as well. i think you two would get along. he's the same age as you too.”

the aforementioned grandson was someone you’ve seen in a bunch of grandma lee’s hallway pictures. you remember that he was an only child, often the only kid and the lone subject in the photos. your favorite was the kid in red with a toothy grin. he must’ve been 5 when it was taken.

"it was a joke, grandma. i'm sure your grandson wouldn't want a stranger suddenly coming to meet him." she shakes her head,

"nonsense. that boy doesn't know what he wants." you laugh at her persistence. getting another bowl of rice, you ponder her offer for a second. maybe this could finally cure your dull and dry love life, it couldn't hurt to try. if worse comes to worst, you could just pretend it never happened.

“but of course, i’ll drive you there. i have nothing to do anyways.” you say with a mouthful of rice. grandma pats you on the back and continues to flick through the channels once more.

“thank you dear.”

the sunset blears through your windshield, sun rays momentarily blinding you. it was clear as day. the ride to her family’s house was relatively quiet, the elderly lady in your passenger seat preferred to sleep the whole ride through after handing you the address, giving you a moment to leave you in your thoughts.

pulling up to the neighborhood, you let out a low whistle. the house was at the end of the street, steep and uphill. it was surely going to be a struggle to get the car way up there.

you get to the curb, reverse and try to park your car as best as you can. the house was really pretty, you thought. it looked pretty lived in too, but in a cozy way. vines was sprawled all over the brick exterior and flowers had bloomed all over the property.

you wake up grandma and start to haul her luggage up and out the car.

"you go up, grandma. i'll catch up."

after struggling to get the multiple bags of luggage up hill, you finally waddle to the front door. the door was left slightly ajar, probably for your convenience. you took a quick peek around, hoping for someone to let you in.

calling out before entering, you were met with silence. you figured they were too busy catching up so you eventually let yourself in.

the furniture adorning the hallway and rooms were made out of wood, the handiwork and craftsmanship was evident, intricate carvings on each and every one of them. it must’ve been made by grandma lee’s son as you’ve heard from her many stories.

a ginger cat with white stripes greets you as you enter the front door, it strides over to you in intrigue. leaning down and dropping grandma's bags gently, you let the feline sniff your hand before allowing itself to be pet. soon enough it starts rubbing its body on your legs and purring loudly. adorable cat, you thought.

silence fills the house, aside from the soft chatter coming from the other side of the wall. the cat leaves it's spot, not wanting to be pet anymore. you sit up and observe the house again, noticing a myriad of family photos adorning the walls and some of the tables.

coming closer to one of the pictures, again, you encounter the same young boy in red but this time he was wearing a cap sideways and a puffer jacket that seemed to be way too big for him.

"hello! you must be y/n!" a feminine voice suddenly calls out from the living room. you straighten your back from the mention of your name, hoping she didn't catch you closely staring at their personal and probably private photos. grandma lee comes out from the living room as well and walks towards you with a younger and kind looking woman in tow. she had another cat in her arms, this time it's coat was gray with dark streaks.

you smile and greet her politely, exchanging pleasantries. you quietly pick up the neglected bags and place them near the guest room. they continue their conversation with each other from before, you now awkwardly standing in the middle. looking at your wrist watch, you figured you should probably head on home.

"i suppose i'll get going now, it was really nice meeting you." mrs. lee looked startled at your sudden announcement.

"why don't you stay for a while? it must've been a long drive here, you're probably hungry." these two women weren't related by blood but they practically were, having the same idea when it came to hospitality.

"well, i don't want to overstay my welcome. i'm just here to give grandma a ride." smoothening out your non-existent clothes wrinkles in apprehension.

she waves her hand in dismissal, "but you must stay, you're already here anyways." she grins and pats your back. mrs. lee didn't seem to budge at your refusal.

you relented, finally accepting her offer. "my son is in the kitchen whipping something up. he's a great cook." you totally forgot about her son being actually here. the joke offer from yesterday completely forgotten and flew out of your mind. slight embarrassment runs through you, realizing that the offer was somewhat serious. you would surely need to mentally prep yourself for more socialization than you've anticipated.

but you instantly believe her claim that her son was a great cook, the amazing and aromatic smell of what seems to be steak and multiple herbs and spices from the kitchen wafts through out the entire house.

"okay- while we're waiting," mrs. lee gestures for you to take a seat, "you should go sit on the couch, y/n. i've been dying to meet you."

she hands you a mug of hot tea and sits down next to you. "mom here talks about you all the time, thank you for keeping her company."

"it's no problem at all, i like her company too." and with that, the three of you fall into a smooth and comfortable rhythm of conversation. the younger of the two women across from you continues to poke and prod into life, not that you minded. she would ask you about your life, where were you from, where you went to school, and where you went to work and among other things.

she offers you stories of her son gleefully in return, laughing about a particularly embarrassing story when he was younger. you learned that he was quite fond and talented in dancing, loves cats, and loves to cook. oddly enough mrs. lee never mentioned his name at all, you didn't want to pry. now that you've thought about it, grandma hadn't mentioned his name at all either. all you had for a lead was initials you remember seeing etched on one of grandma's photos. you figured you'd meet this person soon enough anyways.

after a while, grandma lee retreats to the guest room they've set up, assuming that she'd want to fix her belongings. mrs. lee starts to drag you around the house, urging you to help her set the plates up and talk more while doing so. midway through placing the chopsticks on the table, the sound of pots and pans clanging from the other room shakes you out of your thoughts.

"mom?" a voice calls out from their kitchen. it must be her son. you slightly raise your eyebrows, he sounds oddly familiar but you can't place your finger who he might've sounded like. you quickly brush it off.

"yes?"

"have you seen the slow cooker?" the man finally reveals himself and pokes his head through the entryway to the kitchen.

you lift your head and lock eyes with the said person. shock freezes your movements, dropping the utensils that you were holding. blinking owlishly in surprise, you weren't sure if what you were seeing was real.

you feel the wind knock out of your lungs. this was not happening. the brown eyes, brown hair, and cat like face from work that you've come to dislike stared back. you must be hallucinating.

standing across from you was lee minho, the lee minho. grandma lee’s grandson. the same one that's been tormenting you all year round. you just couldn't believe it, wondering what kind of luck you had to end up here.

you think back to when you looking (--more like snooping) at grandma lee's framed hallway photos, the kid- that was him all along? you're really bad at recognizing faces, you thought to yourself. well, she certainly made him seem like a complete angel from the stories.

"oh! this is y/n. your grandmother invited her to eat dinner with us." mrs. lee pulls your figure closer into a side hug and beams at her son.

he furrows his eyebrows at you, glancing back and forth at you and his mother. he must be as confused and shocked as you are. "hi." minho says, nodding at your direction. you purse your lips and shuffle uncomfortably in place.

minho again asks where the slow cooker was since the first time he asked was ignored. he was wearing a loose fitting shirt, his broad shoulders looking more prominent. you realize you've never seen him outside of his work attire before. he looked comfortable, domestic even.

his mom says to check the cupboards, paying him no mind and continuing to set the table up. minho nods slowly, eyes not leaving yours and heads back to the kitchen. a little shell shocked about your little encounter, you clear your throat and go back to the task at hand. you'd just have to deal with this for the evening and then you could go home.

when the table was done, mrs. lee turns to you, "y/n? would you mind helping minho over there with bringing the side dishes to the table?" you freeze at the realization that you would have to interact with him alone.

"sure." you say meekly. she thanks you and goes to the guest room to presumably get the older lady for dinner. psyching your self up before entering the kitchen, his broad back facing you. he senses your presence and chuckles.

you were sure he was going to make this whole night unbearable.

"well, this is a nice surprise."

"what are you doing here?" stupid question from you seeing as this was his own house. mentally face palming your head, he hums smugly and starts dividing the side dishes onto smaller plates. you notice his very toned arms flexing as he puts the tubs away.

"i should be asking you that. i didn't expect you to be here." he says nonchalantly, but you could feel a sly smile forming on his face as he speaks.

"neither did i." you grumble and lightly shove him aside, wanting to get the side dishes out to the table already. you ignore the way he looks so domestic right now.

you stare at him from directly across the table, hoping he would keep his mouth shut. he smirks while he eats, purposefully riling you up and glancing at you with a knowing grin.

do not lose your cool, y/n.

silence rings out the dining room aside from the quiet clattering of utensils on plates.

"y/n?"

"i'm sorry?" you snap out of your little less than friendly staring contest with him.

"do... you know each other?" his mother finally breaks the silence and here eyes flickers back and forth between both of you.

"yes-"

"no-"

a full on headache is surely forming now, it's going to be hard to hide your annoyance. quick, think of a lie.

"we're coworkers. same company." you grimace as he answers for the both of you. no use in hiding it now. "oh! that's wonderful." the older lady to your right clasps her hands in delight.

"you didn't tell me you worked together." grandma turns to you grinning brightly. you avoid eye contact with her, nodding and forcing out a smile. you wanted nothing more than want the ground to swallow you up right then and there.

"you two must be close." his mother says, sipping at her drink. you were about to open your mouth to say that you really aren't actually, but minho beats you to the punch.

"we kind of are." minho rests his elbows on the table and turns to you. he's enjoying this. the bastard was enjoying this. resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back to finish your meal.

hatred for the man aside, he really was a great cook as mentioned countless of times. you actually find yourself enjoying the meal he had prepared.

"tell me what you two get up to at work, i want to hear all of it."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, being honest wouldn't be the best idea. you didn't want these two lovely women to know how much of an unpleasant man their son and grandson is. and it was his house after all, the best decision might be to at least be civil with him.

so you play along with his facade, not wanting to disappoint them even if it was probably going to bite you in the ass later.

minho starts cutting the meat up into bite sized pieces while the conversation between the two ladies continue. he places it on your plate without saying anything. this takes you by surprise, looking at his face for an answer.

the two audience members among the dining table seems to have noticed your little exchange. a wrinkly hand touches over yours catches your attention.

"oh, so are you two..." she trails off, implication heavy on her tone.

"no- no, grandma. i told you i wasn't seeing anyone." you shoot a discrete glare towards minho.

"ah, i see..."

you shrink down your seat for the remainder of the hour, embarrassment flooding your being. why did he have to do that? you were already practically fighting for your life not to get too involved with all this, and he pulls that?

after that very eventful dinner, it was already nearing 8 pm. you figured that you should probably get out of their hair, not wanting to disturb them than you already had. that bubble bath and movie marathon you had planned in your head sounded amazing right about now. maybe that would help you forget about this crazy night.

"grandma," she turns in response, "i think i better get going." you smile at her, digging through your pockets for the car keys. a different cat from the other two that you've met takes long strides, stopping by your feet. you greet it by petting it's head gently. you wondered how many cats they have.

"now? look at the weather dear," you look briefly at the window nearest you, surely enough it was heavily pouring. you deflate at the sight.

"i don't think it's a great idea to drive out in a storm." she looks at you in concern. crap. the conversation at dinner must've carried you away, not even noticing the angry rumble of thunder that came from the sky. she was right, you don't think you could drive out there immediately.

the last time you drove into hard pelting rain, you couldn’t see through the windshield and almost crashed your car in the process. you could still remember how your car swerved and screeched when you couldn't control the way the tires' direction.

reluctantly dropping your hands to your side in defeat, "i guess i can wait it out for a bit." you finally say.

"yes, please do stay. we made extra dessert!" mrs. lee chuckles, seemingly enjoying your presence. glancing at minho, he was leaning on the side of the couch watching the exchange between you three, uncharacteristically silent and expression unreadable.

you reckon he wasn't all that thrilled about the whole thing either.

"the storm isn't letting up." minho sighs next to you, observing the dark and heavy rain pelting the window. it continues to pour down, filing in the silence.

"great." you mumble lowly, crossing your arms. a loud cackle of thunder makes you jump from your spot. he just laughs in response. you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, anxiety quietly eating at you. damn weather man. you should've paid more attention to the forecast.

the smart watch on your wrist flashes with a notification. it was 11 pm now. "you should stay until tomorrow, dear."

you feel a comforting hand on your back, it was mrs. lee. it was only her staying with you two right now since grandma had already retired back to her room.

"tomorrow? oh, i- uh... i don't want to intrude." you stutter and look down, unsure how to accept her offer. but as much as you wanted to turn her down, you knew deep down you don't really have a choice in the matter.

another strike of thunder confirms your pitiful situation.

"i know what you're thinking, you can take minho's room." her words take you aback, that really wasn't what you were thinking. but she wasn't serious, was she?

at the mention of his name and apparent lending of his own bed, he whips his head towards his mother. he points to himself silently and gawks in disbelief.

you try to stifle a laugh at his ridiculous face. it wasn't often that you see minho all flustered.

realizing that mrs. lee might actually kick minho out of his room if you don't say anything, you decide to spare him. "that's okay, i'll take the couch."

"are you sure? the couch isn't the most comfortable..."

you reassure her that the couch is fine and not to worry. mrs. lee takes this as a confirmation that you'll stay for the night. she beams and grabs her son's shoulder,

"minho, do you have clothes that you can lend to y/n?" she catches you about to protest at the unnecessary offer, "don't worry about that, you're going to end up uncomfortable if you sleep in your clothes right now."

she leaves not long after with a quick good night to you both, also not leaving any room for any counter arguments. minho nods after registering what she said, hesitantly gesturing you to follow him towards the room at the end of the corridor.

he was quiet these past few hours, you observed. the annoying minho that you have gotten used to was no where to be found. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood. having a person that you dislike come into your home and spend the night would irk you as well.

the unexpected warm lighting and a subtle citrus scent with notes of jasmine and sandalwood welcomed you upon entering. it instantly brings comfort. not really expecting anything coming into his room, it was truly a pleasant surprise.

you stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, not wanting to touch or disrupt any of his space or belongings. he heads straight to his closet near his bed.

"it's alright, uh..."

minho ignores your attempt to refuse and starts digging deep for clothes that he could lend.

okay, nevermind.

you quietly glance at the homey decor that adorns the wall of his bedroom. multiple pictures of what you assume to be his friends were strewn all across the room. some of them seemed to be taken when he was in high school and some more recent. there were doing various funny and serious poses, minho seems to be really well liked.

"alright,"

he starts handing you a pair of black jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. you reluctantly take the pile of clothes from him, your fingers momentarily brushing. you were certain you could hear your pulse thump in your ears. it confuses you greatly.

"this is the smallest one i have, sorry."

he coughs and rubs his neck, "the bathroom is over there, if you wanna change."

awkwardly shuffling on the way to the bathroom, a sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you lock the door behind. why were you so affected by a simple touch of his fingers? this was minho. you quickly shove the odd feeling down.

you hold the white shirt up to your torso, it was definitely too big. the hem of the shirt reaching your thighs and sleeves reaching your elbows as well.

peeling out of your clothes, and hold up minho's large shirt to finally wear. as you put it on, you could faintly smell the cleanness of detergent and a faint musky patchouli scent. your cheeks burn with the realization that you were really going to spend the night here.

when you return to the empty main corridor, the leather couch was already set up with a cozy looking blanket and multiple plush pillows. you struggle to hide a smile.

tossing and turning, you struggle to find a comfortable position on the couch. the blanket proving to be too hot right now, you push it off. you check your phone out of boredom and the led screen lights up.

1:19 am. it was in the middle of the night and the rain continues to pour outside. the occasional rumble of thunder once again evoking anxiety in you. sighing, you don't think you will be getting any sleep tonight. it's just you and your thoughts for now.

thinking back to this afternoon, the whole situation seems so absurd and surreal. who would've thought that you and minho would pretend being friends even if it was just for one night. it was a strange chance of circumstance.

the door from the end of hallway opens, a scruffy and disheveled minho rubs his eyes to get rid of his sleepiness. you sit up in curiosity to observe his sleepy state. he pads over the wooden floors to the kitchen looking for water, not sparing you a second glance.

when he was out of sight, you start thinking of ways to distract yourself, wanting to already succumb to slumber.

“oh, it’s you.” he says after coming back, finally noticing your slumped figure. "didn't sleep yet?" minho ruffles his hair haphazardly, trying to smoothen it down. you shake your head,

"insomnia. it's the thunder."

"ah."

"the couch is making your neck hurt isn't it?"

"yeah, that too."

he opens his mouth to hopefully offer another solution, but shuts it immediately. he wasn't sure if it would make you comfortable so he just stands there quietly.

"i'll go get you more pillows." he places his cup down on the coffee table before going to his room. minho stops in his tracks when he feels your fingers tug on his shirt. another strike of thunder flashes outside making you flinch.

"stay." you catch yourself saying before even realizing. it's selfish to ask but you don't think you could stand the thunder alone. watching him stare into your eyes, as if looking for an explanation- you offer him no words.

minho takes a seat at the end of the couch silently joining you, sipping at his mug. to fill the awkward silence, you clear your throat and fiddle with the ends of the cotton blanket.

you start thinking of ways to justify your selfish request of making him stay.

"i finished that damn paperwork you dumped on me. dick move by the way." you chortled to try to lighten the mood. he seems to notice your attempts to distract yourself and indulge your sudden desire to chat.

he folds his hands on his stomach, grinning. his bunny like teeth poking out. you always thought it was endearing. "it's fun seeing you all grumpy."

"sadist." you simper, the anger you felt from a yesterday dwindling at the surprisingly pleasant banter.

quietness takes over again. he stares into the celling, pondering. "i didn't know you were close with my grandmother." he says after a while. he avoids your gaze and places his mug back on the table.

"neither did i. it wasn't deliberate," you reply. he turns to you, curious about the story. so you explain to him how you met, for how long and that you didn't even recognize him despite seeing the photos.

he chuckles, "i bet it was this pose, wasn't it?" minho imitates the very same pose that he did in the photo, eliciting another laugh from you. it was exactly the same.

minho shuffles a little bit closer to you, now propping his arm on the back of the couch. you straighten up, now being hyperaware of his presence and proximity. he looks really different without his glasses.

a furry tail suddenly brushes against your exposed leg. you lean forward to check what had just rubbed past you, it was one of the cats. it meows for attention, pawing at the base of the couch.

"your cats are really cute." you watch him pick the orange haired feline and place it on his lap. one by one, two of the other cats that you've seen this afternoon start padding over to where you and minho were seated, jumping on the couch.

"that's dori," he points to the gray furred kitty. "doongie," an orange cat with a predominately white underbelly, "and soonie." the last one who's also orange but more so than the other. minho raises soonie's paw, waving it at you. cute.

"this one looks like you."

you scratch soonie's chin, the low purring getting louder the longer you do it. minho stares longingly at your eyes with an unreadable expression at the comment. you're not paying any attention to him.

after a while, the cats start to get tired of the two of you. they walk of to the end of the couch, now ignoring you and minho. you fold your arms and relaxing into the back of the couch, falling into a deep and comfortable silence that would be sorely missed.

"why do you hate me?" you say abruptly. the curiosity finally won, anxiety gnawing at your every fiber of your being. it was finally starting to be peaceful between you two and actually talking like normal people, your sudden comment might've affected it's chances of becoming true.

his head whips towards your direction in what you assume to be disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows. "since when did i hate you?"

you struggle to not scoff at his blatant charade, "minho, you have it out for me." this was strange and ridiculous. was he really being serious? how could he not be aware of the months of months of his incessant attitude towards you, and only you.

you remind yourself to be calm, to be civil. but he continues to feign ignorance. it was starting to get difficult.

"you don't treat me like the others, you constantly make my life harder by teasing me, and you dump your own paperwork on me. only me. the only time you talked to me normally was just a few minutes ago." your voice rising with exasperation.

"what did i do?" voice ultimately faltering, tired.

"i-..." minho refuses to meet your eyes, offering no solace.

instantly feeling vulnerable by your little outburst and by the lack of response on his end, you hug and bury the plush pillow for comfort. you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home and pretend this conversation did not happen. confrontation wasn't your strong suit.

after a long while of silence, he at last utters a low, "i'm so sorry."

"that was very, very stupid of me." minho's eyes are now trained on the hardwood floor, unable to even glance at you.

"what? the paperwork?" you scoff, "no, not just that. all of it."

you furrow your brows at him, "i just find you really really cute when you're mad." he continues. you stare at him, incredulousness and anger painting your features. before you could give him a piece of your mind, he speaks.

"and i realized i didn't know how to actually approach you normally without the teasing." he purses his lips, the cup on the table long forgotten. minho is staring up the celling now, still refusing to look to your direction.

"would you also believe me if i said i was jealous?"

you don't know what to say in return, heavily processing what he just said. what was happening? your mouth runs dry, confusion knocking the wind out of you.

"of your friend." he says, emphasizing the last part. you try to rack your brain of who he was referring to.

"jeongin?" you tilt your head. he says nothing, confirming the assumption. "i overheard him talking to his friends, bragging about how he was gonna take you out to this restaurant that he wants to drag you to." you couldn't possibly think of a reason why he would be jealous, you and jeongin are just friends. and why was he jealous in the first place?

"why are you so worked up about it? he's just a friend, minho."

"i'm not even sure myself," minho shakes his head in exasperation and turns to you. "but i like you, y/n."

standing there, paralyzed at his unexpected confession. minho likes you? he was giving you crap all year round, and yet he likes you? you shoot him a perplexed look, "wait, what?"

"let me get this straight," you hug your legs, trying to decipher what he was saying. "so your plan was to annoy the hell out of me, dump your paperwork seeing that you don't want me hanging out with jeongin because...you like me?"

"well, now it sounds stupid when you put it like that." he huffs, crossing his arms and pouting cutely.

deafening silence falls between you two, unable to say anything meaningful without stuttering and fumbling through your words. you just sat there, not really saying anything and staring at the floor. realizing that you probably don't feel the same, he sighs. its about time he went back to bed too.

"it's late. you should probably get some-"

before you knew it you felt your pulse roaring in your ears, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from standing up. you were going to regret it if you let him go.

"i like you too."

a magnetic pull causes you both to inch closer together, wordlessly gazing into each others eyes. you make the first move to lean into him, slowly placing an experimental peck on the side of his lips. you unsurely place your hands on his chest, "is this okay?"

his eyes flickering down to your lips and then back to your eyes. he licks his lips, still staring intensely- lovingly at you. he softly grins, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears and returns the kiss on your lips.

eyelids fluttering shut, you feel him press against you with much enthusiasm, deepening the kiss. you cup his cheeks as a reply, roughly pulling him towards you.

you already forgot about the rain outside.

he hoists you up his lap, a hand on your waist as he trails desperate kisses on your neck. minho pays his attention back to your lips, sloppy and open mouthed, saliva stringing from your mouths. urgency and eagerness was reflected in the way you both tangle your arms around each other, touching and caressing every part that you could reach.

all of the unresolved tension was slowly slipping away, replaced by desire.

a sudden meow breaks the two of you out of your trance. the green eyes of soonie stares up at the two of you, sitting quietly and their tail swishing side to side.

you loosen your arms around his neck, you two bursting out in laughter at the interruption.

"do you want to maybe take this to my room?" minho asks, placing a thumb on your lips. you didn't need to think twice.

your head hit his plush pillow, the cold and crisp linen feeling heavenly against your hot and flushed skin. shuffling up to the headboard, you watch minho with hazy eyes as he inches towards your form and props his knee on the edge of the bed.

he smirks as he sinks down on the mattress, hovering over your feverish body. minho sneaks a hand behind your back, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over so effortlessly to the top as if you weighed nothing.

"now, where were we?" he murmurs into the column of your neck, his hot breath sending tingling and electrifying shivers down your spine. you respond by trailing your hands all over his clothed chest, wanting to get the offending article of clothing off.

he chuckles and grabs your wrists, halting you from doing so. minho kisses the inside of your wrist, a teasing smile dawns on his face. you look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, wanting to have him already.

minho adjusts his tight hold on you, biting his plush lips in anticipation. with you now towering over his figure, you lean down to capture the lips that you had been fantasizing about all evening and bury your hands into his hair. the kiss was wet and messy, your tongues sloppily and desperately swallowing each other's moans. a trail of saliva strings from both of your lips.

it was starting to get too hot for your liking. you cease your movements for a second to remove minho’s borrowed shirt from your body. minho’s eyes shamelessly rake over your chest, his finger leisurely trailing the middle of your breasts. you let out a low chuckle, finally unclasping the hook of your bra. you release a breathy shudder upon feeling something hard poking you from where you sat. grabbing both of his wrists, you eagerly put them up to your tits, you could feel your sensitive nipples harden because of his cold touch. minho starts pinching at the sensitive buds, prolonging his eye contact with you, clearly enjoying your erratic squirming.

you suck in a sharp breath and almost topple over him in pleasure as he takes a nipple into his mouth, hot, warm, and wet. it was overwhelming, having no one touch you like this before. he continues to lap at your hardening bud. minho groans, closing his eyes and further burying his head in your chest. your tits were covered in spit, glistening under the subtle light of his night lamp.

minho, while smothering himself in your chest, takes a moment to hook his arm over you. his skillful hands trail over to the waistband of your jogging pants and pulls it down. you oblige, leaning closer to him and lifting your hips so he wouldn’t have to leave your tits. you jump in surprise once you feel a light teasing smack on your now semi exposed ass, only covered by thin panties. it elicits a small moan from you, pulling his head closer. you lightly pet his head and thread your hands in his hair affectionately as he continues his sucking, feeling a coiling sensation from your core.

but before you could cum, he detaches from your breasts, leaving his lips glistening with his own spit and his breath raggedy. a sly grin that you have come to love and hate graces his face upon seeing you whimper. the lack of stimulation makes you deflate, heaving frustratedly at his relentless teasing.

the familiar throbbing heat from your pussy suddenly gives you an idea. his hungry gaze watches you in curiosity. the bulge you were currently sitting on now immediately taking all of your attention. you do an experimental hump on it, hoping to relieve the aching heat from your cunt. minho's hands fly to your hips, groaning at the sensation.

"all this time, you made me think that you hated me-" you moan out, the fabric of his pants providing just the right amount of resistance. "when really you liked me?"

he stifles his moans by biting his bottom lip, his pants surely soaked through now.

"i did say i liked seeing you mad." minho manages to grunt out, licking his lips. you almost reel in disbelief but you keep your composure.

"you're confusing." another thrust.

"and i'm still mad at you." you huff out. hips now wildly humping against every ridge and curve of his cock. the sight of him makes you delirious, even more so that you’re humping against him.

"i-i'll make it up to you," he murmurs lowly, hissing the more times you buck up against him. "fu-fuck..."

despite the way that you were using him, it does nothing to quell the horniness you were feeling, in fact, it even spurs you on further. the wet patch from your panties soak and slowly transfer on to the front of his pants, your own wetness spreading messily every time you grind on his delicious dick, the ridges providing the needed friction that you've been so desperately craving. minho watches you, your tits bouncing up and down- he feels like drooling. "i love it when you use me." he finally breathes out, hands still on your hips, his nails making crescents on your skin. and finally, you cum, his words sending you over the edge.

it tremors through your body, white hot cum leaks out from your panties and you can’t seem to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on his broad chest. you clench your eyes shut in shyness, suddenly embarrassed from using minho so blatantly. he coos and pats your head in comfort, almost like how he pets his cats.

planning to make it up to him and eat his words, you sit up and shuffle down his hips. you admire the wet patch that stains his front, mouth watering. this surprises him, watching you with tantalizing eyes. you make a move to grab at his waistband, pulling it down slowly. he hisses out in pleasure as the waistband runs over his still clothed dick. minho’s boxers were thoroughly wet, you could see a dark patch on the front where you sat on him and where precum leaked out. you lift up a hand to experimentally give his bulge a tight little squeeze, him letting out a little shudder response.

it hardens even more under your touch- so you decide to tease him to test the waters even further, running your fingers over and over his tent causing him to hiss out, sending you a warning look. taking this as a sign, you lift the waistband of his boxers and stare at his eyes while doing so. it springs up immediately after freeing it from its confines. his long and fat cock stands tall, the tip a deep red, and the veins prominently running along the sides. the sight makes your mouth water in anticipation. you place a thumb on his cockhead, running slow circles on his slit causing it to drool heavily on your hand.

his cat like mouth parts in ecstasy once you start teasing the underside of his length with your hand and licking the oozing liquid up. minho’s hips start thrusting at the sensation, forcing you to hold him down. it was admittedly hard to do so, his thick thighs almost the size of your head but you still managed to restrain him from rutting wildly. the groan that leaves his lips sound is absolutely nothing short of sinful when you finally put your mouth on him. every desperate huff from him leaves you light headed, wishing you could record and replay it over and over again. when couldn’t fit all of him, you resorted to pumping the remaining of the shaft were you couldn’t reach. you egg him on even further by running a hand over his abs, seeing how his thighs and abdomen tense up.

you look up through your lashes to watch minho unravel. his eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the stimulation. while it bobs messily in your mouth, you try to pay special attention to his hot and heavy balls, rubbing it back and forth in the palm of your hand, hoping to get him to cum. minho closes his eyes shut again and tenses his thighs, finally cumming. his hands travel down to grasp at his length, taking it over yours, spurting his essence everywhere. minho finishes with a loud relieved groan, slapping his dick lazily against your cheek which you greedily lapped at.

“that might be the best head i’ve ever had, bunny.” he bites his lips, his voice light and airy. you quickly sit up from your position and gawked at him, suddenly feeling bashful at his apparent pet name for you.

minho gives you a mischievous cat like grin in return, feeling absolutely delighted at your expression. he begins to lightly graze your leg, leaving tentative touches and gentle pecks along the stretch of your lower limb. lifting your right leg up, you stop minho from inching any closer towards you by putting your foot on his chest.

"y/n..."

you pretend to think for a moment, stretching this out for as long as possible. he would just have to wait since he had yet to make up for being so mean to you. a little fun also wouldn’t hurt, right? no, you were quite wrong.

minho again grabs your ankle albeit more roughly this time and continues to place chaste kisses with more passion this time, clearly adamant about giving your legs and thighs hickeys. at long last, minho slides the wet and abused fabric off you, the panty is thoroughly soaked and it’s material sticking and clinging to your core.

he hooks ur leg over his shoulder, urging to part your legs apart and spreading them obscenely open. staring intensely into your eyes, minho starts teasing your core with feather light touches. “you like this?” he says his mischievous grin, continuing his ministrations. you offer him no response as he traces figures and shapes on your wet pussy that has you seeing stars. his fingers now erratically sliding up and down your folds. you almost sob at his nonchalant teasing, eyes clenching shut and begging him to put something in.

something about observing his veiny hand treading lightly just the outside of your lower lips leads you to tuck your face into your hands, the sight was like straight out of porn. “no, no. hands up bunny.” minho takes a hold of your wrists, putting them effortlessly above your head.

“you have to look.”

his free hand drags along your legs to pull them apart and starts lowering his chiseled face down to your core. his nose just close enough to feel the small exhaling puffs of hot air on your pussy, causing it to twitch in suspense. the brunette sneaks a peak at your trembling figure before diving right in, the first contact of his tongue on your cunt was searing hot, instantly making jolt out in shock and cry out. minho takes this as a sign to hold down your hips, pressing, flattening, and letting his tongue rampant against you all while avoiding your clit. he hums at the taste, huffing and delving further into your pussy, eating you out with such intensity, placing open mouthed sloppy kisses. he spits to make your pussy wetter so he could languidly and erratically make out with your cunt.

you throw your head back into the heaps of pillows behind you as he starts to pay attention to your clit, softly biting the bundle of nerves. minho then moves to swipe his index up at the large amount of cum and spit trickling from your core, using it as lube for his fingers. he gently prods his index in your entrance all while still licking you up. his long fingers, deliciously stretching your hole, deeper than all those nights you've tried to do so yourself. the bliss you were feeling was overwhelming. minho croaks out a little ‘hah, hah, hah…” every time he would come up for breath, completely drunk off your musky and intoxicating scent. you also don’t miss how he subtly humps the bed sheets he was lying under either. you began to arch your back upon hearing his desperate sounds, your arousal spurting on his face.

minho looks like a cat who got the cream, his pupils blown wide open and wetness trickling down the side of his mouth. he lets go of your hands after you were finished, the numb arm falling on your forehead as you catch your breath. he stands up to re-adjust your form on the bed, pulling you closer to his pelvis.

minho stares at your eyes, asking silently for permission. you look up at him with a toothy- fucked out grin.

the feelings that you couldn't place earlier was now clear, you wanted him.

minho reaches a hand over your face, caressing your flushed cheeks. he wordlessly leans to tenderly place a kiss onto your forehead and on your lips. you reciprocate lovingly, capturing his lips once again. minho without warning, pushes his long and girthy dick into you, the abrupt intrusion making you sob out. the bulbous head of his cock rubs deliciously against your gummy walls, you swore you could feel it in your throat.

“there we go. there we go…”

minho sets a rough pace, his hips thrusting against your pelvic bone. “ah-ah!”

toned and skillful arms cage you in, forcing you to look deep into his dark pools. "you better keep quiet, or else the whole house will hear you." that for some reason makes your cunt even wetter, weeping more than you thought was possible. the sole idea of getting caught with their precious son doing such lewd acts, it seems sacrilegious and absolutely sinful.

he once again reaches for your hardened nipple, tweaking and pinching the bud between his thumb and index. the bed was now creaking with how fast minho was going, you silently prayed that no one in the house suspects anything. the thought mortifies you.

minho leans against your figure and nuzzles up on your chest, looking up at you with an oh so innocent grin while he continues to pound your cunt. his movements start to stutter once he feels your walls clench around him. your mind begins to feel like mush but you still try to make an effort to suppress your groans of pleasure. a strangled sound between a moan and a whine leaves your throat once he hits that one particular spot in you.

“keep quiet, little kitty.”

you start squirming uncontrollably at the huskiness of his voice, not having experienced an intense orgasm like this before. “cum, you can do it.” your rutting hips stop to convulse for a moment, feeling your orgasm rip through the ends of your nerves. leaning back on his chest, you struggle to catch your breath, heaving from the aftermath of your orgasm.

fogginess still clouding your vision, you caught a small glimpse of minho to notice that he still hadn’t pulled out, his hands circling your waist gently. you unintentionally clench on his cock, yep he was still hard, very hard. minho sets his eyes on you, and gives you that look. oh no, you knew that look. the same one that he uses around the office to persuade a higher up to heed to his request. you nibble on your lower lip in excitement.

“one more, you can do one more right?” he coos, lifting your legs and his hips starting his monstrous once pace again. you double over in overstimulation, crying out in pleasure. his breath hitches after a particularly hard thrust, choosing to muffle his own cries by shoving his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your exhilarating scent. you respond by coyly playing with the hair on his nape, hoping that it would ground you to reality.

minho then sneaks a hand from below you and hugs your figure, pulling you impossibly closer. he swallows your moans, kissing you feverishly and running his hands wildly all throughout. it was so urgent, so intense, like he’s finding a way to meld your bodies together, his erratic and messy thrusts reflecting that.

your fingers clutch his thick bed sheets, euphoria piercing your body every time he drives another rough thrust into you. the lewd noises coming from the two of you echos and bounces off the walls, the conversation tomorrow morning was going to be so humiliating and awkward at the dining table.

you can’t hold it in any longer, and by the looks of it, neither can he. minho cums with a loud groan, spurting inside you. "goooood kitty." minho rasps out. you gape at the warmness, causing you to finish as well. minho reaches his hand downwards to spread your combined release, spreading it messily. it drips out of you obscenely as he pulls out.

you were positively flushed. he was too, sweat still glistening on the wide expanse of his chest and forehead. minho brushes your hair back affectionately before plopping down tiredly next to you. you turn to him, wanting to admire his fucked out features but he looks occupied and staring into space.

“what's the matter?”

"i really am sorry about the misunderstanding. i feel terrible that i made you feel like that. and i do really like you. wasn't lying about that." minho sighs out, closing his eyes for a moment and then faces you. “i want to start over, properly this time.”

"apology accepted. and yeah of course." you say, quite happy with how this whole misunderstanding turned out. "i really like you too." he kisses the top of your head, making you wrap an arm around him to cuddle.

"now you'll just have to figure out how to reject the girl beside your desk. she wants to ask you out."

"maybe we can start by just making out in front of her."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids hard thoughts #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst

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alastors-antlers · 3 months

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a brief take on the whole "Alastor's smile is permanent" discussion

hello all!

I've seen a lot of people theorizing lately that Alastor actually smiles all the time because his smile is magically, physically fixed onto his face. All of this seems to come from the fact that he's practically grimacing rather than smiling during the scene where he breaks down in ep8:

As well as this frame of his deal with Charlie: (lower res sorry)

I will say, I do like some of the implications of this theory. The sheer spite of his creditor forcing him to smile as an addition to their deal, almost like a sort of forced silence, is a neat concept. It's fun and dramatic. Plus, of all things, of course Alastor would claim the "smile at all times" policy and make it his own to pretend that it was his decision all along lol.

To be fair, though, I don't think we even need any magical compulsion to explain why he's smiling while he's having a mental breakdown. Actually, if we assume magical compulsion, I think we lose a bit of dimension from Alastor's character. (No judgement to anyone's take though, of course -- I just think this works in the direction of his established characterization, but obviously all personal takes <3)

Hear me out:

Alastor's persona is not just for others to see.

"A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends; keeps your enemies guessing; and ensures that whatever comes your way, you're the one in control."

That makes sense given what we know about him. If he's always smiling, he seems like he has it together. You can't read him very well, especially not when he's actively trying to keep up appearances.

Now consider that when you think about ep8's fight with Heaven, we see that he's already been through so much in this one day.

He fights an army of angels, presumably not even at his own whim (if we go by his blurb about freedom in the Finale song); he loses to Adam, who he considers sloppy and mediocre; his staff, which we can assume holds some part of his power, is snapped; he comes close to being Angelic-power-killed; and to top it all off, he knows that others watched him get injured and then apparently die or flee, all of which would ruin the public image that he's trying to maintain. It wouldn't even be unreasonable for us to assume that he knows Vox was watching, given that Vox kind of has eyes everywhere.

In a moment like this, in the finale, you could say that Alastor has lost (at least on some level) everything that we know matters to him. He doesn't have access to all of his magic, and it's limiting him. He's reminded that he doesn't have freedom or control over his own destiny. He certainly has taken massive hits to his powerful, composed persona. But he's desperate, and furious, and terrified, and clinging on.

That's why he's smiling.

It's not that he can't stop because he physically can't. It's that he can't stop because to him, the smile is the last thing that is still within his power. When there are so many moving parts that he can't predict what happens to him next, he can control how he responds to it. In these last fragments of autonomy, there is solace.

He needs to keep telling himself that he has it together and that he'll eventually scheme his way free, that there's a solution, that he won't be in chains forever; because letting his pretense slip would be admitting that it's all starting to actually get to him. That maybe this time, he doesn't have an escape plan.

In addition, if you read his interactions throughout the series, we also see something else: Alastor's reputation is of paramount importance to him. At multiple points throughout the series, when others disrespect him by discounting his power or presence, he gets visibly annoyed. And in the battle, we see a glimpse of the part of his personality he seems to be trying to leave behind - a normal Alastor, who's just some guy from Louisiana. No transatlantic accent; no unflappable malice; no sharp wit waiting at the ready. Maybe even unremarkable.

Dropping his smile - arguably the most prominent part of his brand - would be admitting that in reality, he's not the Radio Demon of legend that he aspires to project. And if he doesn't have that... where would he be?

#alastor meta #alastor analysis #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor meta #hazbin meta #hazbin alastor analysis #bro I love this guy so much

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hoshigray · 1 year

Text

Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?

A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!

Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.

Wc: 4.9k

"Oh look, your favorite is here."

10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.

Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.

You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.

A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.

Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.

And you smile back as you walk towards him.

The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").

It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.

"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."

You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.

"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"

An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.

Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.

"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"

"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."

"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."

You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."

Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"

You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."

"I could also help you."

Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."

Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."

"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."

Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.

Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.

"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"

The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."

You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."

Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"

He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."

"Yes?"

Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.

He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.

"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."

All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.

"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"

If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.

"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."

You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.

"My good girl."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.

For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").

Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.

But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.

Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.

And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.

It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.

Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.

During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.

Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.

You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.

So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!

You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.

Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.

Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?

You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.

It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?

What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?

You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.

Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.

"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"

"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."

"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"

His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."

"That bad?"

He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.

Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."

"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."

"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.

A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."

"And?"

"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"

There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.

"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"

He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.

But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"

Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.

Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."

The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.

"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"

Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.

You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.

"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."

"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"

You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.

"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."

He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.

"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."

The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.

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That little prayer did absolutely nothing!

Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.

And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.

"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.

"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.

"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!

You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.

He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.

Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.

When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.

Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."

He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.

I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.

You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.

"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."

Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-

A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.

"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."

"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.

"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"

"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.

Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.

The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.

Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"

"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"

Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."

You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"

"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.

You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.

The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.

"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."

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"Did I say that I want your babies?"

You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.

He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."

"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."

"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."

Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"

"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."

You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."

The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.

Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.

"No problem, kiddo."

4K notes · View notes

daemour · 14 days

Text

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees. You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

645 notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 5 months

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙no saving u | LS2˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: logan sargeant x piastri!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, break up, brother's best friend/childhood friends to lovers

warnings: trigger warning many max verstappen mentions unfortunately /j

summary: in which they are pulled together following a particularly messy crash during the last race of the season and an even messier break up

a/n: i got this plot as a request and i love it ahhh i linked the request below!!! hope u guys enjoy i lowkey luv writing logan fanfic especially when max loses something 😆

request!!!: max is getting too cocky and dangerous on the track and he knows you disagree with his antics which causes tension between you, he continues his dangerous streak even though he’s just had the pit lane rules changed for abu dhabi and ends up crashing into logan during fp2, you’ve had enough of max putting himself and others in danger whilst he’s on an ego trip and rush to check on logan after he’s been taken safely from his car and end up going to the hospital with him (you’re childhood friends because he did karting and f3 with your brother), you leave max that night and end up spending more time with logan as he recovers, the summer is spent exploring your new relationship and you go public when you’re spotted in his paddock in 2024, max is humiliated beaten by the worst driver on the grid in his opinion, he’s finally humbled, you could also maybe have logan doing better as he’s had an opportunity to be involved with the cars development, and he even gets a couple podiums in his sophomore year :)

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 47,038 others

yourusername life lately:)

view all 2,012 comments

maxverstappen1 the true artwork is you!

oscarpiastri cringeee

danielricciardo he's trying

yourusername max verstappen most bullied f1 driver on the grid

logansargeant assuming we will see you in the williams garage in abu dhabi

maxverstappen1 no!

alex_albon it's our turn

oscarpiastri nope it's our turn

yourusername shame it's none of you lot's turn. you will see me in mercedes perhaps

lewishamilton i always win

georgerussell63 😊

user1 y/n x f1 2023 grid interactions are my absolute favourite

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted stories

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 10,384 others

maxverstappen1 wont you swing by?

yourusername yes of course hehe i will come see you before free practice 🧡

alex_albon u didnt cheat but ur still a traitor

yourusername 🐱

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 12,321 others

maxverstappen1 you are ignoring me

yourusername i just dont want to talk right now

maxverstappen1 why? you didnt even see if i was okay

yourusername i knew you were okay

yourusername im just very upset and angry it wouldn't be productive to see you right now

maxverstappen1 you are not coming back to the hotel?

yourusername no so dont wait up, i'll see you tomorrow

maxverstappen1 okay i am sorry y/n

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 64,734 others

yourusername im only welcome in one garage now

view all 3,294 comments

logansargeant this is literally false information

lilymhe she knows where she should be

landonorris im so lucky i get to see y/n before every race now

oscarpiastri you literally told her she stinks like 5 min ago

yourusername oh great thanks maybe im not welcome anywhere

mclaren we love you y/n

liked by yourusername

mercedesamgf1 you know where to find us y/n

liked by yourusername

user11 the caption...... is this a break up confirmation bc she isnt welcome at rb garage anymore

user12 i love how all the teams fight over her lol

f1wagupdates

liked by yourusername, user10, and 13,384 others

f1wagupdates we are gathered here today to mourn the alleged death of f1 couple max verstappen and our favourite aussie y/n piastri. please leave your respects below 🙏 we are celebrating with some of our favourite maxy/n moments!

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1

view all 3,283 comments

user13 wag death 🙏

liked by yourusername

user14 one of my favourite couples😢

user15 dont cry coz it's over.....

user16 this has rattled me

user17 the caption CELEBRATING? Hahahah

f1wagupdates whoops freudian slip

user18 😭 i will never know peace

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, and 8,743 others

carmenmmundt dodged a bullet 100%

yourusername then why does it feel like i got hit anyway 😐

carmenmmundt you are so strong y/n/n

yourusername somehow it's worse because he would have me back if i asked lol

carmenmmundt omg he has no idea what he lost .. you are going to be thriving whilst he is flopping by next season i promise

yourusername i hope ur right 😀

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 24,924 others

logansargeant vacation time 🏝️

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

view all 4,283 comments

yourusername vacay vacay

oscarpiastri baecay baecay

yourusername ur so weird

oscarpiastri noo hahahh ..

user19 "baecay" what does that mean 🤔

user20 not oscar shipping his best friend & sister together 💀

user21 love seeing y/n hanging out with everyone now instead of being hidden away in max's dungeon

yourusername DUNGEON i just shrieked

user22 😀😀😀 im fine

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 284,929 others

danielricciardo woohoo woohoo woohoo

tagged: yourusername, lilymhe, landonorris, alex_albon, oscarpiastri

view all 13,294 comments

user23 omg more y/n x grid content

yourusername yoohoo

danielricciardo hi y/n

yourusername hey 😄

lilymhe my fav ppl

landonorris should we all give up our seats and hang out 24/7 instead

alex_albon no

danielricciardo no

oscarpiastri no

yourusername yea yay!

lilymhe yes wahoo

user24 i wish i was their friend

user25 max verstappen found dead

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 454,183 others

charles_leclerc what we've been up to

view all 17,064 comments

user26 y/n & charles taking a flight together🥹

user27 omg she is everywhere loll

yourusername exposing my weird airline meal

charles_leclerc still dont know what it was

oscarpiastri lol flying with y/n/n is an experience

user28 who is y/n dating im confused ??

user29 no one her & max just broke up but she's oscar's sister so she's always been friends with a lot of the grid

alexandrasaintmleux i can't believe u saw y/n without me

yourusername 😭 i miss you

alexandrasaintmleux get on a plane now

yourusername i genuinely will

charles_leclerc dont steal my gf

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, and 14,204 others

lilymhe oh hello

yourusername 👀

carmenmmundt excuse meee mrs

yourusername perhaps you were right

carmenmmundt not surprised

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 27,924 others

logansargeant ...where should we go next?

view all 4,193 comments

user33 looks like y/n .. anyone else?

user34 that is deffo y/n

user35 why would we assume y/n is dating logan everyone has been posting them hanging out with her lately

danielricciardo go to japan

liked by logansargeant

user36 aww daniel giving travel advice

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and 18,204 others

yourusername new favourite place

tagged: logansargeant

view all 6,283 comments

user37 omg not them going to japan because daniel told them to

user38 i rly think logan & y/n are an item

user39 aww she is having so much fun since the breakup

danielricciardo did not expect u guys to actually go where i said

yourusername we were feeling crazyy & impulsive

oscarpiastri come home im bored

yourusername make some friends

oscarpiastri why make friends when i have u

user40 lol i love their sibling relationship

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 4,294 others

carmenmmundt omg this is giving hard launch

yourusername 😭 this is special circumstances

logansargeant couldn't have done it without you

twitter ->

instagram—

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, carmenmmundt, and 17,294 others

yourusername bahrain bahrain p.s he was tired after getting p3

tagged: logansargeant

view all 7,294 comments

oscarpiastri just got the strongest urge to bully you for this post

yourusername u hate to see a girl win!! ur a misogynist or something

landonorris u didnt win anything y/n

logansargeant she won my heart actually

oscarpiastri omg.... lose my number.

yourusername lose ur seat!!! ur a b word

user44 not them arguing over literally nothing

mclaren we're on your side, y/n

yourusername i will always be a mclaren girl!

user45 lol y/n x grid interactions own my heart

user46 i love her relationship with mclaren in general

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 32,294 others

logansargeant me and my gf in murica

tagged: yourusername

view all 11,284 comments

yourusername 🦅

oscarpiastri you hate america

yourusername no need to mention that rn

logansargeant ???

lilymhe never been so happy

liked by yourusername, logansargeant

carmenmmundt i told you so, y/n

yourusername you did :)

logansargeant dont know what you told her but thanks 👍

user48 AHHHH i love y/n

logansargeant you and me both

yourusername WHAT?

oscarpiastri that's my sister bro

user48 omg what did i start

alex_albon oh shit

logansargeant urmmmm

yourusername i love you too 😜

carmenmmundt 🥰🥰

THE END 🤍

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #smau #daniel ricciardo #alex albon #lando norris #charles leclerc #logan sargeant #ls2 #max verstappen #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #maddie's smau

1K notes · View notes

satorusluver · 6 months

Text

Wanna Bet?

Satosugu x female reader

Minors DNI

Tags/Warnings: smut, threesome sort of, slight breast play, alcohol mention (they're sober tho), princess as a nickname because it's my weakness lol

Word count: 800 ish

A/N: Idek what this is, it was just a scene in my head that's been sitting in my drafts so *throws it at you and runs*

You stare down at the panting mess of your friend Satoru under you. He's sprawled out on the bed, white hair blending in with the pillowcase. His hands are gripping your thighs and his fingertips lightly dig into the soft flesh as you grind back and forth on him, the outer lips of your pussy sliding up and down the length of his hard dick. You've been doing this for a couple of minutes now, never working up the courage to actually put it in. It's clearly getting to Satoru, who looks like he'd be about ready to start begging if his pride would let him, which it won't. But now he's chewing on his lower lip almost hard enough to break the skin, and his icy blue eyes keep rolling back as he gently grinds up against you. The stimulation feels good, but never quite enough.

"I don't know what you're so afraid of, it's not like you're a virgin." You hear the deep voice of Suguru from behind you and feel his large hands ghost over the curve of your waist.

"I-I know...but look at him, he's huge," you stammer, looking to where the fat head of Satoru's cock is peeking out from between your pussy lips.

"He's no bigger than me," Suguru replies smugly, his hands still trailing up your waist until he cups your breasts, and although you can't see his face, you can hear the grin in his voice. "Don't tell me you're too much of a baby to sit on a dick?"

"If you keep talking shit, I'm not gonna let you fuck me after him," you hiss, your hips still slowly moving back and forth on Satoru's length, the friction against your clit causing you to stifle a moan as you try to sound firm.

"You're the one who got drunk the other night and admitted you've always wanted to know what both of our dicks felt like." As he speaks, the pads of Suguru's thumbs tease your nipples until they stiffen under his touch.

God, that was embarrassing of you. But really, who could blame you when you had two of the most attractive men you'd ever seen as your closest friends? It's honestly a miracle it took so many years for you to let your attraction to them slip.

"Well, you guys are the ones who said you wanted to actually let me do it!"

"We did. So why don't you go ahead and actually put it in?" Satoru finally speaks, bucking his hips impatiently. He's trying to keep his cool, but a hint of desperation is creeping into his usually cocky voice.

"He's right, haven't you tortured poor Toru enough? Come on, lift your hips a little. I'll help you since you apparently need it..."

You do as Suguru says, lifting your hips up, and you watch as his hand curls around the base of Satoru's dick so casually you're a little thrown off by it. The lack of any and all hesitation has you silently wondering if he'd done it before, but you don't have much time to think about it before Suguru is lining up the head of Satoru's cock with your entrance, gently moving it back and forth against your slit to get it wet enough to go in with ease.

"Go on then, princess. Or do you need me to hold your hand, too?" Suguru's making fun of you, but he actually does interlace the fingers of his free hand with yours, and his lips brush against your own affectionately.

You groan into Suguru's mouth the moment you finally sink down onto Satoru's cock, and you can feel his lips turn up in a smirk at the sound you make. You take in a sharp breath at the stinging feeling the stretch causes once you feel him bottom out. For a moment, you're silently cursing yourself for ever admitting you wanted to try this, but then your walls begin to adjust to his size and the pain begins to melt away until all that's left is the feeling of being deliciously and utterly full in a way you've never felt before.

"Fuck," Satoru curses, "she's so fuckin' tight."

"Yeahhh?" Suguru drawls, his voice somehow sounding even lower than usual. "You look like you're trying not to blow your load already," he chuckles. Well, at least you're not the only one he's poking fun at.

"I'll last longer than you," Satoru insists, although his teeth are gritted slightly as though he's already struggling with his self-control.

"You wanna bet? We got all night after all, don't we, princess?" You feel Suguru's hot breath just below your ear before he playfully nips at the sensitive skin there, and you brace yourself for what is about to be a very long night.

2K notes · View notes

prdx-invdr · 2 months

Text

୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.

SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?

PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k

WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread

NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism

you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.

currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.

“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.

“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.

shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.

however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.

now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.

“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.

when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.

you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.

shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.

“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.

“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.

“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.

“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.

“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”

besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.

he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.

“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.

“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”

“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.

“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”

“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.

“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.

“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.

“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.

“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.

“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.

“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.

a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.

“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”

“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.

“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.

“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”

you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.

“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”

“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”

wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”

sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.

“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.

wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”

you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.

of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.

“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.

“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.

somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.

that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.

“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.

sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.

“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?

still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.

“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”

you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.

looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.

you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.

when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.

judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.

you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.

you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.

you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.

she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?

you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake

your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?

you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw

exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.

[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin

[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake

you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.

[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u

[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy

you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.

you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.

wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”

before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.

“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”

you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.

“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”

“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“

the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.

wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.

the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.

“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.

“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.

“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.

you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?” he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.

“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.

you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.

unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.

“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.

“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”

anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.

“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”

seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.

you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.

you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.

ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.

what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?

had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.

and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.

you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.

[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??

[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey

[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)

you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.

[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing

[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol

[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)

[10:51 AM] you: pass

[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!

you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.

when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.

“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.

“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.

“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”

you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.

anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”

your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“

“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”

“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.

“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”

you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.

“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.

you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”

friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.

“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”

“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.

“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.

“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.

“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”

you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.

“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.

“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”

“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.

“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”

the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”

he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”

“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.

he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”

“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”

“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”

you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.

“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”

“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.

“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.

wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.

“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.

shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”

wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”

you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.

you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.

and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.

“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.

“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”

you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.

“i like you so much.”

you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.

“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”

he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”

he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.

he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.

“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.

you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”

it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.

wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?” he asks, trying to meet your gaze.

you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.

“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.

when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”

he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.

“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”

when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”

“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”

anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.

before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.

you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.

when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.

as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.

“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.

wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”

eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.

“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”

you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.

“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.

as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.

“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”

AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr

#riize #riize x reader #riize au #park wonbin #wonbin imagines #wonbin x reader #riize wonbin #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize fluff #riize angst #park wonbin x reader

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